<?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-5153889254659000552</id><updated>2012-01-28T20:34:03.182-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Ramblings</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>236</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-2051220899710662292</id><published>2012-01-28T12:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-28T12:24:00.669-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chop chop</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-e1yEhEIpJ-s/Tx8Ffuz3r6I/AAAAAAAABmo/Evc6RyDQMec/s1600/kembers%2Bnew%2Bhaircut.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-e1yEhEIpJ-s/Tx8Ffuz3r6I/AAAAAAAABmo/Evc6RyDQMec/s320/kembers%2Bnew%2Bhaircut.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5701281695974010786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Kember has been wanting to chop her hair off for quite some time.  Which in my opinion was sad because she had beautiful long hair (which didn't always look beautiful because someone didn't always do it...).  Dan didn't like the idea because he likes long hair.  He was trying to talk her out of it, and when he asked, "Why do you want to cut your hair?" She answered, "So I can give it to kids who don't have any!"  And really...how can you argue with that?  So, I got off my rear and told her that after Christmas we could go get it cut.  Apparently there is a hair school in Heber (who knew?) and so we loaded everyone up and went over.  I think she looks adorable.  But when they first cut it off I said, "Wow, that's short!"  She really likes it though, and I think it makes her look a lot older.  And, I even mailed off the hair to Locks-of-Love....I'm pretty impressed with myself (even if it did take a couple weeks to do it). &lt;br /&gt;You look beautiful babe!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-2051220899710662292?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/2051220899710662292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=2051220899710662292&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/2051220899710662292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/2051220899710662292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/chop-chop.html' title='Chop chop'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-e1yEhEIpJ-s/Tx8Ffuz3r6I/AAAAAAAABmo/Evc6RyDQMec/s72-c/kembers%2Bnew%2Bhaircut.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-4991306676236654064</id><published>2012-01-27T12:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-27T12:05:00.255-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Snow Day!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tcqSnIz9ZSA/Tx8Cnco7HDI/AAAAAAAABl4/30DAvLDeJjM/s1600/DSCF5055.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tcqSnIz9ZSA/Tx8Cnco7HDI/AAAAAAAABl4/30DAvLDeJjM/s320/DSCF5055.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5701278530000329778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I'll be the first to admit that I'm not a lover of snow, and I have been thoroughly enjoying the non-snow winter months that we've been  having.  The kids however have been mourning winter without snow (which I find interesting because it's not like they really know what snow is like...we didn't get much in St. George and they were really little in Pullman, and we didn't play in it much there.  Snow - hater...remember)  So, when it snowed here they got really really excited.  I was so proud of Kember.  She went right out and built a snowman all by herself.  She's never made one before (no commentary on the fact that my 6 year old hasn't ever built one before...I know it's pathetic).  She did it all by herself, and I think she did a great job, even if I do say so myself.  Cole was out the door next and was jumping and playing and having a great time. Caden took a little longer to get out, but he had fun playing in the snow too.&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_aE1dTEB23E/Tx8CnDtwWHI/AAAAAAAABls/G8y3hHn5_JQ/s1600/DSCF5054.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_aE1dTEB23E/Tx8CnDtwWHI/AAAAAAAABls/G8y3hHn5_JQ/s320/DSCF5054.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5701278523309709426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Fbo3OpFL4lI/Tx8Cng6O2YI/AAAAAAAABmE/wi8IBkx0Y54/s1600/DSCF5056.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Fbo3OpFL4lI/Tx8Cng6O2YI/AAAAAAAABmE/wi8IBkx0Y54/s320/DSCF5056.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5701278531146668418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Mom and dad called me and went to the store for me so I didn't have to go out in inclement weather.  Nice huh?  Thanks guys!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dan got stuck in SL and Provo trying to get home from work...and wasn't the happiest I've ever seen him (can you blame him though?  he gets off work at 7, and didn't make it home till after 10...and he didn't bring a coat.  Trying to get his tire chains on and off made him soaking wet...poor guy).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And these pictures aren't from the snow above...it snowed earlier, but didn't stick around and the boys were just so excited they had to go out right then.  No waiting for snow gear...just wanted to get out there.&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tUKKRc2kSRc/Tx8Dwfvo_WI/AAAAAAAABmY/Y7AAY_nB7Qw/s1600/DSCF5044.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tUKKRc2kSRc/Tx8Dwfvo_WI/AAAAAAAABmY/Y7AAY_nB7Qw/s320/DSCF5044.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5701279784964259170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HFW2ZxmaeL4/Tx8DwHgkQCI/AAAAAAAABmQ/S79PfDVdvZA/s1600/DSCF5043.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HFW2ZxmaeL4/Tx8DwHgkQCI/AAAAAAAABmQ/S79PfDVdvZA/s320/DSCF5043.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5701279778458583074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-4991306676236654064?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4991306676236654064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=4991306676236654064&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/4991306676236654064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/4991306676236654064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/snow-day.html' title='Snow Day!'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tcqSnIz9ZSA/Tx8Cnco7HDI/AAAAAAAABl4/30DAvLDeJjM/s72-c/DSCF5055.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-8379406131747047589</id><published>2012-01-26T11:57:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-27T08:16:14.239-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hey Kember, you're missing something!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MpyCcV_phrY/Tx8ALgEi-lI/AAAAAAAABlU/qrFPG8gIcjY/s1600/DSCF5039.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MpyCcV_phrY/Tx8ALgEi-lI/AAAAAAAABlU/qrFPG8gIcjY/s320/DSCF5039.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5701275850861902418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Well, it finally happened.  Kember has lost a tooth (actually, at this time she's lost two...).  It surprised me quite a bit because she didn't get her teeth until she was really old (for a baby) so I was expecting her to lose he teeth a little later.  She was sooo excited about it though.  She had me make a little toothfairy bag where you keep your tooth and the tooth fairy leaves a surprise inside.  She lost another tooth a couple days later and the toothfairy almost forgot to come...Oops.  The first night the tooth fairy didn't leave it in a good place and when Kember woke up she was very concerned that she could find anything under her pillow.  The tooth fairy needs to work on her placement.  The bag fell off her bed and on the floor.  It was very worrying to this little girl.&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KSavy6KYNIA/Tx8ALfPeZ6I/AAAAAAAABlI/qxvSObYj5vU/s1600/DSCF5038.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KSavy6KYNIA/Tx8ALfPeZ6I/AAAAAAAABlI/qxvSObYj5vU/s320/DSCF5038.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5701275850639304610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lwmYBsZNHWI/Tx8AL81h8UI/AAAAAAAABlg/xwY-IOt_Ua8/s1600/DSCF5040.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lwmYBsZNHWI/Tx8AL81h8UI/AAAAAAAABlg/xwY-IOt_Ua8/s320/DSCF5040.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5701275858583548226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;She loves to stick her tongue out of the little hole in her mouth.  She's kind of cute!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-8379406131747047589?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8379406131747047589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=8379406131747047589&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/8379406131747047589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/8379406131747047589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/hey-kember-your-missing-something.html' title='Hey Kember, you&apos;re missing something!'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MpyCcV_phrY/Tx8ALgEi-lI/AAAAAAAABlU/qrFPG8gIcjY/s72-c/DSCF5039.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-2623541533911638142</id><published>2012-01-25T11:34:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-27T08:18:13.782-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Five years and counting</title><content type='html'>Well, it happened.  My sweet little boy had another birthday.  Really, another one?  Well, I suppose it is inevitable.  Since Caden's birthday was on Sunday we celebrated more the next day.  Although he did think I was pretty cool when I made him stuffed french toast for his breakfast that morning! (It was yummy too...and pretty.  Go figure) We drove to Aurora, and celebrated a little bit there.  Caden is still waiting to celebrate with the Linford's (we got sick and cancelled...which wasn't hard cause I only told my mom about it...hmmm....good thing we cancelled) and his friend party.  That will come in time. I'm just a little lazy now.  It's actually all planned, Caden planned it with me about a month ago, I just need to invite people.  Are we seeing a pattern here?  I'm definitely seeing something.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the party in Aurora wasn't much, but I did run to the dollar store and buy some balloons, Crepe paper, and a banner (and a special cupcake and cake...for some reason Caden really really really wanted a store bought cake.  I was going to be offended, but it definitely saved me time :).  I had the kids decorate and Caden kept saying, "This is the best party ever!"  Who needs games? Just blow up some balloons and have the kids tape stuff to different places! &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hRa4xGwvUyM/Tx77yX1xDSI/AAAAAAAABkk/jR7fDNDQ2rE/s1600/DSCF5045.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hRa4xGwvUyM/Tx77yX1xDSI/AAAAAAAABkk/jR7fDNDQ2rE/s320/DSCF5045.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5701271021109185826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;See the pretty wrap job?  (And the lovely chocolate cake face?) That would be grandma.  Me, I'm a Linford, and we don't wrap...we use the bags from Wal-Mart where we bought the present. (Okay other Linford's, no correcting me if this isn't true...just go with me on this.)&lt;br /&gt;Caden was really hard to shop for.  We kept asking him what he wanted and he said, "I don't care...something boyish."  Well, at least he didn't ask for something girly :)&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Sd_-Fbut458/Tx791D1xTII/AAAAAAAABkw/JS6f9mh2qa4/s1600/DSCF5052.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Sd_-Fbut458/Tx791D1xTII/AAAAAAAABkw/JS6f9mh2qa4/s320/DSCF5052.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5701273266303356034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And just because I think she's cute...&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RiLBJym-wzg/Tx791aaGQXI/AAAAAAAABk4/8deVQy1P6Bk/s1600/DSCF5048.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-RiLBJym-wzg/Tx791aaGQXI/AAAAAAAABk4/8deVQy1P6Bk/s320/DSCF5048.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5701273272361304434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Maybe after we have the friend party I will post more pictures, but...no guarantees.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-2623541533911638142?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/2623541533911638142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=2623541533911638142&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/2623541533911638142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/2623541533911638142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/five-years-and-counting.html' title='Five years and counting'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hRa4xGwvUyM/Tx77yX1xDSI/AAAAAAAABkk/jR7fDNDQ2rE/s72-c/DSCF5045.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-1346382432425255560</id><published>2012-01-24T11:24:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-24T11:29:29.351-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh, Milee</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NN2c6Fk5h2k/Tx74e_861PI/AAAAAAAABkY/M6HtfgLmNjY/s1600/DSCF4956.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NN2c6Fk5h2k/Tx74e_861PI/AAAAAAAABkY/M6HtfgLmNjY/s320/DSCF4956.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5701267389744338162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is what happens when you think your child is safely contained in a high chair, and it turns out you didn't buckle them tight enough.  I was in the other room and I heard weird sounds.  Milee had climbed out of her high chair, which was next to the counter, climbed on the counter and decided to finish breakfast in the sink.  What a stinker.  A cutie though...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-1346382432425255560?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1346382432425255560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=1346382432425255560&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/1346382432425255560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/1346382432425255560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/oh-milee.html' title='Oh, Milee'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NN2c6Fk5h2k/Tx74e_861PI/AAAAAAAABkY/M6HtfgLmNjY/s72-c/DSCF4956.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-8086631652501849424</id><published>2011-12-14T19:20:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2011-12-14T19:28:39.446-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Never again</title><content type='html'>I am not a baker.  I freely admit this.  In fact, I cringe whenever the kids want to make cookies.  I'll cook, and it will turn out decent, but for some reason my baking skills are quite lacking.  I wonder if I would have payed more attention in Chemistry if that would have helped.  Anyway, there is a science to baking, and I certainly don't understand it.  I'm sorry if you were ever on the receiving end of my chocolate chip cookies.  They were supposed to be a thank you...not a means to make you dead.  Anyway, I came across these yummy looking chocolate chip cookies on Pinterest (I'll admit to being addicted...I think Pinterest is the greatest thing since sliced bread). Caden wanted to make cookies today and so I thought I'd give them a try.  Well, I will tell you one thing...I am never going back to making regular chocolate chip cookies again.  Cake mix cookies are the way to go.  I've never had nice looking chocolate chip cookies.  They taste okay, but they look horrible.  These accomplished both goals.  In fact, I'm so proud of them that I'm blogging about it..because I'm cool like that :) &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HjEXNCe-upc/Tulaaxeo1DI/AAAAAAAABkM/80S2al-yK64/s1600/DSCF4954.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HjEXNCe-upc/Tulaaxeo1DI/AAAAAAAABkM/80S2al-yK64/s320/DSCF4954.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5686175420536902706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;You should definitely try them sometime.  If I hadn't just run out of cake mix I would totally make you some.  It was sooo easy...and let's face it...I love easy things!  Try &lt;a href="http://stephaniecooks.blogspot.com/2011/01/cake-batter-cookies.html"&gt;them&lt;/a&gt;...you may like them (If I were super cool, I would quote Dr. Seuss right here...you know the part I'm talking about...it's in Green Eggs and Ham...go read it...it's an excellent book). And don't mind my photograph...trust me..they look good!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-8086631652501849424?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8086631652501849424/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=8086631652501849424&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/8086631652501849424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/8086631652501849424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2011/12/never-again.html' title='Never again'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HjEXNCe-upc/Tulaaxeo1DI/AAAAAAAABkM/80S2al-yK64/s72-c/DSCF4954.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-6915684614837880314</id><published>2011-12-13T10:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-12-13T10:06:00.510-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A little Sunday Fun...back in October</title><content type='html'>Catching up with everything we did in Oct. and Nov. is hard...but they were just such fun memories!  Like this for instance.  I was flipping through the Family Fun magazine and came across an idea to make plastic cup rocket ships.  I thought it would be fun to do as a Sunday Family activity.  So, Dan drew all the rockets (and he got really creative...everything from regular ships to princess ships, ninja ships, dragons, Castles, etc.  It was cute) the kids cut them out and I put the elastics on the cups so they would blast off.  The kids played with these for awhile and laughed and laughed when their cup flew in the air and did something funny.  Isn't it great how the simple things are sometimes the most fun?  Granted, these didn't last long...they got taken down stairs and stepped on and stuff, but hey, it created a memory for me, and I loved it.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-anGfqxygy58/TuJBY2NiiSI/AAAAAAAABj0/Pod3GF8XfMA/s1600/DSCF4754.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-anGfqxygy58/TuJBY2NiiSI/AAAAAAAABj0/Pod3GF8XfMA/s320/DSCF4754.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5684177574819957026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RcJJ4wbZuKQ/TuJBXjiS8EI/AAAAAAAABjc/7BTqjFnp9FI/s1600/DSCF4743.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RcJJ4wbZuKQ/TuJBXjiS8EI/AAAAAAAABjc/7BTqjFnp9FI/s320/DSCF4743.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5684177552626872386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qiplUNHncQg/TuJBYBggifI/AAAAAAAABjo/eb4GK8eY770/s1600/DSCF4749.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qiplUNHncQg/TuJBYBggifI/AAAAAAAABjo/eb4GK8eY770/s320/DSCF4749.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5684177560672438770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6gHpufyKKWk/TuJBZYar__I/AAAAAAAABkA/QmWcaH2n8nE/s1600/DSCF4758.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-6gHpufyKKWk/TuJBZYar__I/AAAAAAAABkA/QmWcaH2n8nE/s320/DSCF4758.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5684177584001908722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-6915684614837880314?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6915684614837880314/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=6915684614837880314&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/6915684614837880314'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/6915684614837880314'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2011/12/little-sunday-funback-in-october.html' title='A little Sunday Fun...back in October'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-anGfqxygy58/TuJBY2NiiSI/AAAAAAAABj0/Pod3GF8XfMA/s72-c/DSCF4754.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-3411669582370886869</id><published>2011-12-11T09:55:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2011-12-11T09:55:00.620-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Theater Class</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-arxlocYj-_c/TuI-g473OjI/AAAAAAAABjQ/UeFH3p2xyUE/s1600/DSCF4725.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-arxlocYj-_c/TuI-g473OjI/AAAAAAAABjQ/UeFH3p2xyUE/s320/DSCF4725.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5684174414455192114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we first moved here I contacted my high school drama teacher and asked her if she needed any help with anything.  I was hoping to volunteer somehow.  Well, she e-mailed back and asked if I wanted to teach a community theater class.  Hahahaha.  That was my first reaction.  I'm not qualified to teach a theater class.  I haven't done theater in...well, forever.  But it was an intriguing idea.  So, I did it!  I stepped out of my comfort zone and told myself that I was qualified to teach and that I could do this.  I taught two classes.  A beginning class (one I was able to bring Kember too...that was fun) and a Character and Dialog class.  At first I really enjoyed the younger class and the older class really intimidated me but as time went on I had a lot of fun with the older guys.  I only had girls in both my classes, but I would occasionally help out another teacher with her class that only had boys in it.  The picture is from the last day of class and we performed our vignettes for each other and I got picture happy!  I may not have been qualified to teach the class, but I really enjoyed it.  It was fun to see the girls grow a little bit and try new things.  In the younger class it was fun to watch a really shy girl who didn't want to participate gain a little confidence and start to join in the activities.  She was a real sweet heart. &lt;br /&gt;It was a little stressful because Caden normally had soccer the same day, and most of the other things we did tended to all be on these days, but the great thing was that if Dan had to work it was completely okay for me to bring my kids along.  It was awesome, and I'm glad I was able to do it!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-3411669582370886869?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3411669582370886869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=3411669582370886869&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/3411669582370886869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/3411669582370886869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2011/12/theater-class.html' title='Theater Class'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-arxlocYj-_c/TuI-g473OjI/AAAAAAAABjQ/UeFH3p2xyUE/s72-c/DSCF4725.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-7975958683088185673</id><published>2011-12-09T09:32:00.004-07:00</published><updated>2011-12-09T09:48:36.734-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Little Coley's Birthday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dytpxh7j-4k/TuI6qGciQOI/AAAAAAAABig/75lIa7QdZdE/s1600/DSCF4551.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dytpxh7j-4k/TuI6qGciQOI/AAAAAAAABig/75lIa7QdZdE/s320/DSCF4551.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5684170174654202082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Okay, so I realize that Cole's birthday was you know...almost two months ago...but it needs documentation, right?  Right.  So, here is documentation of my little boy turning 3.  Which, by the way, I have a really hard time remembering.  I keep thinking he turned 4 and I have to think about how old Kember and Caden are to remember.  Mother of the Year award, I know. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JW-1ZOmBhzc/TuI5W-cxdVI/AAAAAAAABiU/Qv9aMmVNckk/s1600/DSCF4546.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JW-1ZOmBhzc/TuI5W-cxdVI/AAAAAAAABiU/Qv9aMmVNckk/s320/DSCF4546.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5684168746578572626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Cole was super easy to shop for.  When I asked him what he wanted he said Knight stuff and shoes.  Awesome!  Since his birthday is around Halloween the dollar store had the Knight stuff and he needed shoes anyway!  I found this out by grandma and grandpa...They bought him new cowboy boots and when we went to the store to try them on we realized that he was in a size four and needed, oh, a size 7.  His poor little feet.  Never once has he complained about his shoes being too small.  I could put them on okay, so I never really thought about it.  Well, hopefully now his feet feel better! &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nUga6IRQzGY/TuI6sPbpZsI/AAAAAAAABjE/uEaLxUkzg8M/s1600/DSCF4559.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nUga6IRQzGY/TuI6sPbpZsI/AAAAAAAABjE/uEaLxUkzg8M/s320/DSCF4559.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5684170211426133698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Caden was really excited to buy Cole a present with his own money.  He went and bought him a Lego set.  I love having generous kids.  It makes my heart happy.  And it's something I need to learn.  Funny how they are teaching it to me, and not the other way around.  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AoV6-Vnri4k/TuI5Wit3SqI/AAAAAAAABiI/tULbXqMnnNY/s1600/DSCF4535.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AoV6-Vnri4k/TuI5Wit3SqI/AAAAAAAABiI/tULbXqMnnNY/s320/DSCF4535.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5684168739134065314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;With the Johnson cousins going out for ice cream for Cole's birthday.  Had to take a picture with the Tow-Mater truck.  It's kind of cute...just like the kids in front of it!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jshri5wG4Qc/TuI6qp5uJ7I/AAAAAAAABis/BsRyKLAApug/s1600/DSCF4527.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jshri5wG4Qc/TuI6qp5uJ7I/AAAAAAAABis/BsRyKLAApug/s320/DSCF4527.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5684170184171857842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Just a little daddy love!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oF937MwATfw/TuI6rEDycQI/AAAAAAAABi4/cHCm9gq-hqs/s1600/DSCF4566.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oF937MwATfw/TuI6rEDycQI/AAAAAAAABi4/cHCm9gq-hqs/s320/DSCF4566.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5684170191193403650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We had family come over to open presents and eat monster cupcakes.  I didn't go all out with anything, but it was still fun.  We love living close to family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, happy belated birthday buddy!  Thank you for your smiles and your songs. We love you!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-7975958683088185673?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7975958683088185673/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=7975958683088185673&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/7975958683088185673'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/7975958683088185673'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2011/12/little-coleys-birthday.html' title='Little Coley&apos;s Birthday'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dytpxh7j-4k/TuI6qGciQOI/AAAAAAAABig/75lIa7QdZdE/s72-c/DSCF4551.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-4903309188660631999</id><published>2011-11-15T11:28:00.007-07:00</published><updated>2011-11-15T12:12:13.810-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh my little Milee</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Uq-nOx3mGVs/TsKwZ_e31kI/AAAAAAAABhM/uFylLoYh7Bk/s1600/%2528231%2Bof%2B318%2529.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Uq-nOx3mGVs/TsKwZ_e31kI/AAAAAAAABhM/uFylLoYh7Bk/s320/%2528231%2Bof%2B318%2529.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675292441024386626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;How dare you turn one year old!  You are growing up sooo fast.  Even though we aren't doing anything fun or fancy for your birthday I just wanted to let you know how much your dad and I love you.  We love watching you grow and develop. Quite frequently you will hear us yelling to the other "Come see this!"  Your brothers and sisters especially love to come get me when you are doing something they think is pretty neat...and it happens everyday.&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-b1894ff54dcf36f3" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v23.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Db1894ff54dcf36f3%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329986204%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D71DB3F181ECD99AAF96F9DECC5204E8E2A93293F.2D5315CAD03C22896CE2E9076A2AC217E01E538F%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Db1894ff54dcf36f3%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DDj81xIur-yvaLjxjfzfVIMBaW_g&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v23.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Db1894ff54dcf36f3%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329986204%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D71DB3F181ECD99AAF96F9DECC5204E8E2A93293F.2D5315CAD03C22896CE2E9076A2AC217E01E538F%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Db1894ff54dcf36f3%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DDj81xIur-yvaLjxjfzfVIMBaW_g&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have the cutest walk ever (and just for posterity purposes, you started walking a month or so ago), and you can tell that you are proud of yourself for doing it.  My favorite thing is your laugh.  It's distinctly unique and truly yours, and the best part of it is that you share it so freely with others.  Anytime someone laughs you join in no matter the reason.  Same thing with clapping.  You really love to clap. You are a great eater (minus the fact that you throw everything on the floor when you are done...but that's to be expected I suppose).&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vT-Eaxq9mTQ/TsK4Tf4aeSI/AAAAAAAABh8/j245v_NC01g/s1600/DSCF4420.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vT-Eaxq9mTQ/TsK4Tf4aeSI/AAAAAAAABh8/j245v_NC01g/s320/DSCF4420.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675301125555386658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  You are one of the most stubborn people I know (wonder where you got that from).  You will not learn to do something until you want to do something, and then when you want to...it's almost immediate.  You aren't speaking yet, but you are able to get your point across quite clearly.  When you are thirsty you will bring me your sippy cup, throw it on my lap, point, and say, "Da".  We are still working on the sign language, but I'm assuming it will be like everything else and you will get it when and if you want to.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-c4C8WPI2gP0/TsK4ShnqpzI/AAAAAAAABhk/d20mo62cmmE/s1600/DSCF4453.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-c4C8WPI2gP0/TsK4ShnqpzI/AAAAAAAABhk/d20mo62cmmE/s320/DSCF4453.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675301108842145586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  You have two bottom teeth right now, but a whole mouthful waiting to come in.  I think I counted 4 on top that were close, and maybe one more on the bottom.  You love to be held and you love to be entertained.  My favorite is when you play with your siblings.  You will copy Cole the best you can, and you will even play with their light sabers with them.  That's super cute to see because the foam light saber is bigger than you, but you hold on to it and swing it around just like your brothers.  For all you love playing with your siblings, you are pretty independent too.  If no one is paying attention to you, you will find your own thing to do.  You love animals and get very excited when you see one.  You start pointing, bouncing, and loudly proclaiming "Da, Da, da!" &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4mewd6sgZQk/TsK2xhWGkbI/AAAAAAAABhY/WK9Uyqe6Pa8/s1600/DSCF4570.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4mewd6sgZQk/TsK2xhWGkbI/AAAAAAAABhY/WK9Uyqe6Pa8/s320/DSCF4570.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675299442321166770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Don't worry, you will get hair sometime in the near future.  I promise.  I went through it and Kember when through it.  It will come.  But you probably already know that because you already love to comb your bald little head.  You do a pretty good job combing too!  I love your cheesy grin, and can't wait to watch you grow into a beautiful young woman.  Thank you for being apart of our family.  We all love you.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pKIcWcT6gSI/TsK4TKOEgPI/AAAAAAAABhw/LB30tugFq7k/s1600/DSCF4454.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pKIcWcT6gSI/TsK4TKOEgPI/AAAAAAAABhw/LB30tugFq7k/s320/DSCF4454.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5675301119740641522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-4903309188660631999?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4903309188660631999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=4903309188660631999&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/4903309188660631999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/4903309188660631999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2011/11/oh-my-little-milee.html' title='Oh my little Milee'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Uq-nOx3mGVs/TsKwZ_e31kI/AAAAAAAABhM/uFylLoYh7Bk/s72-c/%2528231%2Bof%2B318%2529.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-463627271734678239</id><published>2011-10-09T14:36:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-10-09T14:45:48.225-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday Thoughts</title><content type='html'>Today in Relief Society we had a lesson on the signs of the times...or the second coming.  I will admit to not really enjoying this topic, or lesson (the teacher did a great job...I just don't like the topic).  I've decided I don't like it because whenever people talk about it, it all becomes speculation.  Whole bunches of it.  Don't get me wrong...I normally like speculation, except in a church setting.  Church lessons should be doctrine...lessons should be prepared with church approved material...not speculations.  It makes me uncomfortable.  But there you have it.  What I did get out of this lesson was interesting for me though.  One girl made a comment (it really did fit to what we were talking about, it just doesn't seem like it on my blog) about how people don't really let their kids play outside anymore with the neighbors...and it's true...I don't.  I need to get to know my neighbors.  This has been something I've been thinking about since we moved in.  So hopefully sometime this week I will make cookies and take them to the neighbors.  Also, I was thinking a lot about since we don't know when the second coming will be we need to use our time wisely, right?  Well, last night I got to thinking about putting first things first.  I tend to do the not important things first, and then run out of time for the important things...so...I need to re prioritize things (and I'll deny I ever wrote this, but I should probably get up earlier in the morning too...which means going to bed earlier....sigh/groan).  So those were the things I got out of church today, and just my own musings about my life.  Isn't that the great thing about the gospel?  Personal revelation...got to love it....now to follow through with it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-463627271734678239?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/463627271734678239/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=463627271734678239&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/463627271734678239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/463627271734678239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2011/10/sunday-thoughts.html' title='Sunday Thoughts'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-6480033848943343267</id><published>2011-10-05T08:40:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-10-05T08:44:58.590-06:00</updated><title type='text'>School Pictures</title><content type='html'>Kember got back her school pictures yesterday and I think they turned out pretty cute!  She isn't smiling like we practiced, but it is far and a way better than her last years pictures.  Those were bad...which is saying something because I think she's a beautiful girl.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CU3L3M3TsoA/ToxsmXZlM3I/AAAAAAAABg0/2SxUSirlFRg/s1600/ch1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 256px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CU3L3M3TsoA/ToxsmXZlM3I/AAAAAAAABg0/2SxUSirlFRg/s320/ch1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660018238070010738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  I don't understand why it costs so much for the pictures though...and why they have only a few package options.  I really liked at her last school how I could just buy the CD for a few dollars.  That way if I hated the pictures I wouldn't be out too much.  Or if I loved them I could spend as much as I wanted reprinting them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But here is my beautiful girl who is growing up way too fast.  Love you Kember!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-6480033848943343267?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6480033848943343267/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=6480033848943343267&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/6480033848943343267'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/6480033848943343267'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2011/10/school-pictures.html' title='School Pictures'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CU3L3M3TsoA/ToxsmXZlM3I/AAAAAAAABg0/2SxUSirlFRg/s72-c/ch1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-8679864961329437782</id><published>2011-10-02T20:29:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-10-02T21:02:30.904-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday Happenings</title><content type='html'>Does anyone else just love this time of year?  I don't mean Fall (truthfully it's not my favorite season..don't get me wrong, it's great, just not my favorite).  I mean General Conference.  Every April and October I just can't wait for.  Good times, good messages.  I've decided that my kids do better at listening and being quiet when I don't have a lot of things for them to do.  Today I just sat out crayons and some scripture puzzles and they were really good....until Dan started wrestling with them :) Even though I couldn't hear I didn't want to stop it cause it's soooo cute watching them play together and laugh together as a family.  I LOVE IT!  So many good things we heard.  Aren't we so lucky to hear from a prophet and apostles every 6 months?  I made a goal to read all the conference talks before this last session.  Which may not seem like much of a goal, but considering I started like a week before conference started...well, let's just say I was up reading late Friday night.  And I was kicking myself.  Do any of you remember Elder Robbins talk, "What Manner of Men and Women Ought Ye to Be?"  Holy cow it was good!  The whole time I was reading it I was thinking, "Why didn't I read this earlier?   I could have been working on this stuff for 6 months!"  Anyway, it was good.  You should read it if you can't remember it.  From this conference...where to start...where to start.  I really enjoyed Elder Cook's talk where he was telling a story about when Pres. Monson was talking to him in an elevator and Pres. Monson said, "It's better to look up." Which I think is rather profound, and something that I should do more of.  I mean, not literally looking up, but looking to God.  We are happier when we are looking up.  I like it.  I liked Elder Oakes talk when he said something like, "What do you really believe about Jesus Christ, and what are you doing with that belief?"  Anyway, the point is, I can't wait to read and listen to these talks again.  There was so much good stuff that was said!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After conference today we had a birthday party for Cameron.  HAPPY BIRTHDAY CAMERON! Actually his birthday was yesterday, but we celebrated today.  I had a lot of fun thinking about things to make, and even though Cameron isn't a big dessert fan I put together a dessert bar (cause I like dessert :) I meant to have balloons and a banner and stuff too, but I think it still turned out pretty cute.  It sure got the kids excited for Cameron's party :)  We had Collin and Andrea's families over and we ate a lasagne dinner (tradition for Cameron's birthday you know...although the lasagne didn't turn out like grandma's...sigh...maybe someday).  It was good to just sit and talk with family.  I will admit to loving being closer to a lot of my siblings (we missed you Rorie and Nate and Mom and Dad!)&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tKwut5ht-ec/TokeY5GuudI/AAAAAAAABgc/5LIX-5EpsnY/s1600/DSCF4519.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tKwut5ht-ec/TokeY5GuudI/AAAAAAAABgc/5LIX-5EpsnY/s320/DSCF4519.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5659087819762481618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I have to laugh at the next two pictures...not because people are making funny faces, but because one was taken at the beginning of the party, and the other was taken almost before everyone left...and look at Cameron.  Hahahaha...different seat, same activity :)&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jQMZUL8n6tU/TokeZG3s4aI/AAAAAAAABgk/VpC6njrq_Yk/s1600/DSCF4520.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jQMZUL8n6tU/TokeZG3s4aI/AAAAAAAABgk/VpC6njrq_Yk/s320/DSCF4520.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5659087823457542562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bxY79D9oepU/TokeZblzn4I/AAAAAAAABgs/N-rqDCnf3Sk/s1600/DSCF4521.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bxY79D9oepU/TokeZblzn4I/AAAAAAAABgs/N-rqDCnf3Sk/s320/DSCF4521.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5659087829019631490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Well Cameron, I hope you had a great birthday!  We love you, and wish you years of happiness and success.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-8679864961329437782?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8679864961329437782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=8679864961329437782&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/8679864961329437782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/8679864961329437782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2011/10/sunday-happenings.html' title='Sunday Happenings'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tKwut5ht-ec/TokeY5GuudI/AAAAAAAABgc/5LIX-5EpsnY/s72-c/DSCF4519.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-8300761793064571847</id><published>2011-09-29T20:34:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-09-29T20:50:30.938-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I feel like I had another domestic day today...and the GREAT news?! I didn't lose any of the kids!  Course Dan was home today, so that probably helped a little :)  After we went to Park City to get some wood for Dan and his projects I started on the jam.  I bought a flat of strawberries a couple days ago, and today was the day.  Course, yesterday should have been the day...a lot of the strawberries were bad but what can you do?  Now, I'm just going to clarify...making jam is easy, but it sure is time consuming.  And more than half way through I remembered that I didn't have everything ready to go and I was not at a point where I could stop and get things ready.  So, Cole became the messenger and I pulled Dan from his projects so he could help me!  Isn't he the greatest.   Batch two went a lot better.  I made sure I was prepared with everything this time.  So, all in all I got 11 bottles of strawberry jam.  Someday I will get brave and mix flavors, but for now I'm a one flavor type gal.  Want to see one of the projects Dan whipped up?&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9goqudAaFRI/ToUrz9DvIAI/AAAAAAAABgU/6h0MjhEGkDQ/s1600/DSCF4517.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9goqudAaFRI/ToUrz9DvIAI/AAAAAAAABgU/6h0MjhEGkDQ/s320/DSCF4517.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657976678424453122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yep, it's a dog house.  No, we aren't getting a dog.  This wouldn't even fit the kids stuffed animals.  Caden just told Dan that he wanted him to make him a dog house.  Then Caden got me and I painted it.  He tried, but his little fingers aren't strong enough for spray paint.  It's not exactly the color scheme I would have chosen, but blue and black were his choices.  Anyway, I thought it was cute of Dan to make one. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While he was working on other things and one batch of jam was done, I took Caden on a mommy date and we went to the store so I could finish another project of mine.  Finally, I present to you, homemade magnetic robots! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bUVg3NYoB5I/ToUrziHO5lI/AAAAAAAABgM/Cb18BQ73reU/s1600/DSCF4515.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bUVg3NYoB5I/ToUrziHO5lI/AAAAAAAABgM/Cb18BQ73reU/s320/DSCF4515.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5657976671191361106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Hopefully this will keep the kids entertained for awhile.  My boys really like Robots, and this way they can make them however they want.  I had fun putting these together :)  Doesn't my creativity astound you?  Go ahead, be astounded...and then know that I copied the idea from someone else...like I do with all good ideas.   So now the kids have these robots, some story stones (huge fan of those, p.s. by the way...you should hear their stories...super cute), and someday I will finish the Alphabet lacing cards.  I'm trying to actually finish projects now, and I'm doing better, but it still takes me a month or so.  Good thing you can't wait with food, huh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a random note, my sister Rorie was able to bring her babies home today from the hospital!  She sounds good, and it sounds like the babies are doing great.  They are identical twins and she mentioned that they have a hard time telling them apart, but considering she had them a few days ago, and today is the first time she's really seen them I think that's okay.  The question is, will I ever be able to tell Caleb and Micah apart.  This remains to be seen.  So, congrats Rorie and Nate.  Our little family is super happy for you guys!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-8300761793064571847?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8300761793064571847/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=8300761793064571847&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/8300761793064571847'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/8300761793064571847'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2011/09/i-feel-like-i-had-another-domestic-day.html' title=''/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9goqudAaFRI/ToUrz9DvIAI/AAAAAAAABgU/6h0MjhEGkDQ/s72-c/DSCF4517.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-99436344839326347</id><published>2011-09-17T20:00:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-09-17T20:00:01.031-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Whiskey Springs (FHE)</title><content type='html'>Last Monday for family home evening the Linford's invited us to go with them to Whiskey Springs to roast marshmallows for FHE.  When I told Dan he got really excited and started planning a dutch oven dinner to go along with it.  He dragged out the dutch oven, chopped everything up, packed everything in (and I'm including the kids in this sentence even though I was originally referring to the food) and loaded it all.  They waited for me to finish teaching my class and when I got home, we went up early to get things cooking!  It's  a pretty little place.  Kember wanted to go exploring and hiking on the trails right away. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iSyX5KwQpuo/TnLB6UoHZsI/AAAAAAAABec/aq7uELQoPTU/s1600/DSCF4372.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iSyX5KwQpuo/TnLB6UoHZsI/AAAAAAAABec/aq7uELQoPTU/s320/DSCF4372.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652793690016933570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The kids also had fun taking pictures.  Kember has a good time with this, and only cut off a little bit of my head.  But hey, it proves me and Milee were there!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IZaNn9NHqwI/TnLDOyhPXQI/AAAAAAAABe0/Gqp0vE0qUek/s1600/DSCF4383.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-IZaNn9NHqwI/TnLDOyhPXQI/AAAAAAAABe0/Gqp0vE0qUek/s320/DSCF4383.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652795141150170370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I set Milee down on the ground so I could do something and Dan asked what she had in her mouth.  I told him it was probably a leaf and not a big deal.  These things are big deals to Dan so he went over and fished out the "leaf".  Turns out it wasn't a leaf but a cigarette butt.  Ew...gross.  Glad he fished that out.  When the Collin, Michelle, and clan arrived, we ate, hiked a little, and made s'mores. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-R7AkpbpJL3k/TnLDQB5_sSI/AAAAAAAABfE/NTC7vOiIVGw/s1600/DSCF4413.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-R7AkpbpJL3k/TnLDQB5_sSI/AAAAAAAABfE/NTC7vOiIVGw/s320/DSCF4413.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652795162460401954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kgoP5okHWCc/TnLDPnZGuoI/AAAAAAAABe8/rf9iXAFKQZc/s1600/DSCF4406.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kgoP5okHWCc/TnLDPnZGuoI/AAAAAAAABe8/rf9iXAFKQZc/s320/DSCF4406.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652795155343129218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0JfLFNewlUw/TnLB7L9aUYI/AAAAAAAABes/Z4jsPK5tgaY/s1600/DSCF4377.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-0JfLFNewlUw/TnLB7L9aUYI/AAAAAAAABes/Z4jsPK5tgaY/s320/DSCF4377.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652793704870203778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Dan is teaching the kids how to make a fire.  I think Caden is convinced that all you have to do is still the fire pit with a stick.  One time when we were at the ranch we had a fire going, but it started to rain and either put the fire out, or let it go out.  Anyway, the kids were outside playing and Jacob and the rest of the boys come running in.  They were so excited that they started a fire!  All they had to do was stir the ashed with a stick.  Guess we didn't put the fire out very well.  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DyVNliKYJn4/TnLB6w24DUI/AAAAAAAABek/0KR7OsAl0TI/s1600/DSCF4378.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DyVNliKYJn4/TnLB6w24DUI/AAAAAAAABek/0KR7OsAl0TI/s320/DSCF4378.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652793697595034946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My favorite part of the evening was playing Missionary Tag after we finished eating.  Everyone played, and it was really fun.  I love watching my kids play games like that.  We don't do that enough in our family, so it was great to be with Collin and Michelle, because they do.  Also, their kids are really good to mine.  The would slow down and let my kids think they were super fast and could beat them.  They are just a really supportive family.  Glad we live close by.  It was a great FHE!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-99436344839326347?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/99436344839326347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=99436344839326347&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/99436344839326347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/99436344839326347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2011/09/whiskey-springs-fhe.html' title='Whiskey Springs (FHE)'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-iSyX5KwQpuo/TnLB6UoHZsI/AAAAAAAABec/aq7uELQoPTU/s72-c/DSCF4372.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-5625549390191531306</id><published>2011-09-14T22:32:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-09-14T22:32:00.474-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I am officially a soccer mom</title><content type='html'>I've had the van for a while now, but I finally have a child playing soccer.  Caden had his first game tonight and I was so proud of him.  He has been talking non-stop about playing soccer for the last week.   We finally found him shin-guards yesterday.  He tried them on at home and wouldn't take them off until his legs got hot and itchy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9mZSjxQ6R50/TnAzXE5uF7I/AAAAAAAABeM/zS-_gBLLzw0/s1600/DSCF4421.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9mZSjxQ6R50/TnAzXE5uF7I/AAAAAAAABeM/zS-_gBLLzw0/s320/DSCF4421.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652074003895818162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4S5CB3LmVaY/TnAyVCoTEYI/AAAAAAAABd8/XFknq4Aup4w/s1600/DSCF4426.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-4S5CB3LmVaY/TnAyVCoTEYI/AAAAAAAABd8/XFknq4Aup4w/s320/DSCF4426.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652072869414506882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zYVM8PTmqF0/TnAyUkE3NyI/AAAAAAAABd0/7DsIgotqs6o/s1600/DSCF4429.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zYVM8PTmqF0/TnAyUkE3NyI/AAAAAAAABd0/7DsIgotqs6o/s320/DSCF4429.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652072861212817186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was really worried about signing him up because of our last experience with him and swimming, but he got right in there and went after the ball.  He falls down a lot.  Even more than a lot, but he looks good while he does it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-38liFZOo-pA/TnAyVo-QdYI/AAAAAAAABeE/huWFpYOEVM8/s1600/DSCF4422.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-38liFZOo-pA/TnAyVo-QdYI/AAAAAAAABeE/huWFpYOEVM8/s320/DSCF4422.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652072879707157890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was just because I thought it was funny!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ng02P3VnCEg/TnAzXTKaWEI/AAAAAAAABeU/PJDjYf0XJd0/s1600/DSCF4420.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ng02P3VnCEg/TnAzXTKaWEI/AAAAAAAABeU/PJDjYf0XJd0/s320/DSCF4420.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652074007723923522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  There was a little bit of crying (once when he fell down he got stepped on) and major concern that he wasn't winning.  It's hard to convince him that they aren't keeping score, and he is just supposed to play for fun and practice.  All my competitive little boy knows is that the other team made more goals than his team, and he wanted to win, but he did enjoy his snack!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-b1e9ec101e82a53a" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v3.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Db1e9ec101e82a53a%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329986204%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3DE2FF99562B6DF163D13012ED87F2AEF036D2122.6A144EDFCD12BE86B16147A152D84B002E6B76AF%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Db1e9ec101e82a53a%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3Dtnl82BsC_LSEnKjZZxww-V5_4Hw&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v3.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Db1e9ec101e82a53a%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329986204%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3DE2FF99562B6DF163D13012ED87F2AEF036D2122.6A144EDFCD12BE86B16147A152D84B002E6B76AF%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Db1e9ec101e82a53a%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3Dtnl82BsC_LSEnKjZZxww-V5_4Hw&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom and dad even came to watch his game!  Thanks for the support guys! So, here is my question....Do I buy the jersey?  I mean, technically, as long as he has a black or yellow shirt he is okay to play.  I'm all for that.  It saves me money and I don't think he's at an age to really care that he is the ONLY one without a jersey.  But other people think that we should buy one.  What should I do?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-5625549390191531306?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5625549390191531306/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=5625549390191531306&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/5625549390191531306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/5625549390191531306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2011/09/i-am-officially-soccer-mom.html' title='I am officially a soccer mom'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9mZSjxQ6R50/TnAzXE5uF7I/AAAAAAAABeM/zS-_gBLLzw0/s72-c/DSCF4421.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-8996943298645655736</id><published>2011-09-13T22:19:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2011-09-13T22:31:20.524-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Work 'em while they are young</title><content type='html'>Dan has been after me to come up with a chore chart for a while now.  I've been meaning to make one, but like all my ideas this didn't ever come to fruition.  The only reason Dan wanted me to make one was because he felt the kids needed a way to earn some money.  The only problem is that I don't want to pay them.  But he finally won me over by telling me that it would be a good learning experience for them to go through the whole process...you know, earn the money, save it, and buy something that they wanted.  Plus, we could teach them tithing this way.  Hard to teach tithing when they never earn anything.  That was probably the best argument for me :)  So I sat down and finally decided what chores they have to do just because they are a member of the family.  Things like make their bed, clean their room, take care of their dishes, etc.  Then after their "have to's" are done any extras they do they can earn a little something.  Well, Caden is super good at this.  He is my helper and he knows exactly what he is saving for...Lego's, what else?  He's such a sweetheart that he would help me with stuff even before he was getting paid for it.  However, the majority of stuff was done while Kember was a school so I decided to hit the chore list hard on Saturday when Kember was home.  Surprisingly enough the kids were really willing and wanting to go through the list.  Some of the chores were hard for them and they wanted to stop in the middle, but after explaining that they don't get paid for half finished jobs, they finished....then asked to do the next one.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5DKDw1GHqaM/TnAseZTPcgI/AAAAAAAABds/BjV-fHUY9fs/s1600/DSCF4357.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5DKDw1GHqaM/TnAseZTPcgI/AAAAAAAABds/BjV-fHUY9fs/s320/DSCF4357.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652066433049260546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WhOvyjfiw28/TnAseIpMduI/AAAAAAAABdk/X-ros4F8y0I/s1600/DSCF4369.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WhOvyjfiw28/TnAseIpMduI/AAAAAAAABdk/X-ros4F8y0I/s320/DSCF4369.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5652066428577937122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Poor Caden gets gypped in the picture area apparently.  I had a picture of him, but I can't find it anywhere.  He's a great helper though.  Kember earned the most and Cole just spluttered (is that a word?) along at his own snail pace...but he did it, and I discovered that he is really good, or rather, really likes to wipe the mirrors and windows.  They were really proud of themselves, and couldn't wait to tell Daddy how much they had earned.  Too bad it isn't Saturday tomorrow...my house could use some sprucing :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-8996943298645655736?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8996943298645655736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=8996943298645655736&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/8996943298645655736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/8996943298645655736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2011/09/work-em-while-they-are-young.html' title='Work &apos;em while they are young'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5DKDw1GHqaM/TnAseZTPcgI/AAAAAAAABds/BjV-fHUY9fs/s72-c/DSCF4357.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-4164860976342055231</id><published>2011-09-11T22:03:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2011-09-11T22:34:30.445-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday Thoughts</title><content type='html'>*Warning: Just a bunch of rambling&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_zUPSjYct3E/Tm2KhUwdeVI/AAAAAAAABdc/_BSl0QZ2Yw4/s1600/pink%2Bflower%2B1600x1200.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_zUPSjYct3E/Tm2KhUwdeVI/AAAAAAAABdc/_BSl0QZ2Yw4/s320/pink%2Bflower%2B1600x1200.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5651325412532123986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I can't say that I got much out of church today.  Unfortunately I spent a lot of time walking the halls with a very happy baby.  Why would I be walking the halls with a happy baby?  Don't you normally leave class with angry/sad/upset babies?  Yes, normally you do.  However...my very tired happy baby was extremely loud.  She was making very cute happy sounds, but they were very loud.  I will also admit to not really paying much attention to the talks during Sacrament meeting.  However, I did learn that a lot of people were more in tune with the Spirit than I was because multiple people brought up and commented about one of the sisters talks.  Guess that just goes to show that we need to be prepared...it's not just the speakers responsibility.  Look at what I missed out on because I chose not to be prepared.&lt;br /&gt;Dan and I tried out a new Sunday School class today.  Dan (and me too) was hesitant to try it because our Gospel Doctrine class has been really really good.  But in sacrament the Bishop mentioned this new (to us) class and how it was going to teach ways to help our children combat things like pornography.  Since I feel like I can use all the help with this that I possibly can I asked Dan if we could switch classes.  This is one subject that completely terrifies me.  I'm mostly worried about my boys.  Let's face it, porn is everywhere.  How can I teach them the right things to do when confronted with it?  I have no idea what they will have to go through because I grew up oblivious to these kinds of things.  I'm also worried about Kember.  Now that she is in school I worry about her friends, and the influence they will have on her.  I grew up with great friends...and for me, that made all the difference.  She went to a friends house the other day, and while I'm thrilled that she has a friend (and that the friend lives fairly close by) I'm just worried about outside influences.  I met the mother and she was really friendly, but since I don't know the family I worry.  All of a sudden being a mother is terrifying.  My children are growing up and I'm worried that I have missed some vital teaching moment that would help them strengthen their testimony of the gospel.&lt;br /&gt;I was reading the conference talk "Become as a Little Child" and she says, "Elder M. Russell Ballard has taught us the importance of the Savior's admonition to 'behold your little one' when he said; 'Notice that He didn't say 'glance at them' or 'casually observe them' or 'occasionally take a look in their general direction.' He said to &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;behold&lt;/span&gt; them. "  Isn't that a great quotation?  That's what I've been working on this week.  To really behold my children.  There is loads that I need to do to improve, but at least it is comforting to know that these are God's children, and He will help me raise them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-4164860976342055231?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4164860976342055231/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=4164860976342055231&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/4164860976342055231'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/4164860976342055231'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2011/09/sunday-thoughts.html' title='Sunday Thoughts'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_zUPSjYct3E/Tm2KhUwdeVI/AAAAAAAABdc/_BSl0QZ2Yw4/s72-c/pink%2Bflower%2B1600x1200.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-2612417277164909930</id><published>2011-09-08T22:15:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2011-09-08T22:27:46.598-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Labor Day</title><content type='html'>This is the only picture I took on Labor Day, but I sure think it's a cute one!  Cameron is really great with kids.  Milee is fascinated by him.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zaGMsMb64xA/TmmT72E1kMI/AAAAAAAABdU/3dJMUNAKUrY/s1600/DSCF4368.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zaGMsMb64xA/TmmT72E1kMI/AAAAAAAABdU/3dJMUNAKUrY/s320/DSCF4368.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5650209863850365122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dan had to work (surprise, surprise) but he took Caden with him.  He had the next two days off and decided that would be a good time to go back to St. George and get all the things we left behind.  So, he took Caden with him.  It was his idea too!  It amazes me how much my children need each other.  I love it.  Kember and Cole kept asking when Caden would be back, and every time I would talk to Caden on the phone he would ask to talk to the kids.  When he did get home it was dinner time and he turned to me very seriously and said, "Mom...after dinner can I play with Kember and Cole because I haven't played with anyone all day."  Dan was a little offended...what is he, chopped liver? but I had to laugh.  I love that my children love each other.  Some day, probably sooner than I'd like, I'm sure they are going to start fighting like cats and dogs...but right now I love it.  Now that Kember is in school the boys are playing more and more with each other, and it's really cute.&lt;br /&gt;Oh, back to Labor Day.  I invited myself to a BB-Q at Andrea's that my parents and Cameron were going to.  It was a really nice relaxing day.  We just hung out at Andrea's while the guys went golfing.  The kids entertained themselves, and we just visited.  We ate a great meal (Yes, Matt and Cameron, it was great despite the fact I forgot the hamburger and we &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;only&lt;/span&gt; had hot dogs...heaven forbid).  I love living close to family so we can do things like this.  I miss St. George..(especially now that the weather is getting cooler.  I may have to dig out the kids jackets from somewhere in the next couple days.)  However I'm getting more and more involved with different things so that's been helpful.  The boys will start a preschool with some moms in the ward, we have play-group, I talked today to a girl about starting a book club, I'm going to volunteer every Tuesday in Kember's class, we have story time at the library, and I'm going to teach two community theater classes for a few months.  It's a start, right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-2612417277164909930?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/2612417277164909930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=2612417277164909930&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/2612417277164909930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/2612417277164909930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2011/09/labor-day.html' title='Labor Day'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zaGMsMb64xA/TmmT72E1kMI/AAAAAAAABdU/3dJMUNAKUrY/s72-c/DSCF4368.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-3829843757173956933</id><published>2011-09-05T10:52:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-09-05T10:58:52.930-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Little Milee</title><content type='html'>I think someone is a little tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-S0A5_xcRvUA/TmT_hGXwnSI/AAAAAAAABc8/RUInxHkwB3s/s1600/DSCF4363.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-S0A5_xcRvUA/TmT_hGXwnSI/AAAAAAAABc8/RUInxHkwB3s/s320/DSCF4363.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5648920776740478242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-94rBSHxOsmU/TmT_hSiAkWI/AAAAAAAABdE/jgxV8lHLEOc/s1600/DSCF4364.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-94rBSHxOsmU/TmT_hSiAkWI/AAAAAAAABdE/jgxV8lHLEOc/s320/DSCF4364.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5648920780004692322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yep, sleepy...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-we22jTCvLhI/TmT_hvuV_9I/AAAAAAAABdM/FhAE9UrDzT4/s1600/DSCF4365.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-we22jTCvLhI/TmT_hvuV_9I/AAAAAAAABdM/FhAE9UrDzT4/s320/DSCF4365.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5648920787841056722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Really really really sleepy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-3829843757173956933?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3829843757173956933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=3829843757173956933&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/3829843757173956933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/3829843757173956933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2011/09/little-milee.html' title='Little Milee'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-S0A5_xcRvUA/TmT_hGXwnSI/AAAAAAAABc8/RUInxHkwB3s/s72-c/DSCF4363.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-6853472399214682331</id><published>2011-09-01T19:37:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-09-01T20:05:55.281-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Missing</title><content type='html'>So, what did you all do on this lovely first day of September?  I went to playgroup, made lunch for my kids, baked 4 loaves of bread, 2 loaves of zucchini bread, made homemade pop-tarts, lost Kember, and generally freaked out.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kbx6mWtiYf0/TmA5Fc3AZFI/AAAAAAAABcs/hbjgUAud2xY/s1600/DSCF4362.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kbx6mWtiYf0/TmA5Fc3AZFI/AAAAAAAABcs/hbjgUAud2xY/s320/DSCF4362.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5647576698531636306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And now on to the long version of the story.  So about a half hour after Kember gets home from school there is a knock on the door.  A little friend came over to play.  Huh...well, I guess if her parents are okay with just randomly going to someones house it's okay by me.  I know where my kid is anyway.  So, they play for about an hour while I finish up in the kitchen.  Five o'clock rolls around so I tell Kember that she can walk her friend home if she wants, and I'll get the mail.  So I walk with the boys to the mailbox and wait on the driveway for Kember to come back.  She doesn't come.  So, I walk up the street a bit to find her.  Umm...can't see her anywhere and have no idea which street she is on.  I'm assuming she went into her friends house and stayed, but...???? I don't know this girl, so I have no idea where she lives.  All I know is that she is close by because she rides the bus with Kember.  So I walk down another street and ask some kid who's working outside if he saw two little girls walk this way.  He didn't notice anything.  Okay, I'm starting to panic a little bit now, and when I panic I get angry, so naturally I take it out on Caden who is walking with me...because I'm just a great mom like that.  So I go back home thinking maybe she's there (although I know she isn't, because if she went home and I wasn't there she would freak out and start screaming for me...no screaming=no Kember).  I gather up Cole, Caden and the baby and we start out again.  I go to a lady's house that has kids on the bus stop hoping she would know this girl and where she lives.  No luck there.  But on my way I meet up with another girl from playgroup and of course I start crying.  She stays and helps me look for Kember.  While checking one home I ask if my daughter is there.  She looks at me funny and then says, "You look familiar...did you grow up here?"  Yes "Are you a Linford?"  I'm not thinking to straight at this point (panicking, remember?) so I say something brilliant like "Should I know you?" nice, huh?  Anyway, it turns out to be Melissa Caulkins whom I used to live by.  Small world...small small world.  Well, she decides to help out too (because again, I've started to cry).  The other girl (who incidentally is also named Tara, and is super cute and nice) has to go home because her husband has to start his second job, and her baby is sleeping.  I decide to try one more block before I really started to panic.  This time when I knock on the door a familiar face opens it and I say, "Is my daughter here?!" "Yep" but he looked at me kind of funny so I had to explain that I had no idea where she was.  Yep, mother of the year award to me.  I got Kember out of the house and promptly started to cry.  Good times...good times.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7Yz0KozogO8/TmA5FsFeODI/AAAAAAAABc0/sNvpW-grg-8/s1600/DSCF4367.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7Yz0KozogO8/TmA5FsFeODI/AAAAAAAABc0/sNvpW-grg-8/s320/DSCF4367.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5647576702618843186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And in other news, I baked...and everything turned out how it was supposed to (mostly).  The bread looks good (don't know if it tastes good, but looks are important, right?) and the pop-tarts, while I'm not the biggest fan of them (I'm going to make them again with a pie crust instead) the kids went ga-ga over them.  So, success there.  I also made two loaves of zucchini bread, which didn't go as well as I had hoped, but whatever.  I may have lost my child, but I'm domestic, right?  Sigh.  At least Caden had fun helping me make the bread.   You should have seen him pound the dough out.  I told him to karate chop it and he thought that was cool.  He really liked to roll it into the shape too.  He's a keeper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-6853472399214682331?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6853472399214682331/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=6853472399214682331&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/6853472399214682331'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/6853472399214682331'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2011/09/missing.html' title='Missing'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kbx6mWtiYf0/TmA5Fc3AZFI/AAAAAAAABcs/hbjgUAud2xY/s72-c/DSCF4362.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-2446562436515333748</id><published>2011-08-28T12:48:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-08-28T13:16:40.978-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday Thoughts</title><content type='html'>I really like this ward we are in.  It has been a long time since I've enjoyed all of my meetings so much!  Today in Sunday School we talked about the Holy Ghost.  The question he asked us was "How well do you know the Holy Ghost?"  It's kind of a thought provoking question isn't it.  Have you ever thought about it before?  I don't know that I ever have, but it's made me look at my relationship with the Holy Ghost a little differently.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Relief Society our lesson was on the Atonement.  She told us how when she was getting a temple recommend she was telling the stake president about some not great feelings she was having towards some people.  He asked her if she was praying for them.  She was completely taken back by this.  She said, "You mean I have to pray for them?"  It made me think of my own experiences with this.  I've been blessed in my life to pretty much like most people.  However, every once in a while I come across a person who just drive me batty and I can't stand.  I put this advice into action, and now I can honestly say that I like this person.  And the funny thing?  It wasn't the person who change at all.  They are still the same as they ever were, but the Lord changed my heart.  Give it a try.  You might be surprised at the results.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what talk she was reading from.  It was in a recent Ensign because I remember it, but in the talk the guy said that he shares experiences from his brothers life "with permission."  She said it stuck with her because how much would we talk about other people if we had to get permission to do so.  It was kind of random, but it made me think a little bit.&lt;br /&gt;It was a great day in church today.  Hopefully we will start feeling apart of this ward soon.  Playgroup is on Thursday and maybe I'll be able to make some friends there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-2446562436515333748?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/2446562436515333748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=2446562436515333748&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/2446562436515333748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/2446562436515333748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2011/08/sunday-thoughts_28.html' title='Sunday Thoughts'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-7426370426182529440</id><published>2011-08-27T13:18:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-08-27T16:56:00.827-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Kember &amp; Caden Funnies</title><content type='html'>Kember: "Mom!  Can Zoie and I watch "Princess Diarrheas?"&lt;br /&gt;Me: "What?  Can you watch Princess Diaries?"&lt;br /&gt;Kember: "Ya!"&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Oh..okay"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*Andrea corrected her later, telling her what diarrhea meant and that the word was diary.  Kember didn't think it was as funny as we thought it was.  She started to cry.  Oh my sensitive children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later------&lt;br /&gt;Me: "What movie did you watch?"&lt;br /&gt;Caden: "Screws."&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Excuse me?"&lt;br /&gt;Caden: "You know, the one with Christmas and spirits and stuff."&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Oh, Muppets Christmas Carol?"&lt;br /&gt;Caden: "Ya."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boy, I really need to start saying words more clearly.  Screws?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-7426370426182529440?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7426370426182529440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=7426370426182529440&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/7426370426182529440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/7426370426182529440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2011/08/kember-funnies.html' title='Kember &amp; Caden Funnies'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-6657752573274962661</id><published>2011-08-25T20:43:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-08-25T20:52:57.919-06:00</updated><title type='text'>1st day of First Grade</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RwBmkPgS7ak/TlcJ_ilmCJI/AAAAAAAABcU/97Xj9Kpywmg/s1600/DSCF4353.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RwBmkPgS7ak/TlcJ_ilmCJI/AAAAAAAABcU/97Xj9Kpywmg/s320/DSCF4353.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5644991645153101970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-q4RwMdthwoc/TlcKAMwbmZI/AAAAAAAABcc/3Mss8ZHyk-w/s1600/DSCF4354.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-q4RwMdthwoc/TlcKAMwbmZI/AAAAAAAABcc/3Mss8ZHyk-w/s320/DSCF4354.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5644991656472844690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was the big big big day!  Yeah!  School Started again!  Kember was pretty excited to start the first grade.  She had a rough time sleeping last night, and I'm blaming it on pre-school jitters.  She was very excited to bring a lunch (although, she isn't excited anymore...now she wants to eat school lunch...sigh). She was a little worried about finding the lunch room and getting on the bus.  I have to admit, that part surprised me.  I went with her to the bus stop this morning, and when it was time to get on it took a little prodding to convince her to go.  Last time she rode a bus she jumped on before the other people were able to get off.  I think she's okay with it now though.  She didn't tell me much of what happened at school, but hopefully she will be more verbal tomorrow.  She did tell me that her table was the quietest so they got 6 stars.  When they get 15 they get to get a prize in the cafeteria.  Hopefully she will make friends soon.  I was hoping someone on the bus stop would be in her class, but no go there.  Maybe we will meet some new neighbors soon that she can play with.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SCZjn1RBXJ0/TlcKAaUCGrI/AAAAAAAABck/yeU70K1wABo/s1600/DSCF4355.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-SCZjn1RBXJ0/TlcKAaUCGrI/AAAAAAAABck/yeU70K1wABo/s320/DSCF4355.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5644991660111829682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I realize this isn't the most flattering picture, but I didn't want to hold everyone up while she posed for me, so this is what you get.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-6657752573274962661?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6657752573274962661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=6657752573274962661&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/6657752573274962661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/6657752573274962661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2011/08/1st-day-of-first-grade.html' title='1st day of First Grade'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-RwBmkPgS7ak/TlcJ_ilmCJI/AAAAAAAABcU/97Xj9Kpywmg/s72-c/DSCF4353.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-6358335462233783526</id><published>2011-08-23T22:04:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2011-08-23T22:19:11.169-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Notice anything new?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Jg8UOYhEfRc/TlR7W06Y9jI/AAAAAAAABcM/OWJiQYYbw4I/s1600/DSCF4352.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Jg8UOYhEfRc/TlR7W06Y9jI/AAAAAAAABcM/OWJiQYYbw4I/s320/DSCF4352.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5644271865092961842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anything?  Anything at all?&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dv5VTydogfg/TlR6PvC5tgI/AAAAAAAABcE/VTcUdXvsuA8/s1600/DSCF4351.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-dv5VTydogfg/TlR6PvC5tgI/AAAAAAAABcE/VTcUdXvsuA8/s320/DSCF4351.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5644270643747337730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Kember has been after me for quite some time to get her ears pierced.  Which is quite ironic because when I was shopping with Carol Lee at the mall awhile back the two of us were trying hard to convince Kember to get her ears pierced and she wanted nothing to do with it...until lately.  So, since we were in Provo today and at the mall Dan and I figured..."why not?" So, she picked the studs and sat very still and quietly.  She only said, "Ouch" twice and that was that.  I have to admit to being surprised.  I thought there would be tears, screaming,  gnashing of teeth and quite a lot of convincing on my part to get the other ear done.  But nope...there was just, "Ouch" twice.  I'll take it.  She is super excited about cleaning them.  Let's hope she stays excited.&lt;br /&gt;We went to back to school night tonight for Kember.  First grade...pretty exciting stuff.  Back to School Night was a mess, but hopefully Thursday will be fun for her.  Speaking of...Thursday...really?  Why are you (meaning the powers that be in the school realm) starting school on a Thursday?  How does this make sense?  Whatever.  Anyway, new school, new earrings.  How can life get any better?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-6358335462233783526?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6358335462233783526/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=6358335462233783526&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/6358335462233783526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/6358335462233783526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2011/08/notice-anything-new.html' title='Notice anything new?'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Jg8UOYhEfRc/TlR7W06Y9jI/AAAAAAAABcM/OWJiQYYbw4I/s72-c/DSCF4352.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-51142926438801522</id><published>2011-08-21T20:23:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2011-08-21T20:38:56.597-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday thoughts</title><content type='html'>First of all, I would like to wish the love of my life a very Happy Birthday!  It stinks to be sick on your birthday, but he's dealt with it pretty well.  It was a very uneventful birthday, but Dan, I love you.  I love watching you, and I love that you just keep getting better.  I thought you were great when we got married, but you are even better now.  Feel better and we will thoroughly celebrate when you feel better! Your wife loves you and your kids adore you.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vvEG3grBORw/TlG_yYaAPeI/AAAAAAAABb8/HV7z_3YVCE4/s1600/DSCN1514.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vvEG3grBORw/TlG_yYaAPeI/AAAAAAAABb8/HV7z_3YVCE4/s320/DSCN1514.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643502680337825250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today in Relief Society we were talking about family history and genealogy.  I will admit that neither topic has interested me much, and I shy away from it.  I claim that I'm doing my part by blogging and taking pictures and such.  I claim that it isn't my season to be doing stuff like this right now.  Later, I will get to it later.&lt;br /&gt;I had a thought during the lesson that I was too cowardly to share during class.  So I will throw it out to all the blogging world (because we all know how deep my thoughts are :). &lt;br /&gt;Sadly, I remember very little of my wedding.  I didn't write much down and was too taken up by everything to remember much.  However, I do remember taking my endowments out.  The part that stands out the most is when I went through the veil.  As Dan pulled me through I was suddenly surrounded by people I love.  All my family was there, all of Dan's family was there, and all were hugging me and welcoming me "home" and into the family.  It was such a strong feeling to see everyone that I loved in that room.  I can only imagine how it will be when we die and are met, not only by the close family that has gone before, but by all our ancestors waiting to welcome us home.  And, if we do our temple work, by all those that we've done the work for.  If I was overwhelmed with the love I felt with just our two families, I can only imagine what it will be like for the love of generations to cross the veil.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, it kind of made me want to start doing something family history related.  I've been meaning to start indexing for a long time and haven't done it, so this was hopefully the push I needed to get started.  Anyone want to come show me how to do it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-51142926438801522?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/51142926438801522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=51142926438801522&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/51142926438801522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/51142926438801522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2011/08/sunday-thoughts.html' title='Sunday thoughts'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-vvEG3grBORw/TlG_yYaAPeI/AAAAAAAABb8/HV7z_3YVCE4/s72-c/DSCN1514.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-3247273801905486711</id><published>2011-07-31T23:05:00.007-06:00</published><updated>2011-07-31T23:33:47.286-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The conclusion</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;font-size:78%;" &gt;*My goal for blogging is to have either the same number of posts as my mother or to have at least one more....being the last day of the month, and almost midnight, I need to hurry to have the same number of posts...so here are a few quick things of what's been happening this month.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Family reunion number three took place at the end of July.  Actually, it started on Kember's birthday, so that is what we did for her this year.  I've been too pre-occupied with moving and renting our house to throw her a party...that and we were never really home to throw one anyway.  But back to the reunion.  All (or most actually) the Johnson clan met up at Cove Fort for the start of the Johnson Do-Dah.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a picnic lunch (which, because it's the Johnson's was absolutely delicious and amazing...bring on the food!) and then toured the fort.  The kids had a great time playing around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HLXnleZ3Mvw/TjY1m5wtP8I/AAAAAAAABb0/XAz0L7FTsmk/s1600/IMG_0788.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HLXnleZ3Mvw/TjY1m5wtP8I/AAAAAAAABb0/XAz0L7FTsmk/s320/IMG_0788.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635750926157168578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R2UotXmMcvw/TjY1mrxeUUI/AAAAAAAABbs/eq9xCpnaB4Q/s1600/IMG_0801.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R2UotXmMcvw/TjY1mrxeUUI/AAAAAAAABbs/eq9xCpnaB4Q/s320/IMG_0801.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635750922402287938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Then we headed to the ranch and got everyone settled in.  We stayed up late talking and because of children who had a hard time during the night, we didn't sleep much either.  By we I mean everyone who had to listen to screaming children and an unhappy mother (have I mentioned I get a bit cranky with lack of sleep?).  Dan had to work again, so I soloed it to this reunion as well.  It's a good thing I love his family so much.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the next day we went on a mini-fau trek.  I was super excited for this because I've never done a trek before.  They became popular after my time in Young Women's (boy that makes me sound old....I guess I have been out of high school for 10 years now...crazy...crazy, crazy, crazy).  It wasn't far, only about a mile and half or so, but it was a lot of fun.  Carol Lee made skirts and bonnets for my girls, and they had handcarts for each family to push.  So we loaded the babies on our hand cart and away we went!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-X7qkl7b-H74/TjY0jib9EII/AAAAAAAABa8/GdQX-GZATtg/s1600/IMG_0813.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-X7qkl7b-H74/TjY0jib9EII/AAAAAAAABa8/GdQX-GZATtg/s320/IMG_0813.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635749768844873858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-at14Zb2T0k8/TjY1G4CFCWI/AAAAAAAABbk/EWUz8a15H7s/s1600/IMG_0808.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-at14Zb2T0k8/TjY1G4CFCWI/AAAAAAAABbk/EWUz8a15H7s/s320/IMG_0808.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635750375937345890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here is most of the Johnson clan when we stopped for lunch.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vD4TTNfdB0k/TjY00-7GArI/AAAAAAAABbM/zaTrD1xMT4o/s1600/IMG_0816.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vD4TTNfdB0k/TjY00-7GArI/AAAAAAAABbM/zaTrD1xMT4o/s320/IMG_0816.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635750068549452466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And away we go again.  Our handcart was pulled by Jed the whole way, with other helpers, like Nanci.  The kids got to push.  Kember was a real trooper.  After lunch she told grandma, "I'm ready to push!"  I was really proud of her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-G-AmIo4AbsY/TjY0jwuGzdI/AAAAAAAABbE/AcpIOZtBZJI/s1600/IMG_0815.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-G-AmIo4AbsY/TjY0jwuGzdI/AAAAAAAABbE/AcpIOZtBZJI/s320/IMG_0815.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635749772679106002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Caden wasn't too excited about the whole "walking" idea.  So he complained for a bit, but got into things towards the middle of the trek.  All the kids ended up riding for the last bit.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9uE44b-afv0/TjY01jeI8JI/AAAAAAAABbU/noGlOWmGsUM/s1600/IMG_0819.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9uE44b-afv0/TjY01jeI8JI/AAAAAAAABbU/noGlOWmGsUM/s320/IMG_0819.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635750078360121490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think Cole walked one step of the trek.  He was either carried by grandpa or was sitting on someone's hand cart.  The little stinker (literally as well as figuratively).  And the babies even got to be carried for the last bit too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lelXkMFiLr8/TjY1GcG63gI/AAAAAAAABbc/1SxhC6SZADM/s1600/IMG_0821.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lelXkMFiLr8/TjY1GcG63gI/AAAAAAAABbc/1SxhC6SZADM/s320/IMG_0821.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635750368441458178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Johnson get togethers are always fun, and I'm glad I got to go.  I didn't see the kids much this reunion...at the ranch all the kids just go play, and you don't have to worry about anything.  They love it, and it's nice for all the parents too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A good time was had by all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-3247273801905486711?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3247273801905486711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=3247273801905486711&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/3247273801905486711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/3247273801905486711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2011/07/conclusion.html' title='The conclusion'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HLXnleZ3Mvw/TjY1m5wtP8I/AAAAAAAABb0/XAz0L7FTsmk/s72-c/IMG_0788.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-7630929292653199780</id><published>2011-07-31T22:39:00.010-06:00</published><updated>2011-07-31T23:04:16.957-06:00</updated><title type='text'>In between (or the 4th of July activities)</title><content type='html'>After the Linford reunion and before the Christensen reunion I stayed at Scott and Carol Lee's.  It was fun to celebrate the 4th with them, although I missed all the city activities.  This is what we did instead.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AI66fKPTxTs/TjYuwrhxeDI/AAAAAAAABZ0/F3588N7Jiaw/s1600/DSCF4223.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AI66fKPTxTs/TjYuwrhxeDI/AAAAAAAABZ0/F3588N7Jiaw/s320/DSCF4223.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635743397553731634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-17GcQiw6FCk/TjYurLT0iOI/AAAAAAAABZs/M7-2nhaLxro/s1600/DSCF4222.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-17GcQiw6FCk/TjYurLT0iOI/AAAAAAAABZs/M7-2nhaLxro/s320/DSCF4222.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635743303005931746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We waited for the Salina parade to start.  I will admit that I'm not a huge fan of parades.  I don't remember ever really liking them.  However, I take my children because parades are supposed to be fun and kids like them.  Except, whenever we go we sit in the wrong spot and my kids never get any of the candy that gets thrown out.  So honestly I didn't have high hopes for this parade, but much to my surprise I enjoyed it.  The company was great (Nanci is hilarious to watch parades with) and tons of candy got thrown out why (which I'm still enjoying...shhh, don't tell the kids).&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5n2g8tZNLOU/TjYuqZsiwfI/AAAAAAAABZc/DcCqDbYZmxA/s1600/DSCF4228.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5n2g8tZNLOU/TjYuqZsiwfI/AAAAAAAABZc/DcCqDbYZmxA/s320/DSCF4228.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635743289687851506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Trying to tell five anxious children not to cross the white line for candy (when everyone else was) is not the easiest task.  But their sacks still got full regardless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We did fireworks (compliments of Dan).&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-k4bERTBrVvg/TjYuqiQcqjI/AAAAAAAABZk/EyKgilGZDnM/s1600/DSCF4231.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-k4bERTBrVvg/TjYuqiQcqjI/AAAAAAAABZk/EyKgilGZDnM/s320/DSCF4231.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635743291985930802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_Ma1t1lqKtE/TjYvLRHE_2I/AAAAAAAABaE/NH3Wo6j9roY/s1600/DSCF4235.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-_Ma1t1lqKtE/TjYvLRHE_2I/AAAAAAAABaE/NH3Wo6j9roY/s320/DSCF4235.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635743854318911330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9XaC78UVcO0/TjYu5FqTuDI/AAAAAAAABZ8/ta8I7cCsdLg/s1600/DSCF4233.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9XaC78UVcO0/TjYu5FqTuDI/AAAAAAAABZ8/ta8I7cCsdLg/s320/DSCF4233.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635743542007806002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You hear it a hundred times, and I've said it that many, but it still surprises me.  My children are different.  And it's times that this that I laugh at the differences.  In this picture Cole is so excited he can hardly stand it (and Caden thought this was "Sweet" to use a word he uses right now).&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EzyaQK6Hzdg/TjYvLtkdf2I/AAAAAAAABaM/aX9v_EWP0-8/s1600/DSCF4240.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EzyaQK6Hzdg/TjYvLtkdf2I/AAAAAAAABaM/aX9v_EWP0-8/s320/DSCF4240.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635743861958344546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And at the same time, here is Kember...hiding behind a cousin.  She later ran inside and decided she doesn't like fireworks much.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-O69J0PB1AAc/TjYvL58wVTI/AAAAAAAABaU/-UFhDcaM3Hg/s1600/DSCF4241.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-O69J0PB1AAc/TjYvL58wVTI/AAAAAAAABaU/-UFhDcaM3Hg/s320/DSCF4241.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635743865281467698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The next day we played in the "pool".  I'm not sure if it's a supplement tub or not, but whatever it is works great, and Carol Lee had the genius idea of adding a slide to it.  The kids played out here for hours.  Dan even got in the "pool" with the kids.  It was a little too cold for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7MiWFeUOPsk/TjYvV_fwOmI/AAAAAAAABac/CyZCltvK4Wo/s1600/DSCF4245.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7MiWFeUOPsk/TjYvV_fwOmI/AAAAAAAABac/CyZCltvK4Wo/s320/DSCF4245.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635744038569130594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xx8WE3ByQsk/TjYv1hCvgYI/AAAAAAAABas/Eb8tl4tBkKE/s1600/DSCF4249.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xx8WE3ByQsk/TjYv1hCvgYI/AAAAAAAABas/Eb8tl4tBkKE/s320/DSCF4249.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635744580150198658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;See, even Milee got in.  She didn't love it, but she's a cutie!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nxjuv-iVVDI/TjYv1yKDc4I/AAAAAAAABa0/-NxTg-h5vMY/s1600/DSCF4250.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-nxjuv-iVVDI/TjYv1yKDc4I/AAAAAAAABa0/-NxTg-h5vMY/s320/DSCF4250.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635744584744268674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-27oQnIYQ9-s/TjYvpjiVbsI/AAAAAAAABak/7dD0-nQuMig/s1600/DSCF4248.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-27oQnIYQ9-s/TjYvpjiVbsI/AAAAAAAABak/7dD0-nQuMig/s320/DSCF4248.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635744374661148354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And when the boys were done in the water they attacked each other with random things that turned into swords and guns. &lt;br /&gt;It was a really nice way to spend the 4th of July holiday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-7630929292653199780?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7630929292653199780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=7630929292653199780&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/7630929292653199780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/7630929292653199780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2011/07/in-between-or-4th-of-july-activities.html' title='In between (or the 4th of July activities)'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AI66fKPTxTs/TjYuwrhxeDI/AAAAAAAABZ0/F3588N7Jiaw/s72-c/DSCF4223.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-6970080769193964183</id><published>2011-07-31T22:18:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2011-07-31T22:38:41.145-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Into the woods</title><content type='html'>second family reunion of the summer was with the Christensen side of the family.  They go camping for a couple days every summer.  It's been awhile since we've been to one of these reunions.  In fact, the last one I went without Dan and I drove to Colorado with my sister-in-law Nanci (who was also husbandless).  Since Dan wasn't working for the first two days of this reunion we decided to go up.  But since they were camping I made an executive decision that we weren't going to stay.  We were just going to go for the day and have a good time.  So we drive up Ephraim Canyon and get everyone out of the car.  Dan turns to me and says, "Oh, let's stay!"  Sigh.  Fine.  Mind you, no one is dressed for camping...Milee is only wearing a onsie, I don't have a tent or anything, but Dan calls his brother and catches him before he leaves and has him bring up a tent and some sleeping bags for us.  But stay we did, and it was fun.  Well, not the sleeping part, because there wasn't a lot of that going on, but the other parts were fun.  Actually, after getting up with Milee for the upteenth time (I think she was freezing), I had Dan get her.  He took her out of the tent and it must have woken up his mom (actually, it probably woke up the whole camp...baby crying...great sound) and she offered to take Milee.  So she drove around with her till she fell asleep and then stayed in the car with her so she could stay sleeping.  Thanks Carol Lee!  You rock!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-D2WEM8AvYaQ/TjYqsGFd3dI/AAAAAAAABZM/PkCuD9LfChY/s1600/DSCF4274.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-D2WEM8AvYaQ/TjYqsGFd3dI/AAAAAAAABZM/PkCuD9LfChY/s320/DSCF4274.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635738920736906706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;See, Milee in Kembers jacket and a onsie.  Very camperish don't you think?&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-a-IW7H7x7m4/TjYqr9lkB7I/AAAAAAAABZE/XCuxIOrBzz4/s1600/DSCF4271.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-a-IW7H7x7m4/TjYqr9lkB7I/AAAAAAAABZE/XCuxIOrBzz4/s320/DSCF4271.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635738918455609266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The kids sure had a lot of fun with their cousins though.  They have a few cousins their age on all sides of the family and they love to hang out with them.  I love that the older cousins will play with them too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FxYYT6blWBM/TjYqsYvrjkI/AAAAAAAABZU/XUE9BcuyfaA/s1600/DSCF4277.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FxYYT6blWBM/TjYqsYvrjkI/AAAAAAAABZU/XUE9BcuyfaA/s320/DSCF4277.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635738925745802818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Cole played ladder golf and was actually quite good at it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-l2b_Z1G0PcY/TjYqUUnQqGI/AAAAAAAABY0/tiZHNwfjEoA/s1600/DSCF4265.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-l2b_Z1G0PcY/TjYqUUnQqGI/AAAAAAAABY0/tiZHNwfjEoA/s320/DSCF4265.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635738512319883362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So here is Kember at dinner time.  Now look at the next picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8EGFsxQsBwQ/TjYqUm33EVI/AAAAAAAABY8/uC-3hW_3t5o/s1600/DSCF4266.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8EGFsxQsBwQ/TjYqUm33EVI/AAAAAAAABY8/uC-3hW_3t5o/s320/DSCF4266.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635738517221347666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here is everyone else at dinner time.  I have no idea why Kember was sitting alone...She just wanted to.  So that is where she and I sat.  Good times...good times.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-voEQYbzWIhw/TjYqUBmcdWI/AAAAAAAABYs/WYhS9THU2ps/s1600/DSCF4263.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-voEQYbzWIhw/TjYqUBmcdWI/AAAAAAAABYs/WYhS9THU2ps/s320/DSCF4263.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635738507216188770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I just think he's cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EMa6v__N6vA/TjYqEEv3HlI/AAAAAAAABYc/mOKRdGQQ8Ao/s1600/DSCF4258.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EMa6v__N6vA/TjYqEEv3HlI/AAAAAAAABYc/mOKRdGQQ8Ao/s320/DSCF4258.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635738233183084114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Ah....bug spray.  Don't leave home without it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PDrd1d854jA/TjYqDpMuDOI/AAAAAAAABYU/LpZ6nVtEymY/s1600/DSCF4256.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-PDrd1d854jA/TjYqDpMuDOI/AAAAAAAABYU/LpZ6nVtEymY/s320/DSCF4256.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635738225787931874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This picture makes me happy.  Caden loved playing in the tent.  Well, Grandma and Grandpa's tent anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Qs8J-OSGyiI/TjYqEsFafBI/AAAAAAAABYk/4-R-lAPJ5Es/s1600/DSCF4259.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Qs8J-OSGyiI/TjYqEsFafBI/AAAAAAAABYk/4-R-lAPJ5Es/s320/DSCF4259.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635738243742465042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The kids found their own space and called it their secret hideout.  I love watching them play together. &lt;br /&gt;We took a couple walks around a lake and it was fun to watch them look at bugs and plants and stuff.  The most exciting thing for them was the dead fish we saw floating in the water.  Good times...good times.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-6970080769193964183?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6970080769193964183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=6970080769193964183&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/6970080769193964183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/6970080769193964183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2011/07/into-woods.html' title='Into the woods'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-D2WEM8AvYaQ/TjYqsGFd3dI/AAAAAAAABZM/PkCuD9LfChY/s72-c/DSCF4274.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-6953506946859065737</id><published>2011-07-10T20:50:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2011-07-10T21:59:23.451-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Tis the season</title><content type='html'>For family reunions, that is.  The Linford reunion was held at Duck Creek this year and it was awesome as always!  I didn't take too many pictures, relying on my siblings for that, but then realized that I won't get their picts. until December...shoot.  Well, I don't have proof, but the reunion was fun.  It started out with me getting rear-ended.  Sounds like something that would happen to me, doesn't it.  I think the kids are terrified to drive with me now.  They freak out when it's raining (and let's be honest, I do too) because of my accident last...August?  And now if they see someone behind me they say, "I hope they don't run into us".  Me too kiddo's...me too.  Oh, no one was hurt (in my car anyway...the guy that did it wasn't the most friendly person ever...so I didn't try to talk to him much).   But for being very minor the ambulance came, the fire truck came, and then we waited for over an hour for the police to come.  Good times....good times.  My brother-in-law who is a cop said that everyone who came was volunteer (except the cop), so even though there were no injuries they all came out anyway.  They were super nice and helpful.  Did I mention that I was driving alone (I mean, not counting my four kids)?  Dan was working and unable to come this year.  Luckily I was following my lovely sister and she stuck around with me and called the family and then mom and dad came out too.  Cause let's make it a family affair when Tarah gets into stupid situations! :)  It was a family reunion after all.  Anyway, to make a long story even longer, the car will get fixed starting tomorrow.  Everybody pray nothing happens to the rental car they give me.  Needless to say my confidence in driving long distances is a little shaken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So...Here are my picture highlights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cole loved loved loved the bugs.  He played with this little guy for awhile.  I think it even crawled in his shirt till Grandma came to the rescue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Qat0HbzSBS4/ThpnZycKWfI/AAAAAAAABXg/PVwBI8AqQus/s1600/DSCN1944.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Qat0HbzSBS4/ThpnZycKWfI/AAAAAAAABXg/PVwBI8AqQus/s320/DSCN1944.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627924377087138290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this is random, I don't have a picture of it but didn't want to forget a highlight for me, but Michelle found a horny toad (which I guess isn't really a toad but a lizard...is that right?) and brought it back to the cabin for all the kids to see.  I thought it was awesome!  Can't wait to see those pictures!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MdTTsH_ClVs/ThpnaBKCVdI/AAAAAAAABXo/4BPohmtdzfQ/s1600/DSCN1949.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MdTTsH_ClVs/ThpnaBKCVdI/AAAAAAAABXo/4BPohmtdzfQ/s320/DSCN1949.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627924381037647314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The kids played in a really cold lake while Cameron, Andrea, my dad and I went running.  Yes, you read that correctly.  I went running.  Okay...that might be a slight exaggeration.  More walking was involved, but we started and ended running...with a little in between.  It was fun in a I hate running, why am I doing this, sort of way.  And the kids really really liked the lake.  I was sad I missed watching them play in it, but very grateful for those who stayed behind to watch my kiddos.  Thanks all!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We played horseshoes.  I haven't played this game for ages...and while I'm no good at it at all, it was fun to play it.  The kids liked it too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-98NPQf6a6ew/ThpnZlWZyJI/AAAAAAAABXY/1pkocqFOwkw/s1600/DSCN1935.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-98NPQf6a6ew/ThpnZlWZyJI/AAAAAAAABXY/1pkocqFOwkw/s320/DSCN1935.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627924373573322898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Caden and I played Volleyball with the Linford cousins.  I may stink at the game but when you are playing with your 4 year old there is noooo pressure.  So that was a lot of fun....even if Caden did get frustrated that he couldn't hit it over the net.  I thought he was doing great just hitting it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-H4e-CfN-0Ag/ThpmZPCtkMI/AAAAAAAABXI/q6EpGpGhyN0/s1600/DSCN1939.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-H4e-CfN-0Ag/ThpmZPCtkMI/AAAAAAAABXI/q6EpGpGhyN0/s320/DSCN1939.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627923268073525442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fireworks were a no no, so we just lit those snakey growy things.  The kids all loved this activity.  I have to admit, it was kind of fun to see how some of them grew together in funny shapes.  And yes, I know my clothes don't match and I look funny.  My 12 year old niece made sure I knew that I looked funny. These we the things I ran in...I wasn't planning on running, and this was the best I could come up with.  I'm on vacation...comfort should count for something...although even when I'm not on vacation I dress like this :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5aQBho73cZg/ThpnaRtF0kI/AAAAAAAABXw/ZCC-5ZSkQhU/s1600/DSCN1950.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5aQBho73cZg/ThpnaRtF0kI/AAAAAAAABXw/ZCC-5ZSkQhU/s320/DSCN1950.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627924385479643714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really like this picture.  Both Rorie and Milee just chillin'.  Did I mention Rorie is pregnant with twins?  Super excited for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OCzkcpMxU8U/ThpmZW2C-RI/AAAAAAAABXQ/mMtciPq8cmg/s1600/DSCN1932.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OCzkcpMxU8U/ThpmZW2C-RI/AAAAAAAABXQ/mMtciPq8cmg/s320/DSCN1932.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627923270167886098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We ate smore's and got all sticky.  It was ooey-gooey fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Rp96O5GesFM/Thplu2PFKXI/AAAAAAAABWw/T-Qk5HKPamY/s1600/DSCF4207.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Rp96O5GesFM/Thplu2PFKXI/AAAAAAAABWw/T-Qk5HKPamY/s320/DSCF4207.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627922539860011378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Lyi9alEUQMA/ThplvMhQs-I/AAAAAAAABW4/0v5lLM7ogM0/s1600/DSCF4218.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Lyi9alEUQMA/ThplvMhQs-I/AAAAAAAABW4/0v5lLM7ogM0/s320/DSCF4218.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627922545841845218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And this picture says it all.   A good time was had by all!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VVgAPT9uZ6s/ThpmY63jgkI/AAAAAAAABXA/RdG-61iBbQ0/s1600/DSCF4220.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VVgAPT9uZ6s/ThpmY63jgkI/AAAAAAAABXA/RdG-61iBbQ0/s320/DSCF4220.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627923262658019906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-20aa713972fd3df9" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v14.nonxt4.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D20aa713972fd3df9%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329986205%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D46820D866C7B412E66C437E4B2AF499FC9BEF2C0.10136D9006B92595E430CA54BEF045B2E6BA1DE3%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D20aa713972fd3df9%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DF-SQoibeHY57B2rXHpp3LF6dPOs&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v14.nonxt4.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D20aa713972fd3df9%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329986205%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D46820D866C7B412E66C437E4B2AF499FC9BEF2C0.10136D9006B92595E430CA54BEF045B2E6BA1DE3%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D20aa713972fd3df9%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DF-SQoibeHY57B2rXHpp3LF6dPOs&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-6953506946859065737?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6953506946859065737/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=6953506946859065737&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/6953506946859065737'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/6953506946859065737'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2011/07/tis-season.html' title='Tis the season'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Qat0HbzSBS4/ThpnZycKWfI/AAAAAAAABXg/PVwBI8AqQus/s72-c/DSCN1944.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-4337238643229270518</id><published>2011-06-16T08:00:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-06-16T08:00:08.383-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Gifts</title><content type='html'>My kids are sweet.  Occasionally they like to give me things.  Cole told me that he picked flowers for me....okay, but where were they?  They he started to pull handfuls out of his pockets.   Good thing they didn't go through the wash like they normally would have.  It was too cute.  Thanks buddy for the flowers.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jgeh8oe52nM/TfbIEqSAQSI/AAAAAAAABWg/6dcsZTHoj_Y/s1600/DSCF4037.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jgeh8oe52nM/TfbIEqSAQSI/AAAAAAAABWg/6dcsZTHoj_Y/s320/DSCF4037.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617897567586107682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-4337238643229270518?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4337238643229270518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=4337238643229270518&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/4337238643229270518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/4337238643229270518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2011/06/gifts.html' title='Gifts'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-jgeh8oe52nM/TfbIEqSAQSI/AAAAAAAABWg/6dcsZTHoj_Y/s72-c/DSCF4037.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-2835632491024556333</id><published>2011-06-15T08:00:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2011-06-15T08:00:06.719-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Mud Wars</title><content type='html'>We were trying to get our backyard cleaned up so it would look nicer for potential buyers (that isn't going well...if you know of anyone who needs a house in St George send them our way) and we created a muddy river instead.  But no worries, the kids had a blast.  Well, Kember and Cole did anyway.  Caden wanted nothing to do with it once I told him that he couldn't get other people muddy if he didn't want them getting him muddy.  So Kember and Cole threw mud at each other for a while.  They loved every bit of it until I got to clean them off with the hose.  Apparently the water was really cold...but I thought it was fun to squirt them off!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jawkFnNCOts/TfWf1Y2wbLI/AAAAAAAABWI/WoIo65bXrP0/s1600/DSCF4010.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jawkFnNCOts/TfWf1Y2wbLI/AAAAAAAABWI/WoIo65bXrP0/s320/DSCF4010.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617571849768561842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DedsM_4YdMU/TfWf2XO8jGI/AAAAAAAABWY/Xoo6wmEoh8Q/s1600/DSCF4012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-DedsM_4YdMU/TfWf2XO8jGI/AAAAAAAABWY/Xoo6wmEoh8Q/s320/DSCF4012.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617571866513017954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yatNCAes_1Y/TfWf1-PKq1I/AAAAAAAABWQ/nbGh3H3Dt2E/s1600/DSCF4011.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yatNCAes_1Y/TfWf1-PKq1I/AAAAAAAABWQ/nbGh3H3Dt2E/s320/DSCF4011.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617571859803056978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And just for the record Cameron, (I know you don't read my blog but someone in the family can tell you) Kember is wearing the shirt you gave her and yes, it is muddy, but no I didn't tell her to change into it to be a mud play shirt.  She was wearing it to start with and I just didn't stop her or tell her to change...and yes, all the mud came out and she still wears the shirt everywhere...as do the boys.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-2835632491024556333?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/2835632491024556333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=2835632491024556333&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/2835632491024556333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/2835632491024556333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2011/06/mud-wars.html' title='Mud Wars'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jawkFnNCOts/TfWf1Y2wbLI/AAAAAAAABWI/WoIo65bXrP0/s72-c/DSCF4010.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-171732409154827235</id><published>2011-06-14T08:00:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-06-14T08:00:08.189-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Duck Face</title><content type='html'>Have you ever seen the duck face on Cole?  I was just looking through my pictures and came across these and had to laugh.  He does the duck face when he is getting angry, and it probably doesn't help that I laugh at him...but come on...it's funny looking!  These pictures aren't actually of the duck face, but they are close enough to give you an idea of what it looks like.  He actually has a hurt lip in these pictures.  I don't know how he got it, you'd have to ask grandpa.  This first picture is accurate in how he is normally feeling at the time of the duck face: angry.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-z8cNw27jMmM/TfWcu3qBzCI/AAAAAAAABV4/9a6ibbmr6YE/s1600/DSCF3786.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-z8cNw27jMmM/TfWcu3qBzCI/AAAAAAAABV4/9a6ibbmr6YE/s320/DSCF3786.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617568439242705954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The next picture is accurate in the pouty/duck face.  Just put the two of them together...without a swollen lip.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TB4FVpB9KdE/TfWcvX5c-8I/AAAAAAAABWA/L0akGelx4Yg/s1600/DSCF3787.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TB4FVpB9KdE/TfWcvX5c-8I/AAAAAAAABWA/L0akGelx4Yg/s320/DSCF3787.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5617568447897336770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And just randomly because I can....Cole isn't feeling 100% and so he wakes up at night, but not really wakes up.  Normally a drink of water will calm him down, but tonight he was not awake all the way and obviously distressed.  I asked if he wanted water and he screamed yes, and since I didn't want him to wake up Caden I asked if he wanted to come with me to get it.  He screamed yes again.  So I get him a drink in the kitchen but he doesn't want to drink it in the kitchen, so I take him back to bed and try to give it to him and he's crying about something.  Finally I figure out that he just wanted the cup to be on the floor.  He never did take a sip of the water, but once I put it on the floor he just laid down and pulled the blanket over himself.  What a funny kid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And again, just because I can...the other night at the hotel Dan and I were watching TV or something and the kids were sleeping.  Kember bolts up right and starts lecturing Caden in her sleep.  It was the funniest thing ever.  I asked Dan if I talked in my sleep and he said no, but then I got to thinking...how would he know?  He'd sleep right through it.  So I wonder if it's hereditary, or if she was just really really frustrated with Caden in her dreams.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-171732409154827235?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/171732409154827235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=171732409154827235&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/171732409154827235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/171732409154827235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2011/06/duck-face.html' title='Duck Face'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-z8cNw27jMmM/TfWcu3qBzCI/AAAAAAAABV4/9a6ibbmr6YE/s72-c/DSCF3786.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-5820913803941973135</id><published>2011-06-12T22:31:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-06-12T22:56:48.803-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Look Who's Crawling</title><content type='html'>Well, you can't really tell from the video because she's distracted by the camera, but she really is crawling and surprisingly enough it isn't a gimpy crawl like all the others have had.  Sometimes she will try to use her feet like walking with her hands down, but obviously that doesn't get her very far.  No, for serious movement she goes all out, and it is too cute.  She started crawling/moving about three weeks ago and I thought I should probably blog her progress, since she is mentioned very little on the blog (although, since I don't blog often, everyone is mentioned very little!).  Hopefully I can get the video to work because then you'd get to see her sweet smile and hear her laugh.  Really, she's a cutie.  It's actually really funny to watch her try to crawl on our wood floor with pants on.  She slips a lot but keeps trying to go forward.  She also loves (and I do mean LOVES to stand.  She pulls herself up on anything she can reach and just is so proud of herself.  And then if you hold her hands and walk a bit she just giggles and laughs.  She's a cutie alright.  Oh, have I already mentioned that in this post?  Well, she is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-80731c9f78428f9e" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v3.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D80731c9f78428f9e%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329986205%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D747A06C248D565F50C6F2423C7C54DA04689BE84.721642CED23531A006B2273CC6F64B6E24965F4F%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D80731c9f78428f9e%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DCWzJuG22867g-vG-m165IZiOEDg&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v3.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D80731c9f78428f9e%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329986205%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D747A06C248D565F50C6F2423C7C54DA04689BE84.721642CED23531A006B2273CC6F64B6E24965F4F%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D80731c9f78428f9e%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DCWzJuG22867g-vG-m165IZiOEDg&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-5820913803941973135?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5820913803941973135/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=5820913803941973135&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/5820913803941973135'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/5820913803941973135'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2011/06/look-whos-crawling.html' title='Look Who&apos;s Crawling'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-7657286604564858054</id><published>2011-05-02T14:30:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2011-05-02T14:39:31.745-06:00</updated><title type='text'>48 Hours</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iPLKYYif-HE/Tb8UsiLOLvI/AAAAAAAABVs/qsY9amqQExk/s1600/DSCF8514.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iPLKYYif-HE/Tb8UsiLOLvI/AAAAAAAABVs/qsY9amqQExk/s320/DSCF8514.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5602219216792858354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was told by my old roommate, Becky, that I had 48 hours to blog this picture she took of Milee.  So, Becky, here you go.  It is well within the 48 hours (and within minutes of opening the e-mail :) ).    She even got Milee kind smiling!  Still not as big as it is in person, but I'll take it, especially since I can't get to her smile when I take pictures of her.&lt;br /&gt;It was a great weekend though.  No one took any pictures, but we had a lot of fun.  All the guys (minus Dan...he was on call and couldn't leave) went to Vegas to see my brother-in-law, Nate, race in a car he built.  So, all the girls (minus my sister-in-law Michelle...she got stuck at home with the kiddos) came to St George to have a good time.  All the kids played really well together, and the girls did some shopping, said Happy Birthday to all of us (three of the four girls had birthdays in April)...baked some cookies, and just relaxed.  I'll admit to getting addicted to Angry Birds.  It's a stupid game, but very addicting.  I'm seriously considering getting an iPad just so I can play the game.  But then I tell myself the game probably isn't worth the $600-$800 dollars it would take to get the iPad.  Ah well.  Good times were had by all, and I was super sad to see everyone go home.  Thanks for coming everything.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-7657286604564858054?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7657286604564858054/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=7657286604564858054&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/7657286604564858054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/7657286604564858054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2011/05/48-hours.html' title='48 Hours'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-iPLKYYif-HE/Tb8UsiLOLvI/AAAAAAAABVs/qsY9amqQExk/s72-c/DSCF8514.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-7905022261030273942</id><published>2011-04-15T15:34:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-04-15T15:35:57.236-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Quick little funny</title><content type='html'>Hehehehe...the kids really like singing the primary song Nephi's Courage.  They sing it all the time.  Just now I heard Caden changing the words a bit.  Here is his version of the song, "The Lord commanded Mommy to tell us to go clean."  Ha ha...I love it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-7905022261030273942?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7905022261030273942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=7905022261030273942&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/7905022261030273942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/7905022261030273942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2011/04/quick-little-funny.html' title='Quick little funny'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-1467224854122993587</id><published>2011-04-07T20:42:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-04-07T20:42:00.280-06:00</updated><title type='text'>What have I done?!?!?</title><content type='html'>Where does it end?  When is enough enough?  What did I agree too?!  What was I thinking?  Ugghh.  So, we bought a rabbit for the kids Monday night.  Dan thought it would be a fun FHE and a fun Easter for the kids and apparently I had a weak moment.  Do you know what this means?!  This means a dog is in the nearer future (still, hopefully, the far far far far future).  So, here is the bunny.  She is pretty cute.  Kember just wanted to hold her all night, and Caden wanted a turn but Kember wouldn't let him.  Cole played with it this morning...kind of...it runs away from everyone, but he chased it for a minute.  The chickens aren't a big fan of it :)  Dan and I thought it would be the other way around.  We were worried the chickens would peck it, but no worries so far.  Oh, and on a random side note our last fish bit the dust this morning.  The kids are already talking about the next fish they want.  Ya...that's not going to happen.  I'm pretty sure Dan is on board with that decision too since cleaning the tank was totally his job (I'm not touching that gunk...yuck!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0s4ReDBQzPQ/TZ0lApIsKQI/AAAAAAAABVc/OfLIP0G-hnk/s1600/DSCF3865.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0s4ReDBQzPQ/TZ0lApIsKQI/AAAAAAAABVc/OfLIP0G-hnk/s320/DSCF3865.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5592667005236553986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0s4GD2NaKn4/TZ0ldIQhctI/AAAAAAAABVk/LVsi9kTszEU/s1600/DSCF3863.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0s4GD2NaKn4/TZ0ldIQhctI/AAAAAAAABVk/LVsi9kTszEU/s320/DSCF3863.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5592667494627242706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-1467224854122993587?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1467224854122993587/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=1467224854122993587&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/1467224854122993587'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/1467224854122993587'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2011/04/what-have-i-done.html' title='What have I done?!?!?'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-0s4ReDBQzPQ/TZ0lApIsKQI/AAAAAAAABVc/OfLIP0G-hnk/s72-c/DSCF3865.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-3604989944523017049</id><published>2011-04-06T20:22:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-04-06T20:40:14.777-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Can I take a sick day?</title><content type='html'>I'm not that bad.  Honestly.  It's not one of those sick days that you really just can't move and it's all you can do to turn a movie on for the kids.  I was able to do dishes and laundry and stuff today, but boy, as the day went on I just felt worse and worse.  I was lying on the couch feeling sorry for myself (can I admit that?) and Kember came in with pipe cleaner earings.  Caden was playing with them too, and I wanted in on the fun.  I had them bring me some and I made glasses for everyone.  It was kind of fun, and the kids had fun taking pictures of each other.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yTWBbDzx9kk/TZ0g2DXGThI/AAAAAAAABUs/31X9O3DJ83o/s1600/DSCN1846.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yTWBbDzx9kk/TZ0g2DXGThI/AAAAAAAABUs/31X9O3DJ83o/s320/DSCN1846.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5592662425251237394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qLTOLS1otWA/TZ0g2eeGCTI/AAAAAAAABU0/n8EKCriYi5w/s1600/DSCN1847.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qLTOLS1otWA/TZ0g2eeGCTI/AAAAAAAABU0/n8EKCriYi5w/s320/DSCN1847.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5592662432528337202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3P9JiL57Q9M/TZ0g2vh7voI/AAAAAAAABU8/aog-u9mQZjo/s1600/DSCN1848.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3P9JiL57Q9M/TZ0g2vh7voI/AAAAAAAABU8/aog-u9mQZjo/s320/DSCN1848.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5592662437107842690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mlAe2XG0jhI/TZ0hV-eanZI/AAAAAAAABVE/k0BgeJ0toZQ/s1600/DSCN1849.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mlAe2XG0jhI/TZ0hV-eanZI/AAAAAAAABVE/k0BgeJ0toZQ/s320/DSCN1849.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5592662973695565202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--RgwHTWgK4g/TZ0hWFAik7I/AAAAAAAABVM/r6IjA6b1JlQ/s1600/DSCN1850.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--RgwHTWgK4g/TZ0hWFAik7I/AAAAAAAABVM/r6IjA6b1JlQ/s320/DSCN1850.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5592662975449306034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Cole woke up from his nap just in time to wear the glasses.  He thought they were awesome, and I was loving his stylish hair.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sfXKhnl6Dwc/TZ0hWYVrb7I/AAAAAAAABVU/qj7sjW6a1Bs/s1600/DSCN1855.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sfXKhnl6Dwc/TZ0hWYVrb7I/AAAAAAAABVU/qj7sjW6a1Bs/s320/DSCN1855.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5592662980638240690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Okay, Milee didn't like it so much, but she really did look cute.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-3604989944523017049?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3604989944523017049/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=3604989944523017049&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/3604989944523017049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/3604989944523017049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2011/04/can-i-take-sick-day.html' title='Can I take a sick day?'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yTWBbDzx9kk/TZ0g2DXGThI/AAAAAAAABUs/31X9O3DJ83o/s72-c/DSCN1846.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-5128378963423697336</id><published>2011-03-31T23:17:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2011-03-31T23:28:38.933-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Milee</title><content type='html'>There are a number of posts that I want to write and a number that I  need to write...and instead I decided that I haven't posted anything  about Milee in a long long time, so...you get Milee pictures...Lots of  'em.  Oh, and on a side note for me to remember Milee has started to  roll over from her back to her belly.  She's been mobile for a while  now, which I find funny since she couldn't roll over or crawl, but she  can spin and scoot on her back like there's no tomorrow.  So, in no  particular order...pictures of my smiley Milee (although I have yet to  get a picture of her really really smiling...trust me, cutest thing  ever, and all you have to do is look at her and she just lights up and  gives you the biggest grin ever!  Love it!  Can't seem to get a picture  of it...sigh)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eg1yBCwuLtY/TZVhrlydk9I/AAAAAAAABUk/7AbpQbx7aRU/s1600/DSCN1804.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eg1yBCwuLtY/TZVhrlydk9I/AAAAAAAABUk/7AbpQbx7aRU/s320/DSCN1804.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590481913956373458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Shopping with the girls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XhVGNlNr0zY/TZVhLmgSAXI/AAAAAAAABUU/lXPKaC7La3M/s1600/DSCN0956.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XhVGNlNr0zY/TZVhLmgSAXI/AAAAAAAABUU/lXPKaC7La3M/s320/DSCN0956.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590481364392739186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Blessing day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CxgEVddKyJM/TZVhLScEDYI/AAAAAAAABUM/KL6-kzCDWy0/s1600/DSCF3790.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CxgEVddKyJM/TZVhLScEDYI/AAAAAAAABUM/KL6-kzCDWy0/s320/DSCF3790.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590481359006338434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Keeping warm at the ranch&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tt8C_u7F5Eg/TZVhLz5tk3I/AAAAAAAABUc/Qov13THnE9s/s1600/DSCN1838.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tt8C_u7F5Eg/TZVhLz5tk3I/AAAAAAAABUc/Qov13THnE9s/s320/DSCN1838.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590481367989064562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Thumb sucker (cracks me up...love it)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tzIgmA4qw6U/TZVgWPDYixI/AAAAAAAABT8/rPXwmGF1bMI/s1600/DSCF3771.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tzIgmA4qw6U/TZVgWPDYixI/AAAAAAAABT8/rPXwmGF1bMI/s320/DSCF3771.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590480447564450578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Just a random shot&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-29wTuwsRZkg/TZVgV9LA84I/AAAAAAAABT0/8-31pVHXvBs/s1600/DSCF3773.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-29wTuwsRZkg/TZVgV9LA84I/AAAAAAAABT0/8-31pVHXvBs/s320/DSCF3773.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590480442764620674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Not so sure about Caden holding her, but he's thrilled, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cYb7O8d-vgQ/TZVgWo2VlfI/AAAAAAAABUE/fMczjddGjZg/s1600/DSCF3780.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cYb7O8d-vgQ/TZVgWo2VlfI/AAAAAAAABUE/fMczjddGjZg/s320/DSCF3780.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590480454489052658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And sort of a smile to end with...a wet drooley one!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-5128378963423697336?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5128378963423697336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=5128378963423697336&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/5128378963423697336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/5128378963423697336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2011/03/milee.html' title='Milee'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eg1yBCwuLtY/TZVhrlydk9I/AAAAAAAABUk/7AbpQbx7aRU/s72-c/DSCN1804.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-8114623223682407977</id><published>2011-03-22T08:00:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2011-03-22T08:35:33.620-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Family Home Evening</title><content type='html'>Dan had the greatest idea for FHE today.  It was so fun I'd thought I'd share it with you.  It was kind of spur of the moment so the spiritual side could use some tweaking.  We played church battleship!  Dan hastily made a board for our two teams (girls against boys).  We have the church pictures and Dan would let the kids pick one, and then we'd tell the story of the picture and ask the kids questions.  After they answered right or we were satisfied they were learning something, we let them pick where they thought the other teams ships were.  Caden and Kember really got into this.  I think it was the most fun we've had for FHE in a long long time.  I'm going to try to make and laminate some game boards and use dry erase markers so we can reuse everything.  Caden is actually making his own game board right now.  He just informed me that the boys have to win.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/Dan/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot.png" alt="" /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/Dan/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-1.png" alt="" /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/Dan/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-2.png" alt="" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After our game I made everyone go to the store with me.  It was a definite success.  I got two bottles of Soft Scrub Total for .19 cents.  Awesome huh?  I was pretty excited.  Dan just laughed at me, but he thinks it's pretty cool too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-8114623223682407977?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8114623223682407977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=8114623223682407977&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/8114623223682407977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/8114623223682407977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2011/03/family-home-evening.html' title='Family Home Evening'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-2152454469708432483</id><published>2011-03-16T22:09:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2011-03-16T22:21:01.278-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Join the masses</title><content type='html'>Well, Dan and I did it.  We joined a gym.  Dan's been talking about it for a long time, and I've been meaning to get him a membership for birthday's or Christmases or whatever but they are just so expensive and I have doubts as to our commitment and since most gyms require commitment and booku bucks, I haven't done anything about it.  But this new gym came to town and it was pretty cheap and you don't have to pay to cancel.  Awesome.  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-a-x2KZWVNDo/TYGJ61gReJI/AAAAAAAABTs/odxIDFG8fGQ/s1600/logo.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 177px; height: 191px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-a-x2KZWVNDo/TYGJ61gReJI/AAAAAAAABTs/odxIDFG8fGQ/s320/logo.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5584896656803985554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;When I was up visiting my family for my dad's birthday (HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAD!) I told them that we'd joined.  My dad asked if I wanted to go to his gym with him the next day.  Sure, why not.  Whew...It was definitely eye opening for me....my 63 year old father ran me to the ground.  That man is a machine!  I was huffing and puffing and he's just going along patiently at my pace.  It was fun to go with him though, and it helped that I knew a little more of what to expect.  Did you know you clean off a machine after you use it?  Don't laugh...I'm sure it was obvious to most people, but we didn't clean off the machines in college when we worked out.  Anyway, because of going with my Dad, I learned that it's the thing to do.&lt;br /&gt;Dan and I can't go at the same time to the gym because there isn't child care there (and I'm not sure if I would use it if there was).  Plus, Dan likes to work out in the morning.  Not being a morning person, this isn't a good option for me.  Unless 9 am counts as working out in the morning :)  So, Dan goes before work and I go after dinner.  I went for the first time tonight.  Other than being lonely it was pretty fun...well as much fun as working out can be.  Hopefully we will stick with this and get in shape.  I'm still waiting for baby #4 fat to disappear.  Here's hoping.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-2152454469708432483?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/2152454469708432483/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=2152454469708432483&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/2152454469708432483'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/2152454469708432483'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2011/03/join-masses.html' title='Join the masses'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-a-x2KZWVNDo/TYGJ61gReJI/AAAAAAAABTs/odxIDFG8fGQ/s72-c/logo.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-4941011103676906640</id><published>2011-03-16T21:43:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2011-03-16T22:08:12.464-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Documentation</title><content type='html'>Big day in the Johnson household tonight.  No, not really, but I feel like I should document this.  Seriously, this doesn't need to be read, it's only for documentation sake.&lt;br /&gt;So, it had been a long day.  I had taken all four kids to the store (2 of them...and the library) and it took a long time, but they were really really helpful.  They helped put the groceries away and everything (this has nothing to do with the story, but aren't they cute kids?).  Anyway, I promised them that they could watch a movie after dinner for being so helpful, and during all the chaos of putting the groceries away Cole said he needed to poop.  Huh.  Weird comment, but going with the flow I asked him if he wanted to poop on the potty.  I take him in the bathroom and sit him on the toilet and he freaks out (doesn't want to fall in, you know).  So I get out the little potty and he tries that....but that doesn't last long at all.  Probably because I just told him to sit there until he finished his sucker (don't judge me, I know its gross).  After dinner the kids were getting pj's on and Cole told me that he needed to poop again.  I asked if he wanted to sit on the potty again, and he said yes and off he went.  I went to go start the movie, but Cole stopped me because he couldn't get his diaper off.  I helped with that and started the movie.  Cole gets really excited and tells me he pooped.  Honestly, I didn't believe him.  I thought he pooped in his diaper, but nope...he really pooped in the toilet all by himself, and I do mean all by himself.  So we get excited, show him the rest of everything, and he is sooooo proud of himself.  Dan asked me after when I started potty training.  I laughed and said I hadn't.  I'm not expecting this to last, and I'm not potty training, but I just thought I'd document this and say...not bad for a two and a half year old.   Not bad at all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-4941011103676906640?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4941011103676906640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=4941011103676906640&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/4941011103676906640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/4941011103676906640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2011/03/documentation.html' title='Documentation'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-4226846401525968410</id><published>2011-02-17T19:09:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2011-02-17T19:33:41.826-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Cole Funnies</title><content type='html'>Occasionally  it occurs to me that Cole doesn't know the basics.  Don't get me wrong,  he's one smart cookie (sometimes too smart for his own good...well, my  own sanity anyway), but I sometimes assume that because his older brother and sister know something, he does to.  Today I thought we should make sure that he did have the basics down.  So we pointed to different body parts and asked "What's this?"  You know, things like chin, neck, ears, etc.  I finally got to elbows and said, "What are these?"  Very promptly he replied, "Bumps!"  Well, yes...they are that.  I laughed a bit and we moved on.  We got to fingers and asked the same question.  "What are these?"  "NUMBERS!"  He was very sure, and very excited about that one.  As near as I can figure out, he said numbers because he watches the older kids all the time, and that is how Kember does he math homework, and Caden counts different things.  Or even if I ask Cole, "How many are there?"  He uses his fingers to point and count.  So, sure.... they can be numbers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are just random, but they made me smile.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pOT8-vBGjtU/TV3VeBaapdI/AAAAAAAABTc/IQ5-kvCm9mk/s1600/DSCN1774.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pOT8-vBGjtU/TV3VeBaapdI/AAAAAAAABTc/IQ5-kvCm9mk/s320/DSCN1774.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574846625506567634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Unfortunately, he looks like this a lot.  Not the smile, that's isn't unfortunate at all...I love it, but the messy face.  It's a near constant thing.  Even right after I wipe his face off it somehow gets dirty again five minutes later.  I'm not sure if he found something else to munch on or what, but it's dirty again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CHHSynRR8K4/TV3Vd-gNIVI/AAAAAAAABTU/4IDnLpMsZng/s1600/DSCN1765.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CHHSynRR8K4/TV3Vd-gNIVI/AAAAAAAABTU/4IDnLpMsZng/s320/DSCN1765.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574846624725541202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--dqe6q3Riio/TV3Vda_9RII/AAAAAAAABTM/Xex22S5kSuA/s1600/DSCN1758.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--dqe6q3Riio/TV3Vda_9RII/AAAAAAAABTM/Xex22S5kSuA/s320/DSCN1758.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574846615195042946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Did I mention that when he is happy he does a skippy/hoppy thing when he walks?  He also sings the cutest version of Jingle Bells I've ever heard.  I was trying to figure out how to transcribe it, but couldn't.  You'll just have to trust me...or ask him to sing it for you.  However, "Bob the Builder" is probably his favorite song of all time (I have no idea what Kember's is, but Caden's is I Am A Child of God).  I think it's funny that this is his favorite song since we've only ever watched good ol' Bob maybe three times from movies we've check out from the library.  But multiple times during the day you can hear Cole loudly singing, "Bob the builder...Can we fix it?  Yes we can!  I think so!"  and yes, the "I think so" is the cutest part of the song.  Today he and Caden got out their tools and went around the house "fixing" everything.  Cole came up to me and told me that I was broken so he had to fix me.  He got out his ratchet and went to work.  Then he went to fix the baby.  Somewhere along the way his tools got transformed into his guns so he can "shoot the monsters".  Really not sure where that comes from.  I'm assuming it's just a boy thing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This has nothing to do with Cole, but thought I'd bring it up anyway.  Kember has taught herself how to ride a two wheel bike.  I helped her one afternoon for maybe twenty minutes and today she's riding around the neighborhood.  I think it's really funny that one-she taught herself, and two- the bike she can do it on is way to small for her.  I had Dan take the training wheels off her bike that fits her, but she can't/won't do it on that one.  Ah well..  Maybe she just likes her knees up to her ears.  But really, don't you think it would be easier with a bigger bike?  Whatever.  Did I also mention that she basically taught herself to tie her shoes too?  I showed her how to do it once (yep, that's all...once) and ever since then she loves to tie the bows on dresses, her brothers shoes, etc.  She is just a little sponge, and super quick if she wants to learn something.  If she doesn't...boy is she like her mommy...it will not happen. :)&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Wk17HFFpkJQ/TV3ZKPHCrWI/AAAAAAAABTk/nNRiVfXM25Q/s1600/P1030189.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Wk17HFFpkJQ/TV3ZKPHCrWI/AAAAAAAABTk/nNRiVfXM25Q/s320/P1030189.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574850683632528738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I have another post in mind for Caden, but I want pictures to go with it, so it will have to wait.  Don't worry though, he isn't forgotten.  He's my sweetheart.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-4226846401525968410?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4226846401525968410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=4226846401525968410&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/4226846401525968410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/4226846401525968410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2011/02/cole-funnies.html' title='Cole Funnies'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pOT8-vBGjtU/TV3VeBaapdI/AAAAAAAABTc/IQ5-kvCm9mk/s72-c/DSCN1774.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-4036376995722800095</id><published>2011-02-10T20:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-02-10T20:04:37.403-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Year of the Rabbit</title><content type='html'>I hope you are all enjoying this year of the Rabbit.  Dan and I thought it would be fun to celebrate the Chinese New Year on the 3rd of this month.  These are the invites I sent out (with stuff blacked out...of course)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TVBBKIE7q1I/AAAAAAAABS8/yOi2KvaHMLc/s1600/chinese%2Bnew%2Byear%2Bcopy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TVBBKIE7q1I/AAAAAAAABS8/yOi2KvaHMLc/s320/chinese%2Bnew%2Byear%2Bcopy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571024381279972178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It was a lot of fun.  Dan made coconut shrimp (which I don't know if it was good or not because I didn't eat any) and I made orange chicken.  Dan also made fried rice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OVMScauZyfg/TVQQjTXLcwI/AAAAAAAABTE/n3ID3OC-J2c/s1600/DSCF3762.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OVMScauZyfg/TVQQjTXLcwI/AAAAAAAABTE/n3ID3OC-J2c/s320/DSCF3762.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5572096837643105026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here are some of our friends that came.  The ones I got a picture of anyway.  Like my little lanterns in the background?  A little cheesy, but there you have it.  We ate with chopsticks, wore red and/or gold for luck and opened our fortune cookies that I had fun making.  They didn't work out so well, but they were fun to try to make.  Then we went downstairs and as a joke I suggested we play Dance Dance Revolution.  And that is what we ended up playing.  It was really funny to watch everyone play it.  Dan and I discovered that according to our astrology we aren 't compatible.  I'm a boar and I'm not really compatible with many other types.&lt;br /&gt;It was a lot of fun, and I hope we make a tradition of celebrating the Chinese New Year every year.  Maybe next time it would be more authentic, but for this time it was a lot of fun.  Any excuse to party, eh?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-4036376995722800095?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4036376995722800095/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=4036376995722800095&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/4036376995722800095'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/4036376995722800095'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2011/02/year-of-rabbit.html' title='The Year of the Rabbit'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TVBBKIE7q1I/AAAAAAAABS8/yOi2KvaHMLc/s72-c/chinese%2Bnew%2Byear%2Bcopy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-1628933418151110020</id><published>2011-02-07T01:30:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2011-02-07T02:15:20.843-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Remember when?  Good times...good times.</title><content type='html'>So the other day I was listening to the RS Broadcast from back in  September (It was really good by the way).  I loved Sis. Thompson talk  on Visiting Teaching...because, let's face it...I'm  not a great  Visiting Teacher, but I yearn to be.  I think if it is done right it is a  powerful program.  I just have yet to do it right.  Case in point: I  called one of my girls to see if we could visit her.  She paused for  just a second and said, "Um, I live in Vernal now."  OK...sure didn't  see that one coming.  Ya, completely missed it.  She went on to say that  she didn't want to bother me with helping with the move because I had  just had a baby (which I had had a month prior...so not recently).  I  found it extremely ironic that she was trying to make me feel better for  being such a bad VTer.  But that wasn't the point of this blog.  I also  really liked Pres. Monson's talk about not judging people.  But again,  not the point of this blog (although you should really listen/read the  talks if you haven't yet, or can't remember them...they are good).  My  favorite part about listening to these again (and yes, it is the point  of this blog) is that I remembered I was there.  We had a girls weekend  with my mom and sisters/in law.  It was awesome!  It was so good that  even though it was months and months and months ago....I'm going to post  pictures because they make me happy.  I don't know why I didn't blog  about this sooner.  Oh, wait yes I do, but we won't go into that because  that isn't the point of this post.  So...onward and upward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weekend started out at Andrea's house.   There we all made friends with Mr. Mantis.  He was especially friendly to mom, as he climbed up her leg.  He wasn't very friendly with Andrea, but seeing as how she stepped on him (on accident) you really can't blame him.  He posed very nicely for Rorie to get some random shots of him, and well, I stayed away because he's a bug, and well...that says it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TU8JMqArm4I/AAAAAAAABSw/KZKIeYgWCK4/s1600/DSC_8544.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TU8JMqArm4I/AAAAAAAABSw/KZKIeYgWCK4/s320/DSC_8544.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5570681377120820098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We drove to Salt Lake and went to the movie Sorcerer's Apprentice.  I seriously love this movie, and it was fun to watch it with my mom.  She has ways of showing her true enjoyment of movies.  Then we went to The Training Table to eat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TU8JMBuZETI/AAAAAAAABSo/KBjGwMXoz1Y/s1600/DSC_8548.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TU8JMBuZETI/AAAAAAAABSo/KBjGwMXoz1Y/s320/DSC_8548.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5570681366306689330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TU8JLRGXKlI/AAAAAAAABSg/UvCbScU_vIg/s1600/DSC_8546.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TU8JLRGXKlI/AAAAAAAABSg/UvCbScU_vIg/s320/DSC_8546.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5570681353253890642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I was less than impressed, but again, with good company who really cares, right?  Food is food and that's about all that can be said of ours.&lt;br /&gt;Then the real fun began.  I convinced everyone that we needed to stop at Shopko and buy fake eyelashes because we were going to practice putting on "Bedroom eyes".  Hehehe...it probably wouldn't have been so fun/funny, but let's look at who is trying to do makeup...oh, that's right the Linford girls.  So it was pretty funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TU8Iayla9yI/AAAAAAAABSY/5qevgNU1Qbw/s1600/DSC_8631.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TU8Iayla9yI/AAAAAAAABSY/5qevgNU1Qbw/s320/DSC_8631.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5570680520428943138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here is Andrea giving a sultry look in her PJ's.  She looks great right?  Look close at her eyelashes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TU8IZbP-bLI/AAAAAAAABSI/brT_c3xVoTU/s1600/DSC_8625.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TU8IZbP-bLI/AAAAAAAABSI/brT_c3xVoTU/s320/DSC_8625.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5570680496985107634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here's Rorie modeling it up.  Seriously, she has the look.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TU8IZ5oUJvI/AAAAAAAABSQ/gBa75x26dsI/s1600/DSC_8627.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TU8IZ5oUJvI/AAAAAAAABSQ/gBa75x26dsI/s320/DSC_8627.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5570680505140258546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Me, not so much....but I'm happy about it :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TU8HHAO0d8I/AAAAAAAABRw/uqAvAw2cPkE/s1600/DSC_8555.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TU8HHAO0d8I/AAAAAAAABRw/uqAvAw2cPkE/s320/DSC_8555.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5570679080983230402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Fake eyelashes are not for the faint of heart.  However, they are really fun to do, and if done correctly they do look really good to.  We also tried to do smokey eyes with eyeshadow, but...that didn't work.  It just looked like eye shadow.   But hot sexy eyeshadow because of super long eyelashes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TUyWuahRzcI/AAAAAAAABRo/1PViK2nPMKE/s1600/DSC_8550.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TUyWuahRzcI/AAAAAAAABRo/1PViK2nPMKE/s320/DSC_8550.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569992563287510466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Well, as sexy as you can get being as pregnant as I was and in pajamas.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TU8HHu66kcI/AAAAAAAABR4/1gn5EQNHpYs/s1600/DSC_8575.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TU8HHu66kcI/AAAAAAAABR4/1gn5EQNHpYs/s320/DSC_8575.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5570679093516210626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;See....how awesome is that, and I doubt we put them on right.  My mom looks good, eh?&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TU8IY31rR6I/AAAAAAAABSA/j8CoicVzTnM/s1600/DSC_8603.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TU8IY31rR6I/AAAAAAAABSA/j8CoicVzTnM/s320/DSC_8603.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5570680487479560098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Then, since it was so late we decided to practice hair flipping.  It's a good skill to learn.  Mom has it down.  I didn't post pictures of me doing it because I do not have it down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day was more serious, but fun as well.  We walked around downtown Salt Lake (well, I waddled and everyone waited for me) and took in some sites.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TUyRET2xmMI/AAAAAAAABRQ/QhwMZLqN_L8/s1600/DSC_8644.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TUyRET2xmMI/AAAAAAAABRQ/QhwMZLqN_L8/s320/DSC_8644.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569986342385981634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The Church History Museum is always great to visit.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TUyRFfe3VbI/AAAAAAAABRg/aiR7jkhna4k/s1600/DSCN1451.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TUyRFfe3VbI/AAAAAAAABRg/aiR7jkhna4k/s320/DSCN1451.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569986362686789042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I'm trying to lift the golden plates...they are heavy.  I'm not strong.  Laughter ensued.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TUyRExteZOI/AAAAAAAABRY/p99Qn41OmXU/s1600/DSC_8649.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TUyRExteZOI/AAAAAAAABRY/p99Qn41OmXU/s320/DSC_8649.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569986350400038114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My mom is awesome.   What 57 year old do you know that does tricks down the escalator?  See, awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TUyQK7yiKzI/AAAAAAAABRI/kM_nkZTYnDs/s1600/DSCN0665.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TUyQK7yiKzI/AAAAAAAABRI/kM_nkZTYnDs/s320/DSCN0665.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569985356673198898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We met up with Michelle after the museum and went to lunch at Olive Garden.  Much much better than The Training Table (however over priced it may be).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TUyP4EfWQxI/AAAAAAAABRA/JGeYCexPUpU/s1600/DSC_8671.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TUyP4EfWQxI/AAAAAAAABRA/JGeYCexPUpU/s320/DSC_8671.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569985032591131410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We had some free museum passes and we chose to go to this one.  I can't remember what it was called, but it was up by the U of U and was a war museum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TUyP3i2oLnI/AAAAAAAABQ4/mX5l0XMfKGo/s1600/DSCN1455.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TUyP3i2oLnI/AAAAAAAABQ4/mX5l0XMfKGo/s320/DSCN1455.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569985023561969266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Then we went back to the hotel and got ready for conference.  We were going to walk to the Conference Center, but we'd never make it on time with me waddling.  So, half of us got dropped off, and the other (faster cause I wasn't with them) half parked and walked back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TUyPMpJb1sI/AAAAAAAABQw/sWSH0Rl7Xdk/s1600/DSC_8678.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TUyPMpJb1sI/AAAAAAAABQw/sWSH0Rl7Xdk/s320/DSC_8678.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569984286517089986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It was a great session.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TUyOyPq6LNI/AAAAAAAABQY/r8ujthbUALs/s1600/DSC_8689.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TUyOyPq6LNI/AAAAAAAABQY/r8ujthbUALs/s320/DSC_8689.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569983833001569490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TUyOyq4S0bI/AAAAAAAABQg/HVOWQzkcirQ/s1600/DSCN1456.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TUyOyq4S0bI/AAAAAAAABQg/HVOWQzkcirQ/s320/DSCN1456.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569983840305467826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;More night time silliness.  Really, my mom's the best.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TUyOzJUvmkI/AAAAAAAABQo/H7m_6Q2ovRM/s1600/DSCN1459.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TUyOzJUvmkI/AAAAAAAABQo/H7m_6Q2ovRM/s320/DSCN1459.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5569983848477858370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is the next morning.  Rorie had to make it back to church (pressures of being Primary President you know) so the two of us left and my mom and Andrea went to Music and the Spoken Word.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a lot of fun.  I truly love hanging out with these wonderful girls.  I can't wait to do it again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and just in case you are wondering, Dan liked the eyelashes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-1628933418151110020?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1628933418151110020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=1628933418151110020&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/1628933418151110020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/1628933418151110020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2011/02/remember-when-good-timesgood-times.html' title='Remember when?  Good times...good times.'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TU8JMqArm4I/AAAAAAAABSw/KZKIeYgWCK4/s72-c/DSC_8544.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-5952993162377721895</id><published>2011-01-30T21:36:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-30T21:48:16.007-07:00</updated><title type='text'>More things of note</title><content type='html'>Well, things of note for me...not really for anyone else.  First, yesterday was the first time Kember took a real shower (meaning not for swimming).  This may not seem like a big deal, but my kids aren't so great in water.  But she loved it!  She was so excited about it that she wanted to tell Caden all about it and asked if he could take one.  I think we will wait on that.  Caden is even worse than Kember with getting water in his face.  Let me tell you how much fun bathtime is at our house (can you hear the sarcasm?).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is a song that Caden made up today.  I thought it was sweet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Be nice and be good.&lt;br /&gt;Don't drink coffee.&lt;br /&gt;Be nice everyday.&lt;br /&gt;Don't hit, don't drink coffee.&lt;br /&gt;Eat good food."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Clever eh?  Hopefully he remembers all of his good advice and follows it :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we got out of church today Kember excitedly told me that they learned about Joseph Smith (and the story of him getting surgery on his leg).  Caden told me that they learned that when they were having troubles that they needed to pray.  I was feeling very good about this and so I asked Cole what he learned about.  He got a big smile on his face and said, "Basketball!"  Huh...guess that nursery lesson didn't sink in.  I was actually just really proud of Kember for remembering and telling me.  Normally when I ask her what she learns about whether in school or church her answer is, "I don't remember".  Which is frustrating because I ask her right after....but she was very talkative today and I loved it.  Caden volunteered to give the Family Home Evening lesson tomorrow, so we will see how that goes.  Good times in the Johnson household.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&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/5153889254659000552-5952993162377721895?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5952993162377721895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=5952993162377721895&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/5952993162377721895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/5952993162377721895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2011/01/more-things-of-note.html' title='More things of note'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-5575973636087010402</id><published>2011-01-29T22:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-29T23:00:25.192-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What a day</title><content type='html'>For a long time I've been hoping for a Saturday where we spend all day doing projects that need to be done around the house.  Of course, come Saturday I've lost all motivation to do such project, and every other Saturday Dan is on call....like he was today.  So imagine my surprise when he got everyone up and going and we decided to paint.  You have to understand that both Dan and I hate painting with a passion.  This is why we have lived in our house now for almost two years and there is painting that still needs to be done.  But today we painted the basement.  It took quite awhile because the gallon of paint got spilled, Dan got called out, and the kids kept wanting to help.  But, we got 'er done....well, the living room basement anyway.  We were originally going to do the stairs too, but boy..that will have to be some other weekend.  Any volunteers?   Oh, and then after all the painting and cleaning up the painting (which Dan did most of) he said that we should have a movie night with the kids.  So, we kept them up past bedtime to watch a movie together as a family.  The kids were really excited to eat popcorn.  Anyway, we got lots done today and it feels great.  But the best part was working with Dan...and laughing over the spilled paint and making our house look nicer.  Good times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*No, I didn't take a picture of the finished product, and I probably won't either.  You will just have to visit if you want to see it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-5575973636087010402?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5575973636087010402/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=5575973636087010402&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/5575973636087010402'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/5575973636087010402'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2011/01/what-day.html' title='What a day'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-240786670009825921</id><published>2011-01-29T22:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-29T22:51:09.127-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Caden's birthday round two</title><content type='html'>Well, the day of Caden's friend birthday party arrived last Saturday, and can you believe I didn't take any pictures?  Ya, I can't believe it either.  Caden wanted to have a dinosaur party, which was all fine and dandy except he doesn't really have any friends.  He plays with his sisters friends, and most of them are girls, so...what to do...what to do?  So, we invited all the sunbeams.  I hadn't met most of them, but looking back, when we first moved here we didn't know anyone for Kember's party either, and that is what we did for her party.  So, eleven little kids running around my house later, we dug for dinosaurs bones, had relay races, sat on balloons to make them pop (this was Caden's favorite game because he raced against his cousin Joey and he beat him.  Beating people is really important to Caden for some reason that I haven't figured out yet.  And Rorie, just in case you read this, Joey wasn't trying, but don't tell Caden.  We hatched dinosaurs out of their eggs.  This was my favorite activity.  I cooked up some playdough, but toy dinosaurs in the middle and shaped them into an egg and cooked them in the oven.  Dan made tiny wooden hammers for the kids to break open the eggs with.  It was fun.  Crazy, hectic, but fun.  I made the mistake of asking, "Who wants to go open presents!" when it was time to open gifts.  It was a mistake because saying it that way because all the kids thought they all got to open gifts.  Oops.  Well, lesson learned there.  I was so nervous for his party, which was funny because I had actually prepared ahead of time.  I know, amazing right?  But I think the kids had fun.  Caden is already talking about his party next year.  So, bring on the birthday fun.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-240786670009825921?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/240786670009825921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=240786670009825921&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/240786670009825921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/240786670009825921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2011/01/cadens-birthday-round-two.html' title='Caden&apos;s birthday round two'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-8682452957066913057</id><published>2011-01-29T21:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-29T22:09:22.121-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chickens round two!</title><content type='html'>Yep, we did it.  We got chickens again (Well, Scott and Carol Lee got us chickens again). Except we got four this time.  They are kind of sad looking chickens.  They were really beat up, and they are really skittish.  I mean, I know chickens don't really like people, but these are extremely skittish.  They seem to like all the bugs in my yard though.  I'm all for that.  I wonder if I will still like them when I plant my garden.  Did I mention it was around 60 degrees today?  Yeah, got to love St. George winters.&lt;br /&gt;I figured with four chickens we'd have eggs up to our ears.  Well, not so much.  We don't get eggs...any.  I'm not sure what happened.  We got eggs at the beginning (and some were blue...those were fun)...and then...nothing.  Dan brought home some oyster pellets to give the chickens extra calcium, but still nothing.  Ah well.  What can you do?  They are getting fatter by the day though, so they are at least looking better.  The kids named them superhero, whitey (yep, it's white), sword, and omelet (that was Dan's contribution to the naming).  Great chicken names eh?  I was kind of hoping the kids would be a little better than me on the naming issue, but apparently not.&lt;br /&gt;So chickens...at least they eat bugs right?  Who needs eggs anyway?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-8682452957066913057?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8682452957066913057/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=8682452957066913057&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/8682452957066913057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/8682452957066913057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2011/01/chickens-round-two.html' title='Chickens round two!'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-7352221947277782722</id><published>2011-01-17T14:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-17T15:03:33.689-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Not my little man any more!</title><content type='html'>Well, it's happening.  Caden is growing up.   How dare he?!  He just celebrated his 4th birthday on Saturday.  He's been so excited for his birthday and would ask every day if it was his birthday yet.  I wanted to make it a special day so I asked him this night before what he wanted to do the next day.  His list went like this:&lt;br /&gt;-play boxing on the wii with daddy.                Check.  Although, he lost to grandma first and was quite upset by this fact.  I will also attribute this to the fact that he was soooooo tired.&lt;br /&gt;-make his birthday cake.                                      Sort of check.  I went to make it but he was doing something else on his list and he decided he didn't want to help.  But he ate it, and I guess that was the important part.&lt;br /&gt;-Watch Dr. Seuss.                                                  Check.  Dan rented this movie from Red Box.  I'm not sure how many times they watched it, but they started it at least three times.&lt;br /&gt;-Eat at Pirate Island Pizza.                                  Check.  We did and the kids had fun, but I'm not sure I'll be going back.  We waited FOREVER for our food and they didn't bring everything they were supposed to until we reminded them and then had to wait forever again, and my glass was dirty (and I'm not a picky person, but this was gross).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, it doesn't sound like much to me, but that is what Caden wanted to do, so that's what we did.  He also wanted Mac and Cheese for dinner.  Everyone else had hamburgers.  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TTS3Lg2zmTI/AAAAAAAABP0/Bbr_9WDe2Os/s1600/DSCN1751.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TTS3Lg2zmTI/AAAAAAAABP0/Bbr_9WDe2Os/s320/DSCN1751.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5563272848135657778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I think he wanted to go here because of Kember.  She went to a birthday party here and enjoyed it.  When we walked in it was pretty dark and he was scared for a little bit, but soon had a lot of fun.  He was thrilled to be able to wear the green jogging suit from Grandma and Grandpa J.  He really enjoyed it when Grandma took him around to play the games and he got to pick some candy for his prizes.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TTS3wYQrh8I/AAAAAAAABP8/VrSjg2lWMw4/s1600/DSCN1772.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TTS3wYQrh8I/AAAAAAAABP8/VrSjg2lWMw4/s320/DSCN1772.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5563273481483421634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TTS3w365KaI/AAAAAAAABQE/oZ-YvT7Pbls/s1600/DSCN1775.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TTS3w365KaI/AAAAAAAABQE/oZ-YvT7Pbls/s320/DSCN1775.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5563273489981974946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We didn't have much of a "party" because he's having a friend party on Saturday (if you are reading this and you live close by, and you have a child around Caden's age...consider yourself invited.  I'm trying to get the invites out, but my printer is jammed and I'm having issues), and because the present that we got for him still isn't here yet.  I ordered it online and thought for sure it would be here, but nope...we're still waiting.  He's okay with it though, and didn't ask at all to open anything.  Kember did.  She wanted to know what we were waiting for.  For his cake he wanted a volcano cake.  If you've read my blog for a while you know I enjoy (mostly) making a fun cake for the kids.  I didn't think this one was going to be so hard, and I already had a pattern...didn't even have to search it out on the internet.  Well, lets just say that it flopped, and it flopped hard.  So no picture, no documentation.  It's better this way....trust me.  I didn't even finish it it was so bad.  But everyone still ate it.  I'll try again for his party on Saturday, and maybe I'll post a picture if it turns out any better (which shouldn't be hard because it didn't turn out at all).  So, I asked him if he had a good day and he said he did.  He was happy that Grandma and Grandpa Johnson came down to visit him.&lt;br /&gt;I had a whole long list I was going to write about Caden, but sitting here I think all of his best qualities can be best summed up by saying that he's a sweetheart.  Caden is the person I go to when I need a hug.  He's the first to comfort me if I'm sad, or if I'm upset.  I've never met anyone so tenderhearted.  He just wants to help and be loved.  And I couldn't ask for anything more.  I love you buddy!  I hope you have a great 4th year.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-7352221947277782722?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7352221947277782722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=7352221947277782722&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/7352221947277782722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/7352221947277782722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2011/01/not-my-little-man-any-more.html' title='Not my little man any more!'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TTS3Lg2zmTI/AAAAAAAABP0/Bbr_9WDe2Os/s72-c/DSCN1751.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-639682296571445713</id><published>2011-01-13T21:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-13T22:49:36.929-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Whoops, back up</title><content type='html'>So I was sitting here reading other peoples blogs, and lamenting the fact that I had nothing to blog about.  Let's face it, my life isn't really all that exciting.  And then it hit me...I haven't blogged about Christmas yet!  Wahoo. So, here we go.&lt;br /&gt;Dan was able to get work off so we headed to Aurora on Thursday for the Johnson's Annual Hawaii Party!  (One of our friends had a Christmas party and Dan and I thought it would be cool to dress up in Hawaii clothes because of the Hawaii Party...unfortunately no one else thought it was cool..or funny..but what can you do?). &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TS_UzyUM8lI/AAAAAAAABNU/-VAzSVtTX24/s1600/DSCN1712.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TS_UzyUM8lI/AAAAAAAABNU/-VAzSVtTX24/s320/DSCN1712.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561898050970776146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We missed a lot of the cousins because not everyone was able to be there, but it was fun to see everyone who could come, and of course, it's always great fun to sacrifice a pineapple.  Can't miss out on that can we?  Instead of playing games like we usually do we asked grandma and grandpa questions.  It was fun to hear about their youth and their memories.  That same night we headed for Midway.&lt;br /&gt;Christmas Eve morning I had some high school friends come over to mom and dads house to just catch up.  A lot of people couldn't come, but it was good to see those who could come. Thanks guys for making the effort!&lt;br /&gt;Christmas Eve was  a lot of fun for me.  My mom decided that dinner was going to be made by divvying out each dish to different teams.  I was on a team with Cameron and Matt (the cheaters) and the other team was Dan, Andrea, and Dad.  Cameron and Matt promptly went to the store to buy the rolls, and left me at home to make the salad.  They came back and threw together some concoction that we baked, but it was good they bought the rolls.  Dan was amazing and made cheesecake but put it in the skins of those li'l cuties.  He's a keeper, what can&lt;br /&gt;I say? &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TS_XwC-aK4I/AAAAAAAABNk/0GHi7ZOWu-I/s1600/DSCN0781.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TS_XwC-aK4I/AAAAAAAABNk/0GHi7ZOWu-I/s320/DSCN0781.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561901285258177410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It was fun, but the kitchen was sure crowded.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TS_W6Q61n6I/AAAAAAAABNc/-JHCZ0rt33U/s1600/DSCN0779.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TS_W6Q61n6I/AAAAAAAABNc/-JHCZ0rt33U/s320/DSCN0779.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561900361288359842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;While we cooked, mom took the kids and had them make marshmallow snowmen and decorate cookies.  Cole basically gorged himself on the frosting, but he had fun.  Caden was sooo proud of his snowmen.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TS_XwStqtjI/AAAAAAAABNs/Sk8Xxuk4QU0/s1600/DSCN0788.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TS_XwStqtjI/AAAAAAAABNs/Sk8Xxuk4QU0/s320/DSCN0788.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561901289482925618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TS_XwwYzAtI/AAAAAAAABN0/7vU87HRFuYs/s1600/DSCN1715.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TS_XwwYzAtI/AAAAAAAABN0/7vU87HRFuYs/s320/DSCN1715.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561901297448452818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TS_YXGR2fhI/AAAAAAAABN8/Tg5L2j1FIj4/s1600/DSCN1716.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TS_YXGR2fhI/AAAAAAAABN8/Tg5L2j1FIj4/s320/DSCN1716.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561901956159929874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TS_YXdyX26I/AAAAAAAABOE/AAPMXmFYj6c/s1600/DSCN1719.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TS_YXdyX26I/AAAAAAAABOE/AAPMXmFYj6c/s320/DSCN1719.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561901962470349730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Then we had the kids do the traditional Nativity story.  I was pretty bummed we didn't make a nativity like we do every year out of random material, but it wouldn't have worked so well this time with everything else that was going on.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TS_abjLhsWI/AAAAAAAABOk/TeNoX75t8lc/s1600/DSCN0860.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TS_abjLhsWI/AAAAAAAABOk/TeNoX75t8lc/s320/DSCN0860.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561904231660761442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TS_ZgScPhAI/AAAAAAAABOM/46IUviEUsDU/s1600/DSCN1723.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TS_ZgScPhAI/AAAAAAAABOM/46IUviEUsDU/s320/DSCN1723.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561903213555188738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Isn't he cute?  I think he was being a shepherd.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TS_ZggldMEI/AAAAAAAABOU/qCIULAm0i6s/s1600/DSCN1726.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TS_ZggldMEI/AAAAAAAABOU/qCIULAm0i6s/s320/DSCN1726.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561903217351929922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;You're right....he doesn't look happy.  He wasn't.  He didn't want to dress-up, he didn't want to participate, and being the great parents that we are...we made him.  He ended up liking it though, and even got really concerned when his wise man turban thingy kept falling off.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TS_Zg--vFHI/AAAAAAAABOc/Ki1kkkZYuwM/s1600/DSCN0861.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TS_Zg--vFHI/AAAAAAAABOc/Ki1kkkZYuwM/s320/DSCN0861.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561903225511023730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is my favorite picture of the whole night.  Kember is such a sweet heart.  She was so excited to be Mary.  No one told her to do this, or pose with the baby at all.  She just went over there and luckily someone got it on camera.  She loves Milee.  She wants to help dress her, change her diaper, hold her, etc.  She has all those loving tender mother instincts that somehow skipped coming to me.  But at least she'll be a great mom, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the nativity we played some really fun Minute to Win it games.  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TS_bJJZlmKI/AAAAAAAABOs/A_QCADLTej4/s1600/DSCN0836.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TS_bJJZlmKI/AAAAAAAABOs/A_QCADLTej4/s320/DSCN0836.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561905015014398114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TS_bJaLPGZI/AAAAAAAABO0/ZSC6Y3lPi5E/s1600/DSCN0840.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TS_bJaLPGZI/AAAAAAAABO0/ZSC6Y3lPi5E/s320/DSCN0840.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561905019517606290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TS_bJzOU8SI/AAAAAAAABO8/33WIDVTmaos/s1600/DSCN0847.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TS_bJzOU8SI/AAAAAAAABO8/33WIDVTmaos/s320/DSCN0847.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561905026241458466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;That was it for Christmas Eve.  Christmas morning we were heading back to Aurora so we had to get everyone up early.  We told the kids that Santa knew we were going to be busy so he left everything at the other grandparents house for us...but he knew we would have time to open stockings here.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TS_bmk1D1ZI/AAAAAAAABPE/FBsvtAeGxK4/s1600/DSCN1727.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TS_bmk1D1ZI/AAAAAAAABPE/FBsvtAeGxK4/s320/DSCN1727.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561905520593589650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Seriously, isn't he the cutest kid ever?  Look at that smile!  He was so excited...and it was just a candy cane filled with M&amp;amp;M's.  This Christmas was fun for me because the kids were understanding it a lot more so it was more magical.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TS_bnM7wphI/AAAAAAAABPM/94dsJyNennw/s1600/DSCN1733.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TS_bnM7wphI/AAAAAAAABPM/94dsJyNennw/s320/DSCN1733.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561905531359110674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Caden was so excited to start whacking stuff with his sword.  Cole played with him for a minute, but then decided he had better things to do, so Caden had daddy play with him.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TS_cJbvsEgI/AAAAAAAABPc/7UyK1ivSxhI/s1600/DSCN1736.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TS_cJbvsEgI/AAAAAAAABPc/7UyK1ivSxhI/s320/DSCN1736.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561906119450563074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TS_bnZJ01XI/AAAAAAAABPU/nqMZ5f0HtE0/s1600/DSCN1734.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TS_bnZJ01XI/AAAAAAAABPU/nqMZ5f0HtE0/s320/DSCN1734.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561905534639330674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Aren't these shirts the greatest?  Cameron had us for Christmas and he got everyone Utah Gymnastics shirts (and other U of U things for the kids).  He asked that we wear it to the Johnson breakfast that morning, and to tell him what everyone thought of them.  This was hilarious to me because the Johnson's are die hard BYU fans and one of the girls is actually a gymnast for BYU.   They were all good about it though.  So, we headed down to Aurora for the traditional Christmas Breakfast at Grandma Gayle's.  It was sooo yummy.  Then we headed over to Scott and Carol Lee's to finish/start opening presents.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TS_cJupPzII/AAAAAAAABPk/Tio1qt8vN_E/s1600/DSCN1742.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TS_cJupPzII/AAAAAAAABPk/Tio1qt8vN_E/s320/DSCN1742.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561906124523818114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I think my favorite thing was to see how excited the kids got to give presents to each other...and how excited they were to open something that came from their brother or sister.  It was fun to take the kids shopping for each other.  Caden knew exactly what he wanted to get people.  Kember knew exactly what she wanted before she went shopping, but I guess once shopping she got a little distracted by all the toys and kept want stuff for her.  Dan took the two oldest out separately to go shopping.  I took Cole and the rest of them to get stuff for Dan.  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TS_cKICg-jI/AAAAAAAABPs/u6TGXTUAqKA/s1600/DSCN1744.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TS_cKICg-jI/AAAAAAAABPs/u6TGXTUAqKA/s320/DSCN1744.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561906131340687922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yes, I know the picture is upside down, but it's more to document that Milee was there and celebrated her first Christmas.  She was held a whole bunch by all the Aunts and cousins, and then she slept the rest of the time.  So that was our Christmas.  It was a quick trip, but we wouldn't have changed anything (except for seeing more family...a lot couldn't come...maybe next year).  I know a lot of people look forward to just doing Christmas on their own, but Dan and I can't fathom not going "home" for Christmas.  Last year when we couldn't leave to see family until Christmas morning it just wasn't the same.  We like you guys.  Thanks for being such a wonderful family!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-639682296571445713?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/639682296571445713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=639682296571445713&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/639682296571445713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/639682296571445713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2011/01/whoops-back-up.html' title='Whoops, back up'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TS_UzyUM8lI/AAAAAAAABNU/-VAzSVtTX24/s72-c/DSCN1712.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-7463785203894862035</id><published>2011-01-06T12:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-01-06T12:24:08.815-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I've come to a decision</title><content type='html'>Well, two decisions actually.  The first, I've decided that I'm horrible at blogging and probably won't get any better.  I've learned to accept this..you should too (dad).  Second, and the reason for this post, I've decided that four kids is over my limit for outings to the store.  It's just too many to take at the ages they are.  Mind you, it is doable.  The baby obviously isn't any trouble...she sleeps in her car seat.  But lugging that thing around while I'm chasing Cole everywhere isn't on the top of my "Fun Things To Do" list.  The older kids, while they are loud and excited to see everything, are generally obedient and pretty good in a store.  Cole however is crazy.  And trying to coupon on top of that is just not something that I wish to do anymore.  Three kids at the store is my limit I've decided.  Three was not a problem.  Four, it's just not fun anymore and that is my final decision.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-7463785203894862035?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7463785203894862035/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=7463785203894862035&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/7463785203894862035'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/7463785203894862035'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2011/01/ive-come-to-decision.html' title='I&apos;ve come to a decision'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-1363117708584113534</id><published>2010-11-29T19:44:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-29T19:50:29.459-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Let the holidays begin!</title><content type='html'>Kember has been pestering me since Halloween to decorate.  I don't have any Halloween decorations (and it isn't my favorite holiday to decorate for since a lot of decorations tend to be on the disgusting side) or Thanksgiving decorations.  However, I do have a few Christmas ones, so the day after Thanksgiving we pulled out my box of decorations.  After doing what I had I decided to let the kids have fun decorating their own spaces.  So, my goal this month is to make lots of stuff with the kids that they can decorate with.  We will have a tree downstairs that will be theirs to decorate, and we'll make stuff for their rooms and walls and stuff.  So today we started by making handprint wreaths.  It was messy, but it was fun to do.  Especially since I was cranky for most of the day...it was fun to take a time out and just get messy with the kids.  Here are their creations.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TPRl2DMLKqI/AAAAAAAABM4/J3FZD-kMLrg/s1600/DSCN1695.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TPRl2DMLKqI/AAAAAAAABM4/J3FZD-kMLrg/s320/DSCN1695.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545169020443634338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TPRl2cnZGUI/AAAAAAAABNA/T7k1a5BmVbI/s1600/DSCN1696.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TPRl2cnZGUI/AAAAAAAABNA/T7k1a5BmVbI/s320/DSCN1696.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545169027268680002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TPRl228alxI/AAAAAAAABNI/QXjAqs0iGy4/s1600/DSCN1698.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TPRl228alxI/AAAAAAAABNI/QXjAqs0iGy4/s320/DSCN1698.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545169034336179986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;They were really excited to hang them on their door (don't let Caden's face fool you...he had a lot of fun, he just didn't like that I told him to smile normal instead of a really cheesy grin).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-1363117708584113534?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1363117708584113534/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=1363117708584113534&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/1363117708584113534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/1363117708584113534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2010/11/let-holidays-begin.html' title='Let the holidays begin!'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TPRl2DMLKqI/AAAAAAAABM4/J3FZD-kMLrg/s72-c/DSCN1695.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-899494478777581328</id><published>2010-11-27T19:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-27T20:14:42.182-07:00</updated><title type='text'>More Milee Picts.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TPHBuvzVgCI/AAAAAAAABMI/aeAHfko_yvk/s1600/DSCN1694.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TPHBuvzVgCI/AAAAAAAABMI/aeAHfko_yvk/s320/DSCN1694.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544425625119719458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is Grandma Carol Lee giving Milee a bath.  Milee doesn't like to be naked, so bath time is pretty traumatic for her.  However, when you get to her head or her feet, she loves that and just relaxes as you rub.  It's pretty funny to watch.  She doesn't like to be stretched out either.  So, getting dressed is also traumatic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TPHBuECrqiI/AAAAAAAABL4/S8o_jwJYXOI/s1600/DSCN1674.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TPHBuECrqiI/AAAAAAAABL4/S8o_jwJYXOI/s320/DSCN1674.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544425613372926498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't mind the fact that the flower is bigger than her head.  I realized it was a poor choice, but we don't have a lot of smaller options for head bands.  These are flowers that Kember and I share ;)  It's not a great picture, but I think the flower is funny, so I thought I'd share it with all of you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TPHBuVgVxHI/AAAAAAAABMA/3zmgNaL-J6U/s1600/DSCN1693.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TPHBuVgVxHI/AAAAAAAABMA/3zmgNaL-J6U/s320/DSCN1693.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544425618060723314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I love this next picture.   Thanks to Rorie who made the flower, and thanks to mom (and dad) for the cute outfit.  I think she looks adorable.  The grandparents say she looks like Caden and Kember (depending on which grandparent you talk to), but I personally think she looks like Cole did when he was a baby.  I'll have to get out pictures to compare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just some really quick things about Milee.  She sleeps exceptionally well for a newborn.  Some nights she will only wake up once.  The "bad nights" (knock on wood as I say this hoping it remains true) she will get up two or three times.  I think she's going through a growth spurt right now because I can't keep her awake for anything.  She had one or two days or wakefulness, and now she is just so sleepy.  She eats and sleeps, and for me, it has been wonderful.  Of course, all my help just left, so now things will probably be changing, but despite that, Heavenly Father has blessed us with a beautiful sleepy child, and we couldn't be more thankful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kember is very helpful, and loves her baby sister.  She will hand me diapers and wipes and constantly asks if she can pick out Milee's outfit or pj's for the day/night.  She keeps applying hand sanitizer in the hopes of holding Milee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Caden is indifferent.  He shows interest in holding her for a few minutes, and then is finished.  He will watch her while she sleeps and tries to rock her while she sits in her rocker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cole thinks "the baby" is pretty fun.  He is always trying to stick the binky in her mouth and will tell me when she cries.  He hasn't asked to hold her, and pretty much leaves her alone except for the binky and trying to rock her in her rocker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Alright, here are the comparisons.  What do you think?  Can you tell which baby is which?  They are all in order.  Who looks like who, if any of them do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TPHGDlSTSVI/AAAAAAAABMY/lTJFklpVqxY/s1600/Kember0722.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TPHGDlSTSVI/AAAAAAAABMY/lTJFklpVqxY/s200/Kember0722.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544430381120571730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TPHGp0nRs4I/AAAAAAAABMg/Euwoiqf2QZY/s1600/P1010067.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TPHGp0nRs4I/AAAAAAAABMg/Euwoiqf2QZY/s200/P1010067.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544431038070109058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TPHHJJMFZBI/AAAAAAAABMo/2EzN--OQcJE/s1600/Cole%2Bbirth%2BOct.%2B2008%2B012.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TPHHJJMFZBI/AAAAAAAABMo/2EzN--OQcJE/s200/Cole%2Bbirth%2BOct.%2B2008%2B012.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544431576169145362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TPHINuzwpzI/AAAAAAAABMw/IZEx5Zk8UaY/s1600/DSCN1666.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TPHINuzwpzI/AAAAAAAABMw/IZEx5Zk8UaY/s200/DSCN1666.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5544432754498774834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-899494478777581328?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/899494478777581328/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=899494478777581328&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/899494478777581328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/899494478777581328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2010/11/more-milee-picts.html' title='More Milee Picts.'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TPHBuvzVgCI/AAAAAAAABMI/aeAHfko_yvk/s72-c/DSCN1694.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-6115920350612317756</id><published>2010-11-17T19:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-17T19:28:26.671-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thankful #17 (although, technically 15)</title><content type='html'>So, I missed a couple days....but in my defense I did just have a baby.  And in my defense again, Dan did post on the day I had Milee, and obviously that is what I was thankful for that day.  So really I only missed one day, and that was due to the fact that bending over to get the lap top didn't seem at all appealing to me.  I'll live, and I know all three of you who read this will live too.  Today, I'm thankful to be home.  I was worried about coming home.  I'm not bouncing back with this c-section like I did with the others so coming home and being loved by my children worried me.  Getting into and out of bed worries me.  Going up and down my stairs worries me.  Having Dan go back to work worries me.  Nursing Milee in the middle of the night worries me (because I can't get out of bed to get her).  But, my mom and dad are here still and that is a blessing.  They are keeping the kids from crawling on me, and will lift them up when they need to be held.  They also help me get up from bed, and from the couch and basically from any position I get stuck in.  And I just love my home.  It's good to be back.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-6115920350612317756?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6115920350612317756/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=6115920350612317756&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/6115920350612317756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/6115920350612317756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2010/11/thankful-17-although-technically-15.html' title='Thankful #17 (although, technically 15)'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-6989561371379924571</id><published>2010-11-15T10:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-15T10:44:02.812-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Milee is Here!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TOFxICkdD9I/AAAAAAAABLw/TUhtGfqVyuw/s1600/DSCN1648.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TOFxICkdD9I/AAAAAAAABLw/TUhtGfqVyuw/s320/DSCN1648.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539833399585083346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TOFw42_e5jI/AAAAAAAABLo/FY05LUqj0Ss/s1600/DSCN1634.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TOFw42_e5jI/AAAAAAAABLo/FY05LUqj0Ss/s320/DSCN1634.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539833138779186738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TOFwrkRTPAI/AAAAAAAABLg/IDZyAc-btgw/s1600/DSCN1637.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TOFwrkRTPAI/AAAAAAAABLg/IDZyAc-btgw/s320/DSCN1637.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5539832910415346690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Milee Aspen Johnson was born at 7:00am this morning. She weighed 7bs 0.07 ounces and 19 in long.  Tarah is doing excellent and will hopefully be home by Wednesday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-6989561371379924571?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6989561371379924571/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=6989561371379924571&amp;isPopup=true' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/6989561371379924571'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/6989561371379924571'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2010/11/milee-is-here.html' title='Milee is Here!'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TOFxICkdD9I/AAAAAAAABLw/TUhtGfqVyuw/s72-c/DSCN1648.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-2381945426828191264</id><published>2010-11-14T22:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-14T22:22:15.143-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thankfulness #14</title><content type='html'>Today I'm thankful that my parents were willing to drive down to take care of my kids and house while Dan and I are in the hospital.  It was fun to visit with them tonight, and I'm very very glad that I was given such great parents.  It's relaxing to know that my kids will be in good hands while I'm gone, and that I'll be in good hands when I get back.  Thanks mom and dad for coming!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-2381945426828191264?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/2381945426828191264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=2381945426828191264&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/2381945426828191264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/2381945426828191264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2010/11/thankfulness-14.html' title='Thankfulness #14'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-2125236223052185770</id><published>2010-11-13T18:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-13T18:13:04.326-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thankful #13</title><content type='html'>I'm going to blog a lot earlier today because I'm planning on being in bed at a reasonable hour.  I'll admit staying up until 3 just about did me in, and now I'm sick.  Not so excited about that seeing how I'm having this baby on Monday.  But it did make me thankful that the kids play well nicely by themselves, that Dan is home to take care of those instances that require intervention, and that he's making dinner right now while I lounge in bed.  It's so much nicer to be healthy and this is a good reminder of that.  I'm thankful for healthy bodies.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-2125236223052185770?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/2125236223052185770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=2125236223052185770&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/2125236223052185770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/2125236223052185770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2010/11/thankful-13.html' title='Thankful #13'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-3798358453126294014</id><published>2010-11-13T02:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-13T02:46:54.498-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thankful #12</title><content type='html'>I almost missed blogging my thankfulness today (and technically, seeing how it's 2:44 AM I did miss it, but we won't be technical).  The reason I almost missed it is the reason that I'm thankful.  I'm thankful for girl time.  I decided that since I won't have a lot of that after the baby is born, I should have some friends over for girl time.  I didn't realize how late it was.  But you know the great thing?  We didn't do anything...I mean, I didn't have to plan a party or anything.  I just said, "Come and chat....we may paint our nails".  And that's what we did.  We chatted and painted nails.  It was relaxing, and funny, and good times.  But I'm exhausted so I'm going to bed.  Oh, really quick, I'm thankful for Dan allowing me to have this girls time and helping me clean the house so people could come over.   Isn't he great?!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-3798358453126294014?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3798358453126294014/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=3798358453126294014&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/3798358453126294014'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/3798358453126294014'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2010/11/thankful-12.html' title='Thankful #12'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-4576401908056665443</id><published>2010-11-11T20:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-11T20:21:10.552-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thankful Thursday #11</title><content type='html'>Today I'm thankful for my children again.  I just think they are wonderful.  I've been trying to get stuff ready for the baby to come (but sadly lacking in motivation...sigh).  So today I decided to actually work on some stuff.  Some of that stuff was to clean off a swing that has been kept outside.  It's been sitting in my house for two days now just waiting for me.  Kember wanted to help, so...I gave her a wipe and we went to town.  The boys showed up seconds later all wanting to help too.  So, we wiped away.  I think they are getting excited for the baby to come.  Kember told me that she is old enough and big enough to hold her, but Cole is not.  And she was very concerned today that Cole might hit the baby.  Anyway, it was fun to do some cleaning with my kids.  I definitely need to let them help more.  Maybe we'll try tomorrow by sorting the baby clothes.  That would be interesting to see what they think anyway.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-4576401908056665443?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4576401908056665443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=4576401908056665443&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/4576401908056665443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/4576401908056665443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2010/11/thankful-thursday-11.html' title='Thankful Thursday #11'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-466621489557337818</id><published>2010-11-10T22:14:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-10T22:17:27.895-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thankful Thought #10</title><content type='html'>Look at me, I'm on a roll.  Today I'm thankful that Dan could go to my Dr.'s appointment with me.  No, nothing happened, but he was able to meet my Dr. and said he liked him, which gives me more confidence in him so maybe I'll be able to relax a little bit more with this C-section.  They sure do things differently here.  To all you having c-sections in Pullman, be thankful that you are having them there.  Granted, I can't say I'm not thankful to be having one here...because I never have...it's just not as....organized as Pullman's is.  Whatever.  Monday it will be over, and that too is something to be thankful for.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-466621489557337818?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/466621489557337818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=466621489557337818&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/466621489557337818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/466621489557337818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2010/11/thankful-thought-10.html' title='Thankful Thought #10'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-7494964788999800415</id><published>2010-11-09T22:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-09T22:34:08.835-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thankful 9</title><content type='html'>Today I'm thankful for friends.  Whenever we move somewhere new I tell myself that having friends really isn't that important, and I'll be just fine without them.  However, I can't imagine living in each of the places I've lived without the people I lived by.  Let's face it...Pullman...not much about the town, but the people there...amazing!  And here, I rely on my friends so much.  It's nice to be able to call my neighbor and ask for a can of tomato soup because mine made a hissing sound when I opened it.  Even though I'm anti-social for the most part (not because I want to be, but because I don't take the initiative) it's great to know that I could call a number of people to hang out with...if I actually picked up the phone! ;)  I've always been surrounded by great friends.  Growing up, all through high school, great friends at college, and even after I got married Dan and I have made friends that have blessed our lives.  So, thanks everyone.  Thanks for being that friend that I needed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-7494964788999800415?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7494964788999800415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=7494964788999800415&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/7494964788999800415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/7494964788999800415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2010/11/thankful-9.html' title='Thankful 9'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-8747579461288956160</id><published>2010-11-08T22:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-08T22:30:43.295-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanks #8</title><content type='html'>I'm really thankful today for the internet and the knowledge that it puts at our finger tips.  My Mother-in-Law and I were talking about this the other day.  You can learn how to do anything on the internet, and it's pretty cool.  I'm enjoying it now because I found this website called Progressive Phonics and it's helping Caden learn to read.  I've been struggling for awhile because Kember has had lots of school opportunities that Caden isn't getting.  I feel like he needs something like a preschool, but I can't find one that I'm willing to pay for.  My biggest hang up is that I'm his mother and so I should be teaching him, but I don't feel adequate enough.   I don't know how to teach this kind of stuff.  But there are all sorts of websites out there and he is so far (after two days of it) enjoying what he's doing.  We will see how long he enjoys it, but I feel more confident when I have something like this to say, "Okay, now do this."  Maybe I should have gone to school in El Ed instead of Communications, but since it's a little late for that, I'm thankful for the other resources that I have to learn from.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-8747579461288956160?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8747579461288956160/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=8747579461288956160&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/8747579461288956160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/8747579461288956160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2010/11/thanks-8.html' title='Thanks #8'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-7699110155567166675</id><published>2010-11-07T20:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-11-07T20:16:57.755-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thankfulness #7</title><content type='html'>Today in church we had a lesson on gratitude.  I thought it was highly relevant to me at this time, and I realized something.  It's hard to think of things to be grateful/thankful for if you aren't in the habit of thinking of those things.  I mean, we are told quite often to be thankful, and we nod our heads and say, "Yep, that's a great thing to do." and then go on with our lives and don't really think much more of it (at least, I don't).  So I think that being grateful/thankful is a skill that takes effort.  Anyway, that was random, and not what I'm thankful for today, but I just thought I'd share.&lt;br /&gt;Today I've decided to be thankful for a Heavenly Father who gives us opportunities to better ourselves.  He doesn't just say, "Well, you've messed up so I'm sorry, but you're finished."  He's patient enough and willing enough to give us things to wake us up to what's important in life.  An old friend called this getting hit in the head by  a spiritual 2x4.  Sometimes it's a painful way to wake up, but sometimes it's what we need.  Anyway, I'm just glad that He doesn't give up on us...even if we keep doing the same things over and over again.  He lets us keep trying.  And that is definitely something to be thankful for.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-7699110155567166675?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7699110155567166675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=7699110155567166675&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/7699110155567166675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/7699110155567166675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2010/11/thankfulness-7.html' title='Thankfulness #7'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-6310259823847645072</id><published>2010-11-06T19:56:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-11-06T19:59:53.513-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Thankful Times #6</title><content type='html'>Today I'm thankful for reasons that make me laugh.  I even had a picture to insert, but I don't know how to do it on my in-laws computer (it's a Mac you know, and I'm not Mac smart).  The kids were getting baths tonight, and after I did Kember I asked Dan to do the boys.  I guess he was doing something else for a minute, and after a bit told me to "Come here! And bring the camera!"  Cole had gotten into the tub fully clothed.  Caden was splashing about happy as could be like he should be for a bath, but Cole just wanted to play and didn't want to wait for anyone to change his diaper or take his clothes off.  It was really funny.  Good times...good times.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-6310259823847645072?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6310259823847645072/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=6310259823847645072&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/6310259823847645072'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/6310259823847645072'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2010/11/thankful-times-6.html' title='Thankful Times #6'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-425551318367720745</id><published>2010-11-05T19:59:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-11-05T20:02:56.290-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Thankful thinkers #5</title><content type='html'>Today I'm thankful for something very simple, and honestly a little silly.  I'm thankful for my flip flops.  I probably wouldn't have thought twice about this, but very recently my only pair got a hole in the back of them...which wasn't too big of a deal, I wore them anyway, but them I tore out the middle toe thing, and tape doesn't fix it.  So, I was left with sneakers that I can't bend over to tie, and heels.  Heels and me, while normally we like each other, don't get along well this pregnancy..at all.  You should see me limping along at church.  Anyway, so after limping along everywhere that required shoes I made Dan stop at Wal-Mart today and buy me some $1 flip-flops.  They don't fit great (they didn't have my size), but that's the wonderful thing about flip-flops...they aren't form fitting at all.  And I can walk/waddle now normally, and I don't have to bend over to put them on.  Therefore...I'm thankful for my flip-flops (and the fact that they were only $1). ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-425551318367720745?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/425551318367720745/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=425551318367720745&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/425551318367720745'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/425551318367720745'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2010/11/thankful-thinkers-5.html' title='Thankful thinkers #5'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-6276288330581391862</id><published>2010-11-04T22:22:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-11-04T22:26:51.913-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Thankful Thot #4</title><content type='html'>Today I'm thankful that God has given me such good kids.  I don't know many people that take their kids shopping with them if they can help it.  But I actually don't mind shopping with my kids (getting them in and out of the car is another story, but not for today).  Today for example, after taking Kember to school I dragged the other two to a PTO meeting.  It lasted at least an hour.  Then I dragged them to Wal-Mart...then the bread store...then the post office...then back to Kember's school so I could pick her up.  And you know what?  They were really good.  Especially considering they are 3 and 2 years old.  I've tried to go shopping at night when the kids are in bed, and it just doesn't happen.  So I'm thankful that Heavenly Father has given me children that I can take to the grocery store.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-6276288330581391862?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6276288330581391862/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=6276288330581391862&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/6276288330581391862'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/6276288330581391862'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2010/11/thankful-thot-4.html' title='Thankful Thot #4'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-2706778631013662019</id><published>2010-11-03T19:44:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-11-03T19:53:43.478-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Thankful #3</title><content type='html'>Today I am thankful for where I live.  I don't think I ever expected to enjoy St. George as much as I do.  For example....today as I was cutting the boys' hair outside around 3ish, I realized that I was barefoot, and the kids were in short sleeves.  It's November.  Isn't that great?!  I mean, sure during the summer it gets really really hot, but it is perfect right now.  Not only do I enjoy the weather, but I enjoy where I live.  I have great neighbors.  Just today, for example, my neighbor brought in our garbage can.  He does this almost every week.  And he does it for everyone in our circle.  And a few weeks ago when I was mowing my lawn I killed my lawn mower (long story, but the mower died) and my next door neighbor finished one side of my lawn for me.  And she would have finished the whole lawn, but she had an electric mower and her cord didn't reach any further, and our outlets went out when I killed the mower.  So, another neighbor comes by and mows the rest of it!  The same neighbor that finished goes around and edges everyone's yard, and has been known to weed-eat ours.  I love it!&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I live in a small town, but there are what...four or five high schools here and a college?  I feel safe and secure like I would in a small town, but I have the convenience of having stores very close by.  And we live relatively close to family.  Sure, we would like to live a little closer, but it definitely closer than we were living up in Pullman! &lt;br /&gt;How blessed we are to live here in this time of our lives!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-2706778631013662019?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/2706778631013662019/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=2706778631013662019&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/2706778631013662019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/2706778631013662019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2010/11/thankful-3.html' title='Thankful #3'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-3495435814501131242</id><published>2010-11-02T21:57:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-11-02T22:02:05.520-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Thankful Thought #2...Let the countdown begin!</title><content type='html'>Today I'm thankful that we have finally (FINALLY) set a date for this baby to come.  Yea!!!  I realize that most people who have babies don't get to set dates and it's a waiting/guessing game.  However, since C-Sections aren't that way, this baby is coming on Monday the 15th.  Wahoo!  Can you tell I'm a little excited?  Two weeks.  Count 'em...one, two!  I'm not prepared in anyway for her to be here, but I'm sooooo ready for her to be out.  I'm done being pregnant.  So, I'm thankful that the Dr. finally got things moving to set the day.  I could go on and on, but I'm guessing no one really wants to hear, so...I'm thankful for knowledge :) and we'll leave it at that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-3495435814501131242?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3495435814501131242/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=3495435814501131242&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/3495435814501131242'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/3495435814501131242'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2010/11/thankful-thought-2let-countdown-begin.html' title='Thankful Thought #2...Let the countdown begin!'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-8023081150015537459</id><published>2010-11-01T19:13:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-11-01T19:22:10.704-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Thankful thought #1</title><content type='html'>So, I'm hoping to write something I'm thankful for every day until Thanksgiving.  We will see how long I actually keep this up, but for right now, I'm doing good ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I'm thankful for FHE.  For a lot of different reasons, but here is the main one.  I kind of lost it today.  I'll admit.  I was angry and upset, and I yelled at my children.  They were "cleaning" downstairs, which always makes me grumpy because they don't clean, they play, but I was determined today to be nice and not get upset...until I saw that they had gotten into all my craft stuff and strewn it every where. Grrrr, and they know they aren't supposed to touch my stuff...They know this!!!  Anyway...I lost it.  Big time.  I got a big box (two actually) and chucked all their toys that were on the floor and told them they were gone and mommies.  This didn't make them happy, and all was crazy.  Course, after my rampage I realized that I was going to be a nice mommy.  Oops.  So, for FHE we sat down and talked about our feelings and why we were sad and upset and what we should do.  I apologize, and they said they would clean things up.  So, we will all work on it.  And then we all went outside to play soccer and tag and we were all very happy.  But the point is, the church has ordained this program to help us strengthen our families, and if we actually use the program, it will help.  So, I'm thankful for that.  Hopefully tomorrow I can be thankful that I didn't loose it :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-8023081150015537459?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8023081150015537459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=8023081150015537459&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/8023081150015537459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/8023081150015537459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2010/11/thankful-thought-1.html' title='Thankful thought #1'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-7645159736613840264</id><published>2010-10-31T20:08:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-31T20:35:30.203-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Halloween Festivities</title><content type='html'>In order to keep up with the Jones' (In this case, my mother) I had to post two things tonight so she wouldn't post more than me on her blog (hehehe).  So, pictures of our Halloween festivities for my viewing enjoyment.  I'm sad we didn't take more pictures.  I was always running around doing something else so I didn't get the kids when I really dressed them up complete with everything.  But you get the picture.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TM4h03TUFxI/AAAAAAAABKY/mFJQ48CXMCk/s1600/DSCF3709.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TM4h03TUFxI/AAAAAAAABKY/mFJQ48CXMCk/s320/DSCF3709.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534398184166790930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I'm actually really proud of how Caden's costume turned out (not in the above picture though).  He wanted to be a knight (after switching from a super hero) and so I made a tunic and cape for him.  We got a shield and sword at the dollar store and used a tool belt to hold his sword.  I wanted to draw a dragon on his tunic, but that was one of the things that just didn't get done.   I'm sure it all could have looked better, but since I can't read patterns and make things up as I go, I'm pleased with how it turned out.  I was also going to make him wrist cuff thingy's.  No, I have no idea what they are really called, but I saw them on some costumes when I was searching the internet for what a Knight's costume is supposed to look like.&lt;br /&gt;Kember looked beautiful as a witch...even with her hair all funny.  It is amazing what mascara and eyeliner do for her.  I mean, I think she's a pretty girl, but holy cow...when you add make-up, which we didn't take a picture of, she's drop dead gorgeous.  When Dan saw her he said that she wasn't allowed to wear make-up for a looong time.&lt;br /&gt;Cole was reusing Caden spider costume from when he was a baby.  He was really excited that he got to be a spider.  He kept telling people he was a spider web.  I wanted to spray his hair black and spike it, but Wal-Mart didn't have any black hair spray, so...we just spiked it for actual trick-or-treating (or our ward party).&lt;br /&gt;Thursday night our friends called and said that the athletic department does a trunk-or-treat for the community at the stadium.  Great!  We were in.  So we threw on the kids costumes and walked over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TM4kxt-qD2I/AAAAAAAABLQ/gNV-qheuFRU/s1600/DSCN1561.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TM4kxt-qD2I/AAAAAAAABLQ/gNV-qheuFRU/s320/DSCN1561.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534401428659507042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Cole thought it was awesome that you said, "Trick-or-treat!" and people gave you candy.  The other two didn't say much but they enjoyed getting all the candy anyway.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TM4kytWIUoI/AAAAAAAABLY/pRTq9PxErrg/s1600/DSCN1564.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TM4kytWIUoI/AAAAAAAABLY/pRTq9PxErrg/s320/DSCN1564.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534401445669393026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We went to the costume parade at Kember's school on Friday.  Caden and Cole didn't like the waiting so much, but once all the kids came out they told me which ones were their favorite.  Caden was really excited every time he saw another knight (although most of them were Ninja's).&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TM4kE42WzxI/AAAAAAAABLA/0COU9cbLyGI/s1600/DSCN1568.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TM4kE42WzxI/AAAAAAAABLA/0COU9cbLyGI/s320/DSCN1568.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534400658483367698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Kember apparently doesn't do well with crowds of people, so I wasn't surprised at all to see her holding hands with her teacher for the parade.  I'm actually pleasantly surprised she wasn't crying and agreed to walk with everyone else.  This is progress (although, maybe I'm being to hard on her...but let me tell you, the primary program was a disaster as far as Kember was concerned)&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TM4kFJveLCI/AAAAAAAABLI/bBk9qR_w1oE/s1600/DSCN1569.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TM4kFJveLCI/AAAAAAAABLI/bBk9qR_w1oE/s320/DSCN1569.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534400663017892898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Kember thought it was really neat that her teacher was a super hero.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kember's teacher let me bring the boys to Kember's class party.  I went to help, but didn't end up doing anything.  Ah well.  Maybe with our last child I'll be helpful again.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TM4ijfuX-7I/AAAAAAAABKg/6pRbmews-DI/s1600/DSCN1570.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TM4ijfuX-7I/AAAAAAAABKg/6pRbmews-DI/s320/DSCN1570.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534398985291692978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TM4ijry3wYI/AAAAAAAABKo/5-UvfDkUnDo/s1600/DSCN1572.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TM4ijry3wYI/AAAAAAAABKo/5-UvfDkUnDo/s320/DSCN1572.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534398988531777922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TM4ijyhEItI/AAAAAAAABKw/zQSKDq54ppw/s1600/DSCN1573.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TM4ijyhEItI/AAAAAAAABKw/zQSKDq54ppw/s320/DSCN1573.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534398990336139986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TM4ikdQ18tI/AAAAAAAABK4/gMItKxJltMk/s1600/DSCN1574.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TM4ikdQ18tI/AAAAAAAABK4/gMItKxJltMk/s320/DSCN1574.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534399001810825938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We ended Halloween night (or I guess Saturday night) with part of Charlie Brown's great pumpkin movie on Hulu.  The kids really enjoyed staying up to watch it.  And, this year we actually got some trick-or-treaters.  Last year I think most people gave up because of all the trunk-or-treats that the different organizations do every year.  We probably would have gotten even more, but I turned the porch light off when I couldn't get off the couch anymore.  It's amazing how uncomfortable just sitting is.  Ah well...three more weeks...three more weeks.  Chant with me now.  Three more weeks. &lt;br /&gt;The boys ended up getting sick and so the three of us stayed home from church today.  Caden learned how boring it is to be sick, and how much better it would have been to go to church, and Cole just slept the whole time. &lt;br /&gt;So, there you have our Halloween festivities.  Good times, great memories.  Now if I could only stop eating the candy.  Once I'm done being pregnant it certainly isn't going to help in the weight loss area.  So maybe I should just enjoy it while I have the excuse of being the size of a whale.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-7645159736613840264?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7645159736613840264/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=7645159736613840264&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/7645159736613840264'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/7645159736613840264'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2010/10/halloween-festivities.html' title='Halloween Festivities'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TM4h03TUFxI/AAAAAAAABKY/mFJQ48CXMCk/s72-c/DSCF3709.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-7677534906397275259</id><published>2010-10-31T19:37:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-31T19:55:12.350-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Cole's 2nd Birthday</title><content type='html'>Whew.  A little late posting this, but it's sooner than I've posted Kember's.  I've really got to do that at some point.  We really did celebrate her turning 5, I promise.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TM4aP4CB0nI/AAAAAAAABJw/kgZ5iGNMOAU/s1600/DSCN1504.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TM4aP4CB0nI/AAAAAAAABJw/kgZ5iGNMOAU/s320/DSCN1504.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534389852126171762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We don't do a lot for birthday's, but I always try to make a cake.  I'll admit I wasn't into it this year and didn't want to make one...at all.  So, this isn't my best effort.  Especially considering the fact that I was rushing to get it done so we could take the kids to a movie for Cole's birthday.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TM4aQoqR8BI/AAAAAAAABJ4/GvDVKI_8HrQ/s1600/DSCN1505.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TM4aQoqR8BI/AAAAAAAABJ4/GvDVKI_8HrQ/s320/DSCN1505.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534389865179901970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Cole really seemed to enjoy it though.  It tasted nasty.  The butter that I used must have gotten freezer burn because the frosting tasted disgusting.  Bleh.  But the kids still ate it.  Anyway.  The cutest part of Cole's birthday was that he loves the "Happy Birthday" song.  He would sing it all the time, but he would never say, "Happy Birthday to Me (or Cole)"  it was always "Kember" or "Caden" or "Mommy" or "Daddy".  And when I said, "to Cole" he would say, "Nooo" with a big smile on his face.  And when you asked him how old he was he would say, "I four".  Guess we are skipping a few years with this kid.  We are still working on getting him to say that he is two.  &lt;br /&gt;Presents were actually really fun because the kids helped.  Kember informed me that she had money, and she wanted to buy Cole a present.  I keep money that she gets in her wallet in our safe, and she pleaded with me to take it out so she could buy him a train.  She was very insistent on that.  Nothing else would do.  I tried to get her to buy some cheaper things, but she had to buy him a train.  Caden also wanted to buy Cole something, but he doesn't have any money.  So I gave him a nickle (generous, I know) and told him that Daddy would pay for the rest.  He got Cole a car.  They were each very excited to wrap their presents themselves, and Cole was even more happy to unwrap them.  He knew just what to do.  These pictures make me laugh because the car ramp we bought him is bigger than he is, but he was excited!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TM4a8n6oPxI/AAAAAAAABKA/t7cHVxWh1vM/s1600/DSCN1515.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TM4a8n6oPxI/AAAAAAAABKA/t7cHVxWh1vM/s320/DSCN1515.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534390620894281490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Where'd he go?  He's there somewhere.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TM4a82aPysI/AAAAAAAABKI/LUxrU1MhfpA/s1600/DSCN1517.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TM4a82aPysI/AAAAAAAABKI/LUxrU1MhfpA/s320/DSCN1517.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5534390624784992962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After presents we went out to dinner, which was a waste of money because none of the kids ate anything...at all.  Sigh.  And then we took them to Toy Story 3.  I'll admit I was nervous about this.  We've never taken the kids to a movie before (well, that isn't entirely true...they had summer matinee's in Pullman, but I'm not counting those because the whole theater was filled with kids and babies and non-grown up people).  And I was nervous because my kids are sensitive to what they watch.  Cole seemed to like it okay.  Caden did pretty well.  There were some parts that scared him, but Kember insisted on leaving.  I took her out and we waited in the lobby for quite some time.  I convinced her to try it again (I wanted to see it), and Dan had to take her back out to the lobby for a bit.  I want to encourage my kids to leave when they don't feel right about a movie, or if somethings wrong....so I was trying to be supportive, but I really just didn't understand.  But hopefully she will keep doing what  she feels is right.  Even if no one else feels the same way. &lt;br /&gt;So, all in all, Cole had a good birthday, and I made a cake.  Check.  Done and done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sure love you little man!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-7677534906397275259?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7677534906397275259/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=7677534906397275259&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/7677534906397275259'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/7677534906397275259'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2010/10/coles-2nd-birthday.html' title='Cole&apos;s 2nd Birthday'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TM4aP4CB0nI/AAAAAAAABJw/kgZ5iGNMOAU/s72-c/DSCN1504.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-6991105545133111212</id><published>2010-10-28T15:45:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-28T16:33:58.689-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Carving Pumpkins</title><content type='html'>Well, it's that time of year again.  Probably past it, but we like to do things a little late in this family.  Kember has been asking and asking forever to get pumpkins but I kept putting her off.  I'll admit it was because I didn't want to buy any and I was hoping the parents would have extras for us.  Turns out neither set of parents pumpkin crops turned out real great this year, so we had to buy some.  Next year we'll try again to grow them...and not leave them unwatered for a week during the hottest part of the summer while we go out of town :)  So, while ordering our Bountiful Basket for our date night activity (look for an Iron Chef post....it was awesome!) we decided to get some pumpkins too!  And after everything was ordered we realized our order was going to Roy, UT.  Huh, well, we don't live anywhere close to Roy, so that was a waste of money.  So we bought more pumpkins at Harmons.  Which we should have done in the first place because they were way cheaper.  Ah well.  Live and learn...live and learn.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TMnxf6nc7NI/AAAAAAAABIE/YODEHL_YO2c/s1600/DSCN1556.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TMnxf6nc7NI/AAAAAAAABIE/YODEHL_YO2c/s320/DSCN1556.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533219147814333650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here is the outcome of the pumpkin carving.  Oh wait, there are only three pumpkins and there are five of us.  Let's see...the Cat's Kember's choice...the Cyclopes is Caden's, and the little one is Cole's...so where are Dan's and mine?  Especially Dan's, since he loves this activity....especially using power tools to help him :)  Well, here's what happened.  I'm sick.  Carving pumpkins outside did not appeal to me at all.  But Dan, being the good father that he is, took it upon himself to clean-out and carve everyone's pumpkins after they picked their template (because I'm not letting them near the knives).  By the time that was finish, and don't worry, even though the kids didn't really help, they had a blast, Dan as worn out and it was getting dark.  I don't know if we'll get to carving ours.  Maybe I'll just let the kids paint on them, but whatever.  They were so cute sitting there for pictures saying, "Happy Halloween!"  Especially Cole.  He puts this weird cadence on the word Halloween and makes it...funny.  Anyway.  Here they each are by their proud pumpkin.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TMnwbyV4IcI/AAAAAAAABHk/5mFnT22PRt4/s1600/DSCN1551.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TMnwbyV4IcI/AAAAAAAABHk/5mFnT22PRt4/s320/DSCN1551.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533217977362031042" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TMnxFJnRs2I/AAAAAAAABH0/Coe4aQmCtyY/s1600/DSCN1553.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TMnxFJnRs2I/AAAAAAAABH0/Coe4aQmCtyY/s320/DSCN1553.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533218687983661922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TMnxEiRqbsI/AAAAAAAABHs/Z_04l79pJj0/s1600/DSCN1552.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TMnxEiRqbsI/AAAAAAAABHs/Z_04l79pJj0/s320/DSCN1552.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533218677424025282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TMnxFsC1RrI/AAAAAAAABH8/cOv3mASkPMQ/s1600/DSCN1554.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TMnxFsC1RrI/AAAAAAAABH8/cOv3mASkPMQ/s320/DSCN1554.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533218697226045106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Halloween!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-6991105545133111212?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6991105545133111212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=6991105545133111212&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/6991105545133111212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/6991105545133111212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2010/10/carving-pumpkins.html' title='Carving Pumpkins'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TMnxf6nc7NI/AAAAAAAABIE/YODEHL_YO2c/s72-c/DSCN1556.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-5304875142608486160</id><published>2010-10-28T15:04:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-10-28T16:38:19.438-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Iron Chef Date Night</title><content type='html'>It's true.  Dan and I are cool.  Even if I have to state it myself on a blog.  We are trying to date more, and one of our ideas was for a group of us to do Iron Chef.  It turned out more like Master Chef if you are cool like us and watch cooking shows on Hulu, but only if you're cool like that would you know these things.  So we sent out invitations (which I was pretty proud of ps by-the-way) and asked some of our friends to join us for an evening to  "Create a culinary masterpiece that will be judged on taste, presentation, and creativity."  We stayed up the night before watching Julie &amp;amp; Julia (or Julia &amp;amp; Julie) to prepare...not a bad movie...don't know if I would recommend it, but it was about cooking, and we're cool like that.  Are you convinced yet?&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TMn0P2C-JrI/AAAAAAAABIM/GwW-lD_HUOo/s1600/DSCN1524.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TMn0P2C-JrI/AAAAAAAABIM/GwW-lD_HUOo/s320/DSCN1524.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533222170244556466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TMn0QfA4NkI/AAAAAAAABIU/UDrKNChdZjA/s1600/DSCN1525.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TMn0QfA4NkI/AAAAAAAABIU/UDrKNChdZjA/s320/DSCN1525.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533222181241632322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TMn0QjYNAFI/AAAAAAAABIc/cyjSnXD6fNk/s1600/DSCN1528.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TMn0QjYNAFI/AAAAAAAABIc/cyjSnXD6fNk/s320/DSCN1528.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533222182413205586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We gave everyone instructions to bring one meat (or protein) and two other ingredients or spices and we would provide the rest.  I'll have to say that our kitchen was really crowded, but it was awesome just the same.  Everyone had 45 minutes to cook something.   It ended up being more like an hour because ... let's face it... we aren't chef's and for cooking in someone else's kitchen using who knows what is no easy task.  Here's how it turned out.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TMn1B8eLY6I/AAAAAAAABIk/ItXvHBtGNeY/s1600/DSCN1531.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TMn1B8eLY6I/AAAAAAAABIk/ItXvHBtGNeY/s320/DSCN1531.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533223030962742178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TMn1CcrKaaI/AAAAAAAABIs/yfQ0xjR2xaw/s1600/DSCN1532.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TMn1CcrKaaI/AAAAAAAABIs/yfQ0xjR2xaw/s320/DSCN1532.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533223039607138722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The Pelton's brought fish and steamed that...and did other fishy stuff that I don't understand and never will.  They also bake that yummy looking apple and stuffed it with yummy goodness.  While I personally didn't appreciate the fish (and Ginger admitted that she chose that so I'd have to taste it...little stinker) the apple was divine, and look at their plating!  Awesome!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TMn1C51GkII/AAAAAAAABI0/gJXlm7_wbHw/s1600/DSCN1536.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TMn1C51GkII/AAAAAAAABI0/gJXlm7_wbHw/s320/DSCN1536.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533223047433457794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TMn1DO6LzvI/AAAAAAAABI8/8XjqanYnqV4/s1600/DSCN1537.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TMn1DO6LzvI/AAAAAAAABI8/8XjqanYnqV4/s320/DSCN1537.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533223053091917554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The Pence's created a yummy chicken stir fry, while not only making it up on the spot, but taking care of their twins as well.  Again look at that plating.  Actually, I keep looking at his hat.  Don't you love that!  I've got to get one of those for all those time I want to feel like a cook!  Christmas is coming, so I'm just saying...I'd look awesome (or funny) in one of those hats.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TMn1fVSbJHI/AAAAAAAABJM/W2x868_ar_g/s1600/DSCN1533.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TMn1fVSbJHI/AAAAAAAABJM/W2x868_ar_g/s320/DSCN1533.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533223535840535666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TMn1e6f6TJI/AAAAAAAABJE/vPitm5bzIWw/s1600/DSCN1530.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TMn1e6f6TJI/AAAAAAAABJE/vPitm5bzIWw/s320/DSCN1530.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533223528649346194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Because we are Johnson's we picked beef.  And apparently because we're us and don't do healthy food we chose to deep fry it.  What could be better than thinly sliced steak marinated and cooked to perfection by Dan and wrapped with chunks of cheddar cheese in a biscuit fried in oil then smothered in a cheese sauce?   Then, to top it off ... cube up some apples and cook those with lemon juice and sugar, and stick them in cream cheese, wrap them up in a biscuit and fry those as well...not to mention a sugar glaze over it.  Well, we haven't died of a heart attack yet.  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TMn4C4TPb4I/AAAAAAAABJU/IKuZlgs7R1Q/s1600/DSCN1539.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TMn4C4TPb4I/AAAAAAAABJU/IKuZlgs7R1Q/s320/DSCN1539.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533226345557880706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;All of the finished master pieces...framed by our ingredient table.  We wanted to go to the DI and get a really ugly trophy (or make it really ugly) for the winner, but we forgot till the end.  So we just agreed that someone else would host Iron Chef again, and it will be more awesomeness.  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TMn4DTs0J4I/AAAAAAAABJc/spPPzQ3vKjE/s1600/DSCN1546.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TMn4DTs0J4I/AAAAAAAABJc/spPPzQ3vKjE/s320/DSCN1546.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533226352912902018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Proof that I tried fish.  They didn't get a picture of my face after wards which was probably a good thing.  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TMn4D6KHPII/AAAAAAAABJk/h_2YFuq3sx0/s1600/DSCN1542.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TMn4D6KHPII/AAAAAAAABJk/h_2YFuq3sx0/s320/DSCN1542.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533226363236334722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And just a goober picture of Dan because he's cool, and I love him!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-5304875142608486160?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5304875142608486160/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=5304875142608486160&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/5304875142608486160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/5304875142608486160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2010/10/iron-chef-date-night.html' title='Iron Chef Date Night'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TMn0P2C-JrI/AAAAAAAABIM/GwW-lD_HUOo/s72-c/DSCN1524.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-1843506920806226938</id><published>2010-09-27T15:47:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-27T16:04:30.785-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Potato</title><content type='html'>Have you ever seen a potato explode?  I hadn't until July, but look they do!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TKETz6JkhMI/AAAAAAAABHU/lV-jkC9U56o/s1600/Exploding+potato+July+20,+2010+%282%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TKETz6JkhMI/AAAAAAAABHU/lV-jkC9U56o/s320/Exploding+potato+July+20,+2010+%282%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521716400636593346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TKET0SFmRFI/AAAAAAAABHc/yBILD-sZJ5Y/s1600/Exploding+potato+July+20,+2010.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TKET0SFmRFI/AAAAAAAABHc/yBILD-sZJ5Y/s320/Exploding+potato+July+20,+2010.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521716407062381650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was because I forgot to stick holes in it.  I was really surprised to find such a mess in my oven, but I thought it was hilarious...until I tried to turn the oven to the clean cycle forgetting that there were bits of potato still in there.  All I remembered is that my oven was messy...and it needed to be cleaned.  That wasn't my smartest moment.  I did it right before I went to bed and when I went into my dark kitchen a little later to grab a drink I saw flames glowing from my oven.  Huh...that's not good.  So I calmly went to Dan and said..."There's a fire in the oven."  He wasn't the calmest I've ever seen him, but the fire had also put itself out by the time he looked at it.  Dan wasn't extremely pleased with me, but I still (two months later) find the whole thing hilarious.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-1843506920806226938?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1843506920806226938/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=1843506920806226938&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/1843506920806226938'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/1843506920806226938'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2010/09/potato.html' title='Potato'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TKETz6JkhMI/AAAAAAAABHU/lV-jkC9U56o/s72-c/Exploding+potato+July+20,+2010+%282%29.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-3158172999978756383</id><published>2010-09-27T15:17:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-09-27T15:33:08.194-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Swim Lessons</title><content type='html'>Be prepared for a backlog of blogs from July.  I know, I know..it's a little late, but what can you do?  This summer I decided that we were really going to put the kids in swimming lessons.  I meant to last year, but never got around to it.  But with all the water here, I thought it was probably wise.  So, I signed Kember and Caden up for lessons at the city pool.  Let's just say that one-Kember loved it!  Love, loved it.  In fact, after lessons were over she wanted to do another session, which I would have signed her up for, but they were all filled up.  She did pretty well.  She still talks about it months later.  Actually...she learned best when we went swimming with some friends and the kids taught Kember.  I'll need to remember that for next year.  And two-Caden hated ever second of it.  He hated it so much I ended up withdrawing him from the class.  I thought he would love it.  He loves swimming at Grandma and Grandpa's pool.  He loves swimming period...but he did not like this class.  I even moved Kember down a class thinking it would help him to have her in the same class.  It didn't...and then I couldn't get Kember to go back to her original class.  Oh well.  Maybe when he turns 5.  I was going to sign him up for soccer or something, but we are going to hold off signing him up for anything like that.  Anyway, after two classes of him not getting in the water at all, I decided it wasn't worth the effort.  The teacher really did try her best, but Caden is rather stubborn (huh...wonder where he got that from).  So, Kember learned to stick her head under water and doggy paddle with out a life jacket, and Caden keeps telling me that he can swim, and very proudly with his life jacket on, he swims around Grandma's pool.  What a stinker.  But he sure is cute!&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TKEMM1jetHI/AAAAAAAABGs/0hefX5nGdnU/s1600/Swim+lessons.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TKEMM1jetHI/AAAAAAAABGs/0hefX5nGdnU/s320/Swim+lessons.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521708032806794354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TKEMNuxkfOI/AAAAAAAABG8/JWYqASqji5k/s1600/Swim+lessons+%283%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TKEMNuxkfOI/AAAAAAAABG8/JWYqASqji5k/s320/Swim+lessons+%283%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521708048166714594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TKEMNTwfIHI/AAAAAAAABG0/AWz1USk31vI/s1600/Swim+lessons+%282%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TKEMNTwfIHI/AAAAAAAABG0/AWz1USk31vI/s320/Swim+lessons+%282%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521708040914411634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TKEMh94diEI/AAAAAAAABHE/gtao7C2iqlw/s1600/Swim+lessons+%284%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TKEMh94diEI/AAAAAAAABHE/gtao7C2iqlw/s320/Swim+lessons+%284%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521708395819534402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TKEMiZDKT9I/AAAAAAAABHM/dvXdLPkf7SY/s1600/Swim+lessons+%285%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TKEMiZDKT9I/AAAAAAAABHM/dvXdLPkf7SY/s320/Swim+lessons+%285%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521708403112169426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-3158172999978756383?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3158172999978756383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=3158172999978756383&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/3158172999978756383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/3158172999978756383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2010/09/swim-lessons.html' title='Swim Lessons'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TKEMM1jetHI/AAAAAAAABGs/0hefX5nGdnU/s72-c/Swim+lessons.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-8828762681338662771</id><published>2010-08-31T13:13:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-08-31T13:35:36.345-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Story about the Van</title><content type='html'>It was a good van...it served us well...until I smashed it into a concrete barrier.  At least no one was hurt right?  Right.  Actually, after this all happen I was just full of thanks, but I'm getting ahead of myself.  Here's what really happened ;)&lt;br /&gt;I had gone up to visit my family, attend education week (for one day) with more family, and hang out with even more family.  Someday I may do a post on all these things because they were wonderful.  Well, Dan was getting antsy for me to be home.  I had to leave him behind because of work and because we stayed so long.  I promised him I'd be home on Wednesday before he got home from work.  Well, when I left good 'ol Aurora it was overcast (and might have been raining, I can't remember).  But the rain came down later when I was on 1-70.  I was just about to the junction where you get to 1-15...about 10 miles or so from Cove Fort.  It was raining really hard and as I was going over the last bridge there I hydroplaned.  My car spun around and the back end passenger side hit the cement barrier.  Luckily (although, I totally attribute this to saying prayer of safety) no one else was on the road.  Had someone else been there they would most likely have slammed on their brakes, more hydroplaning would have ensued and injuries would have happened.  Anyway...the kids started screaming (because hey, it was scary).  Caden was screaming because his fruit snack flew out of his hands and he couldn't find them.  Kember kept screaming at me, "Why did you do that mom!", and Cole was screaming mostly because the other two were and partly because that was not a fun way to wake up from a nap.  I was able to turn the car around and pull off the bridge so I didn't hamper any oncoming traffic.  After figuring out that everyone was okay, just scared I searched for my phone (lots of things went flying and it took a while to locate it) and called Dan.  I didn't really know what to tell him so I just said, "I just got in a car accident."  Needless to say, he didn't enjoy hearing that very much.  He's two hours away and can't do anything so he tells me that he will call his parents to come help me.  I protested and said that I could call them, but he basically hung up on me and I had to sit there and wait.  So, I got all the kids out of their car seats and tried to calm them down by saying a thankful prayer.  There were a little confused as to why we were thankful this happened, but like I said, no one was hurt, and it could have been a lot worse.  A little while after that prayer Caden said he still didn't feel good and asked if we could say another prayer for comfort.  Oh, I guess we should have done that.  So, we did, and everyone started to calm down....for the most part.  It was still raining, and I couldn't distract the kids with song or games.  Kember kept complaining that she needed to go potty really bad, but since she can't just squat and go, I had no options for her.  Truthfully, I had to go pretty bad too.  Must be the stress and the rain, but what can you do?  Anyway, both back tires had blown out completely, the back tail-light was no longer, the bumper was squished, and if you were in the car you could see outside...I'm not talking like through a window....like there was a hole type thing.  Anyway, I'm sure there was more, but I'm trying to block it all from my mind.  Scott and Carol Lee come to the rescue (bless them, again, prayers of thanks).  They told me that I could just take their car home, but let's be honest, I didn't feel like driving anymore.  Carol Lee told me she would take us all the way home, which was, I'm sure, just what she felt like doing, but I sure appreciate it.  Scott tried valiantly to load the van on the back of the trailer, but with the back tires blown, and the angle of everything it didn't work.  We left Scott to deal with the aftermath and we took off.  It never occurred to me to call the police because no one else was involved, and no one was hurt.  However, if you ever get into an accident, you are supposed to call them.  Oops.  Good thing Scott was around when an officer pulled up.  They filled out the incident report together (and scolded Dan for letting me leave the scene...I'm glad they scolded him and not me).  So, it was all good and happy.  We made it to St. George with no further incident.  Grandma smoothed everything over with the kids by stopping at Wendy's.  And it was really good to see Dan again.  We left the kids with grandma and went to the grocery store, and I broke down.  I started crying and shaking, and I realized my neck hurt.  I must have got a little bit of whip lash, but it's all good now.  That night I couldn't sleep because I kept having nightmares about what could have happened, and how we all could have died, or someone else could have died or got hurt or whatever.  It wasn't the best night I've ever had.  And even though looking for a new van is no fun, I'm still really thankful for how this all turned out.  See, those prayers of safety really do work!  Keep saying them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-8828762681338662771?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8828762681338662771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=8828762681338662771&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/8828762681338662771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/8828762681338662771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2010/08/story-about-van.html' title='The Story about the Van'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-8919222975281711337</id><published>2010-08-29T20:22:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-08-29T21:03:42.777-06:00</updated><title type='text'>7 Years and counting</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/THsXLKzNZKI/AAAAAAAABGM/D7qIcolvtXs/s1600/DCP_0322.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/THsXLKzNZKI/AAAAAAAABGM/D7qIcolvtXs/s400/DCP_0322.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511024049663075490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Seven years ago yesterday Dan and I were married!  Has every day been bliss and wonder?  No.  But, I'm happier now than I ever thought I would be, and I definitely wouldn't change marrying this wonderful man.  It's funny how hard marriage is...especially when you throw kids in the mix, but it's always funny just how great it is too...especially when you consciously make an effort to make it great.  Take yesterday for example.  Our anniversary.  Dan has had plans in the making for months now.  Seriously, months.  For one reason or another (ahem...mostly me) those plans got scrapped and he had to keep starting from scratch.  But, what he came up with was probably the best thing he could have done for me personally.  First, he got up early to pick up our Bountiful Basket and stop at the store for a few things.  Let's just say that this was trying because little ones, who were up extremely late the night before, were up extremely early on this morning.  But, Dan persevered and made me breakfast in bed (stuffed french toast if you can believe it....ooo, it was yummy.  I wasn't expecting the stuffed bit so I was pleasantly surprised).  He let the kids help him, which I thought was cute.  I know because I could hear everything going on while I was "sleeping".  Good times.  Next, we both frantically try to finish each others gifts while occupying three children who wanted to help with everything :).  Now, on to our date.  I had no idea what we were going to do.  I know at one time we were going to go out of town for the weekend, another idea was to run to Vegas for the day, and I know that another idea was to go see a play. But like I said, all of these ideas (and others) got scrapped, so I was pretty clueless as to what was going to  happen.  We all load into the little Nissan (don't ask about the van, it's another post...just waiting to be typed and posted) and drive the kids to the babysitters, then Dan hands me a little book that he just finished typing.  It's a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Choose Your Own Adventure&lt;/span&gt; story that he made up for our date!  How fun is that.  It's actually really really impressive, and if I wasn't as lazy as I am now I would run downstairs and copy the first page for you all to read because it was really clever, thoughtful, and loads of fun.  It was nice to just enjoy each other for the four hours we had the babysitter for (thanks Krystal for watching the kids!)  After we picked up the kids we figured we go looking for a van.  This might not have been the best idea in the world, but like I said, it's life.  The kids will not be coming with us the next time we look for a van.  They were just being kids, but it was a hassle and add to that the car buying experience of dealing with dealers, it wasn't the most fun I've had in my life.  But it wasn't the worst either :).  So anyway, the day doesn't sound like much (but that's because you weren't there), but Dan put a lot of effort into it, and it turned out better than a weekend away, or a trip to see a play. &lt;br /&gt;I thought it would be fun to post some old photos of us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/THsXoNQtuTI/AAAAAAAABGU/TUJqgIqDwMw/s1600/pics+005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/THsXoNQtuTI/AAAAAAAABGU/TUJqgIqDwMw/s320/pics+005.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511024548539906354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This picture was taken the night he asked me to marry him.  No, he didn't propose like with a ring or anything, but he told me he thought we should get married.  Okay, here's the long story.  The picture is on a Sunday night right before we go on a bike ride with his parents.  He's kind of acting weird the whole time, but when we are done with the ride his grandparents are over visiting so I can't talk to him about it.  Finally everyone goes to bed and I ask him what's up...because he just looks so....concerned.  He blurts out, "I don't think we should wait to get married."  I'm in complete shock because the Wednesday before while we were herding cattle he had told me that we should wait and "mature" our relationship.  Whatever.  Anyway, so that's where I was, and then he says that he doesn't want to wait, and the next thing I know his mom is out with the calendar and we're planning the date.  My parents are still on their mission and he really didn't ask me yet, but the temple is called and we have a date.  Hehehehe.  A month later...we're married.  Yep, long engagement.  And to this day I still have to thank Scott (my father-in-law).  While I changing out of my Sunday dress to go on the bike ride he asked Dan what he was waiting for.  It got Dan thinking, and apparently scared him to death...and here we are 7 years later.  So, thanks Scott for nudging your son in the right direction.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/THsXof4lNaI/AAAAAAAABGc/7jioN8z7jXM/s1600/pics+007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/THsXof4lNaI/AAAAAAAABGc/7jioN8z7jXM/s320/pics+007.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5511024553538958754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This picture is funny to me because Dan is dying on the couch after having his adenoids and tonsils removed.  We had just gotten officially (meaning, he got on his knee and gave me a ring) engaged and I went to support him through this surgery...Turns out I got sick and was throwing up in the hospital room and dying a horrible death (don't worry, I'm okay).  While throwing up I could hear one of the nurses talking about how Dan must have had a hard time in surgery and the other nurse remarks, "No, that's his girlfriend".  That was embarrassing.  Well, it's all part of being a girl I guess.  Anyway...so I like this picture because we are both just dying on the couch together.  Good times...great memories. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in 7 years we've&lt;br /&gt;-finished our bachelors degree at USU&lt;br /&gt;-had our first child&lt;br /&gt;-moved out of state to start more schooling&lt;br /&gt;-had our second child&lt;br /&gt;-had our third child&lt;br /&gt;-survived Vet school, and graduated&lt;br /&gt;-got our first "real" job&lt;br /&gt;-moved back to UT&lt;br /&gt;-bought our first house&lt;br /&gt;-are expecting our fourth child&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I won't bore anyone with any more pictures or memories, but I will say, "Dan, I love you.  And I'm glad that you asked me to be yours forever.  You are a wonderful man, husband, and father.  I'm excited to look back on the next 7 years of our marriage think about all the things we've weathered together.  Thanks for putting up with me, and loving me.  I love you."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-8919222975281711337?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8919222975281711337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=8919222975281711337&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/8919222975281711337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/8919222975281711337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2010/08/7-years-and-counting.html' title='7 Years and counting'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/THsXLKzNZKI/AAAAAAAABGM/D7qIcolvtXs/s72-c/DCP_0322.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-6698423137867379116</id><published>2010-08-10T08:35:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-08-10T08:39:39.557-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Stake...to eat or not to eat</title><content type='html'>We had stake conference this last weekend.  It was great, and we are very thankful to Grandma and Grandpa for watching our little ones so we could go to the adult meeting.  Anyway, on Sunday when the Stake President was speaking I asked my kids, "Do you know who that is?"  They didn't know, so I said, "That's the Stake President."  Silence.  Apparently that didn't mean anything to them, but then Caden said, "Does that mean he likes steak?"  Oh, uh, well no...that isn't what that means.  I then tried to explain what a stake was and he got really really confused.  Maybe I just should have said "yes".  I mean, in all reality the Stake President probably likes to eat steak.  I'll have to ask him next time I see him ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-6698423137867379116?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6698423137867379116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=6698423137867379116&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/6698423137867379116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/6698423137867379116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2010/08/staketo-eat-or-not-to-eat.html' title='Stake...to eat or not to eat'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-8367532411034410876</id><published>2010-07-10T09:24:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-07-10T09:41:49.242-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Wahoo!</title><content type='html'>Bring on the pink!  Bring on the flowers, and headbands, and bracelets, and all that fun stuff that we've had little of over the past 3ish years.  It's a girl, and we are sooo excited.  Well, Kember (and parents) are excited.  Caden said he wanted a brother, but is pretty content when we told him that Heavenly Father gets to choose, not us.&lt;br /&gt;Now on to the naming, we we aren't that excited about it because we don't agree on anything.  So, she will probably not have a middle name and her first name will probably end up starting with a "K".  Sigh.  Aw well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-8367532411034410876?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8367532411034410876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=8367532411034410876&amp;isPopup=true' title='20 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/8367532411034410876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/8367532411034410876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2010/07/wahoo.html' title='Wahoo!'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>20</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-9141759408528950818</id><published>2010-07-07T19:53:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-07-07T22:45:53.261-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Part II (4th of July)</title><content type='html'>Sunday was quite the day.  Ginger and I were the only ones there from the Primary Presidency, but I think things went really well.  Especially considering we had more visitors than regular kids (which is something because we have a good sized primary).  Everyone is going to be gone again next week so I have to do Sharing Time.  I'll admit, I'm a little nervous.  I've done it before, but in Pullman it was 8 kids max, and the oldest was maybe 5.  So it was more fun/games/crafts stuff.  This one is actual senior primary and junior primary, and well...I'm intimidated.  So if you have any great ideas the theme is "Jesus went about doing good".  I have some ideas, but...pass any along that you so desire.  Anyway...Ginger talked about freedoms (since it was the 4th of July) and had the kids make their own Title of Liberty.  We came home, napped (naps on Sunday are essential) and then went over to a BB-Q at the Peltons with some of her family.  We lit off a few more fireworks, and called it a happy 4th!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday we decided that since Dan wasn't working we needed to continue to have fun.  So, the Pelton's took us hiking to see some petrogliphs.  It was really really fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDUwDsn07DI/AAAAAAAABE0/TLMVOvuo6L8/s1600/DSCF3636.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDUwDsn07DI/AAAAAAAABE0/TLMVOvuo6L8/s320/DSCF3636.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491348160724134962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Kember is showing off the first set we came too.  She insisted on wearing the crown we made for the 4th, and wore it most of the time.  Sometimes, I just laugh at how girly she is.  I got into an argument with Caden on Sunday about what he was wearing.  Then I lectured the kids on how we need to dress up in our best on Sundays to show respect for Heavenly Father, and I made some comment on that's why I wear make-up on Sunday.  Kember got really excited and ran off to apply her own.  Where does she come from?&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDUwEO2BOPI/AAAAAAAABE8/nrGGLqFV0ro/s1600/DSCF3638.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDUwEO2BOPI/AAAAAAAABE8/nrGGLqFV0ro/s320/DSCF3638.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491348169910466802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Don't mind the blur...Sigh...but keep in mind that hand looking thing to the right of Caden.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDUwEku6gwI/AAAAAAAABFE/6yZES9mSJIA/s1600/DSCF3640.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDUwEku6gwI/AAAAAAAABFE/6yZES9mSJIA/s320/DSCF3640.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491348175786246914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is Dan explaining to anyone who will listen that the hand looking thing, and the petrogliphs were not left by the Indians, but instead were left by Aliens, as evidenced by the hand looking thing with suction cups for finger tips.  Sometimes...he gets in really weird moods.  No, he does not believe in Alien Conspiracy's.  He's just weird sometimes.  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDUwjkFoF7I/AAAAAAAABFU/Eqk1LPkKgaA/s1600/DSCF3645.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDUwjkFoF7I/AAAAAAAABFU/Eqk1LPkKgaA/s320/DSCF3645.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491348708189018034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This looks like a tree to me, but according to Dan it's the hand of an Alien (actually, the better hand is in the picture with Caden).  Sure sweetheart.  Sure.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDUwi9gookI/AAAAAAAABFM/xscAm5zoWJc/s1600/DSCF3644.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDUwi9gookI/AAAAAAAABFM/xscAm5zoWJc/s320/DSCF3644.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491348697833316930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;All the kids (minus Cole, who already sat for one picture, and was done) plus the puppies.  No, they aren't ours.  No we aren't getting any.  Did I mention we no longer have chickens?  Although, today Kember asked if we could get a bird or a hamster.  Sigh.  The fish are still alive though.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDUwj_X8asI/AAAAAAAABFc/IHdXyrGa2Sw/s1600/DSCF3655.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDUwj_X8asI/AAAAAAAABFc/IHdXyrGa2Sw/s320/DSCF3655.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491348715513604802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We hiked a bit further and came to a really sandy area.  The kids entertained themselves by playing in the sand or jumping off really high rocks.  Caden is really proud of his little castle, and got mad at me for taking the picture because it wasn't done yet.  Sorry Bud.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDUwx4mlmoI/AAAAAAAABFk/UIaGCylzYXI/s1600/DSCF3663.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDUwx4mlmoI/AAAAAAAABFk/UIaGCylzYXI/s320/DSCF3663.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491348954214144642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Unable to cover other people with sand, Cole did the next best thing.  He dumped it on himself, over and over again, and laughed every time he did it.  It was really funny, and really cute.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDUwyYIj6TI/AAAAAAAABFs/ltQLSpC-1lI/s1600/DSCF3668.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDUwyYIj6TI/AAAAAAAABFs/ltQLSpC-1lI/s320/DSCF3668.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491348962678139186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We got done hiking (my kids did pretty well with minimal complaining.  It helps to have their friends along that are little mountain goats) and headed to Ginger's parents farm to collect chicken eggs.  But really the kids just played on the trampoline, and Dan admired the yard.  Cole loved the freedom he had to just roam around and explore things.  Then we left and got frozen yogurt at the health food store.  We went home, took naps and then got ready for our dinner that night.  Dan went all out with curry, macaroni pie, and stewed chicken.  I made a salad and rice.  Ginger brought over corn on the cob, and every one tried Caribbean food.  Then we all loaded up and the Pelton's took us swimming.  It was awesome.  We were only there for an hour because they closed at 9 (but that's two hours after bed time anyway), but Kember was taught more swimming from her friends, and Caden got a little braver as well.  Cole has no fear, which freaks me out, but he enjoyed himself until he turned blue and started to shiver.  It was a very good busy day.  We should do more things like that.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-9141759408528950818?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/9141759408528950818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=9141759408528950818&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/9141759408528950818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/9141759408528950818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2010/07/part-ii-4th-of-july.html' title='Part II (4th of July)'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDUwDsn07DI/AAAAAAAABE0/TLMVOvuo6L8/s72-c/DSCF3636.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-3802345258965897255</id><published>2010-07-06T21:26:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-07-06T22:36:02.015-06:00</updated><title type='text'>4th of July...3 days of fun</title><content type='html'>I'm really tired, so this probably isn't the time to do this, but if I don't do it now it won't get done and then my mom and sisters will nag me about updating my blog (hehehe, I love it, that just means they actually read it...and truth be told, I'm writing this now because Dan said, "Why don't you update your blog?"  Oh, okay).Our 4th of July started on the 3rd.  It was awesome.  I got up early (for me) and picked up a Bountiful Basket for my friend who was out of town...which got me thinking that I should probably start ordering my own.  Anyway.  Got home and got the kids starting on their breakfast.  Do you know how long it takes to get my kids to eat things?  And breakfast is the easy meal...they one they actually like...but it takes them hours!  They eat, get down and do something, come back for a bite or two and then they are off again.  It's annoying, but whatever.  I hurried them along because the parade started at 8, and it was 7:30.  For some reason (maybe it's that I really don't find great enjoyment out of parades) we always have the worst luck at parades.  We never sit in the right spot and my kids never get candy thrown at them.  This year we were at the very end of the parade (didn't know that till after it was over) and on the opposite corner from where the entries turned to be done.  So if they actually had stuff left they started to turn before they got to my kids. Caden asked me why no one would throw him any candy.  Oops...sorry bud.  Maybe next year we'll sit at the start of the parade.  And just randomly...What happened to floats?  Really...I think there was only one float in this parade.  I'm not so into cars, so that does nothing for me, but it would enjoy seeing a nicely done up float.  Are they really expensive?  They aren't that hard to make.  But I digress again.  After the parade was over I decided we were going to have our own.  So we ran to the dollar store to pick up some stuff for the days activities and also to a firework stand to get some fireworks.  I had actually forgotten all about fireworks this year, but I'm glad Dan remembered and had us get some. When we got home we started to decorate the kids bikes for our own little parade (that lasted all of two minutes...but it was fun anyway).Dan decorated Cole's bike...or Cole depending on which way you look at it.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDP2rcxPvzI/AAAAAAAABB8/CT0TL26aPHA/s1600/DSCF3570.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDP2rcxPvzI/AAAAAAAABB8/CT0TL26aPHA/s320/DSCF3570.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491003597012320050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDP2sX4pz3I/AAAAAAAABCE/SyzlAob9co0/s1600/DSCF3572.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDP2sX4pz3I/AAAAAAAABCE/SyzlAob9co0/s320/DSCF3572.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491003612881080178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Kember and Caden worked hard to decorate their own bikes.  They were quite particular how they wanted things, and where they wanted things.  I wanted to put loads of streamers and sparkly stuff everywhere, but they wouldn't let me.  They only thing they let me do was the taping, and that's only because they can't do it.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDP3ORy8-7I/AAAAAAAABCM/xS0U77U7xac/s1600/DSCF3576.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDP3ORy8-7I/AAAAAAAABCM/xS0U77U7xac/s320/DSCF3576.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491004195362110386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDP3O0edQqI/AAAAAAAABCU/UvD7CweaG4E/s1600/DSCF3573.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDP3O0edQqI/AAAAAAAABCU/UvD7CweaG4E/s320/DSCF3573.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491004204671386274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I then gave them loud noise maker thingys and we lined up to start our parade. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDP4ZivAJyI/AAAAAAAABCc/Mk3iFk_B0xs/s1600/DSCF3577.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDP4ZivAJyI/AAAAAAAABCc/Mk3iFk_B0xs/s320/DSCF3577.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491005488399132450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Oh, I forgot...the kids had to run in side for Lloyd and little Lloyd to come and watch them (a large stuffed dog, and a little stuffed dog).&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDP4t9nEC_I/AAAAAAAABCk/6YODG3j2QwI/s1600/DSCF3581.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDP4t9nEC_I/AAAAAAAABCk/6YODG3j2QwI/s320/DSCF3581.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491005839210974194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDP4uxzo8oI/AAAAAAAABC0/UqjjBiucBwA/s1600/DSCF3584.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDP4uxzo8oI/AAAAAAAABC0/UqjjBiucBwA/s320/DSCF3584.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491005853222367874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDP4ucrqyyI/AAAAAAAABCs/nOmMA3boDVE/s1600/DSCF3583.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDP4ucrqyyI/AAAAAAAABCs/nOmMA3boDVE/s320/DSCF3583.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491005847551789858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Like I said.  It lasted about two minutes until the kids were done with the parade.  Next year I'll plan ahead and invite some friends over so it lasts a little longer and is more of an actual parade. But we were still ready for fun, so out came our dollar store finds and into our swimming suits we went!  Water fight!  But my kids style since they don't like to get wet (sigh).  We used squirt bottles and water balloons, but the water balloons were mostly for either 1-throwing at mom or 2-throwing at the wall and watching them pop.  Dan kindly filled them all up while we got ready.  Then we all went at each other with squirt bottles.  Ooo, and here's where I get frustrated with the pictures.  There is this blurry spot on EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM! I thought my view finder just had a finger print or something on it, but I realized (on the 5th of July) that it was my lens that had the spot on it...probably from our water fight....sigh...well, don't mind the blur.  Cole had a time trying to figure things out, and mostly just squirted himself on accident (but it was sooo funny).  Caden got upset if anyone squirted him, but we all did it anyway (hey, it's a water fight...what's the point?  You are going to get wet).  Dan attacked me, and the kids all attacked Dan to save Mom.  Then they decided to "wash his hair" and Dan sat down and let the kids squirt him in the head while he tried to get Cole to squirt me, but Cole had the water bottle facing the wrong way and kept squirting himself.  Good times...good times.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDP8bcdflGI/AAAAAAAABDs/BBHmsa0ngP0/s1600/DSCF3602.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDP8bcdflGI/AAAAAAAABDs/BBHmsa0ngP0/s320/DSCF3602.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491009919121331298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDP8a0-_xRI/AAAAAAAABDk/q32l0wQRKTo/s1600/DSCF3600.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDP8a0-_xRI/AAAAAAAABDk/q32l0wQRKTo/s320/DSCF3600.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491009908524434706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDP8KhZ9p2I/AAAAAAAABDc/D8YiHn4BNdw/s1600/DSCF3591.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDP8KhZ9p2I/AAAAAAAABDc/D8YiHn4BNdw/s320/DSCF3591.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491009628390926178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDP8J1JAulI/AAAAAAAABDM/C2i4oFP4m2k/s1600/DSCF3587.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDP8J1JAulI/AAAAAAAABDM/C2i4oFP4m2k/s320/DSCF3587.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491009616508664402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;           &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDP8KdmIG-I/AAAAAAAABDU/ryaK9ZqLjPo/s1600/DSCF3588.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDP8KdmIG-I/AAAAAAAABDU/ryaK9ZqLjPo/s320/DSCF3588.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491009627368201186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDP7UJVfFBI/AAAAAAAABC8/z5VQBx1H3nA/s1600/DSCF3590.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDP7UJVfFBI/AAAAAAAABC8/z5VQBx1H3nA/s320/DSCF3590.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491008694216758290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDP7UiMhFvI/AAAAAAAABDE/UWtz6WVPBi8/s1600/DSCF3601.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDP7UiMhFvI/AAAAAAAABDE/UWtz6WVPBi8/s320/DSCF3601.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491008700890027762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After this it was about lunch time and quiet time so we chilled around the house until it was time to get ready for our evening activities.  Kember got fun patriotic nail polish, a crown to wear in her hair, and fun hair....Caden got face paint.  Cole got nothing, but in my defense, he really didn't mind one bit.  We were going to go to a party that had something to do with Dan's work, but Dan got called out and didn't make it back in time.  Luckily our friends made it back from their mini-vacation and called to see if we'd like to get together for fireworks.  Yes, please.  We played with bubbles while waiting for Dan to get home.  These are a few of my favorites. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDQAQPkjzdI/AAAAAAAABEE/tXkKkx0MTCo/s1600/DSCF3611.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDQAQPkjzdI/AAAAAAAABEE/tXkKkx0MTCo/s320/DSCF3611.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491014124729257426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDQAPhHPd6I/AAAAAAAABD8/ynTK5AWPZjc/s1600/DSCF3610.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDQAPhHPd6I/AAAAAAAABD8/ynTK5AWPZjc/s320/DSCF3610.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491014112258258850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDQAPCvvgRI/AAAAAAAABD0/k99rmyFsEQo/s1600/DSCF3608.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDQAPCvvgRI/AAAAAAAABD0/k99rmyFsEQo/s320/DSCF3608.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491014104106631442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And if you are wondering why the weird one of Cole is one of my favorites, it's because every time I get the camera out now, regardless of if I'm taking a picture of him or not, he gets that funny look and says, "Cheese!".  It doesn't make for cute pictures, but it sure makes me laugh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We hung out until it was dark enough for fireworks, and had fun setting them off and playing with them.  The kids loved the sparklers, until they got burned by them.  Sigh.  Kember had a spark land on her feet (I told her to leave her shoes on) and Cole touched the hot part after the sparkler went out.  Ah well...live and learn I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDQC5337gqI/AAAAAAAABEc/90rS6APJutM/s1600/DSCF3631.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDQC5337gqI/AAAAAAAABEc/90rS6APJutM/s320/DSCF3631.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491017038945813154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDQC5rncwHI/AAAAAAAABEU/Ep_QVJdqHFw/s1600/DSCF3628.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDQC5rncwHI/AAAAAAAABEU/Ep_QVJdqHFw/s320/DSCF3628.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491017035655463026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDQC5DpzApI/AAAAAAAABEM/IUthb4ndgdw/s1600/DSCF3627.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDQC5DpzApI/AAAAAAAABEM/IUthb4ndgdw/s320/DSCF3627.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491017024927892114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Well, anyway, I'm too tired to finish this, so look for Part II later :)  Happy 4th of July, from our family to yours!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDQD1fDsnyI/AAAAAAAABEk/Ha-swo9nH6I/s1600/DSCF3630.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDQD1fDsnyI/AAAAAAAABEk/Ha-swo9nH6I/s320/DSCF3630.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491018063076433698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDQD1x9w5XI/AAAAAAAABEs/DAci3VrGeuw/s1600/DSCF3632.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDQD1x9w5XI/AAAAAAAABEs/DAci3VrGeuw/s320/DSCF3632.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491018068151821682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-3802345258965897255?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/3802345258965897255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=3802345258965897255&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/3802345258965897255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/3802345258965897255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2010/07/4th-of-july3-days-of-fun.html' title='4th of July...3 days of fun'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TDP2rcxPvzI/AAAAAAAABB8/CT0TL26aPHA/s72-c/DSCF3570.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-8850611546155528196</id><published>2010-06-28T14:06:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-06-28T14:17:24.005-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Not too Shabby</title><content type='html'>I was able to get all of this (plus one more bag of M&amp;amp;M's...the kids were really patient and needed a treat)&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TCkA4-qXVEI/AAAAAAAABBw/vVOk5afnodQ/s1600/DSCN1275.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TCkA4-qXVEI/AAAAAAAABBw/vVOk5afnodQ/s320/DSCN1275.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5487918599821022274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;for $3.95.  Not bad eh?  It actually would have been better, but apparently my math skills were way, way off.  The people at Rite Aid (this one at least) are normally very friendly and willing to take the time to help me fix my math skills, but there were tons of costumers today (it was more crowded than I've ever seen it) and one of the ladies was very cranky towards the cashiers so I felt really bad for them and tried to hurry through my transactions quickly...even though that still didn't go quite like I planned (hence the two bags of M&amp;amp;M's), but I was friendly and polite! :) So basically everything was .28 cents.  Oh, and I have $1 UP reward to use on my next transaction, plus I'm getting a $3 SCR in the mail, and I have a $7.50 SCR to use.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-8850611546155528196?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8850611546155528196/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=8850611546155528196&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/8850611546155528196'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/8850611546155528196'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2010/06/not-too-shabby.html' title='Not too Shabby'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TCkA4-qXVEI/AAAAAAAABBw/vVOk5afnodQ/s72-c/DSCN1275.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-4426724369891886726</id><published>2010-06-08T08:51:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-06-08T08:55:02.467-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Did I mention...?</title><content type='html'>Oh, ya...about a month or so ago I got a new calling.  Funny eh?  Guess what it is this time.  Yep, I'm in the Primary Presidency.  Hahahahahaha...I'm the secretary.  It's awesome, and I still help out in Nursery when they need it (and surprisingly enough, I do love it).  I just thought it was so funny when the counselor asked if he could come over again one Sunday morning.  Again?  I thought...well...maybe he's going to release me because he found out I was pregnant.   Nope.   I started laughing when he asked me.  And I never got released from Nursery either.  Well, the new presidency is fun to work with, and it will be good.  So there you have it.  A new calling...again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-4426724369891886726?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4426724369891886726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=4426724369891886726&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/4426724369891886726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/4426724369891886726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2010/06/did-i-mention.html' title='Did I mention...?'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-1087465281876754880</id><published>2010-06-02T22:10:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-06-02T22:11:05.754-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Drum Roll Please....</title><content type='html'>Baby number 4 is due in November.  Thank you for your time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-1087465281876754880?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1087465281876754880/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=1087465281876754880&amp;isPopup=true' title='22 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/1087465281876754880'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/1087465281876754880'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2010/06/drum-roll-please.html' title='Drum Roll Please....'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>22</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-8463828380349516597</id><published>2010-05-30T13:20:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-05-30T20:43:21.500-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Cruise Time!</title><content type='html'>St Thomas&lt;br /&gt;And this picture is why we came to the Caribbean.  Isn't that beautiful?  It was one of the most beautiful beaches I've even seen, and did I have my swimming suit with me?  No, I did not...grrrr.  Actually, it was kind of funny, you had to walk through a sort of trash pit to get to this beach, but it sure was worth it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TAAVSzF1TdI/AAAAAAAABA4/rrOQCXFK6YI/s1600/St+Thomas+May+17,+2010+%2815%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TAAVSzF1TdI/AAAAAAAABA4/rrOQCXFK6YI/s320/St+Thomas+May+17,+2010+%2815%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476400559579024850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TAAVSYa9TDI/AAAAAAAABAw/37ItcsKFSUA/s1600/St+Thomas+5-17-2010+%2816%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TAAVSYa9TDI/AAAAAAAABAw/37ItcsKFSUA/s320/St+Thomas+5-17-2010+%2816%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476400552419871794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I don't know if someone placed all these here, or if they just washed up on the beach, but there were mounds of them...I just thought Rorie did a great job with the picture and wanted to show you all!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TAAT85_aJYI/AAAAAAAABAI/TeMFSkGrm24/s1600/St+Thomas+5-17-2010+%2824%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TAAT85_aJYI/AAAAAAAABAI/TeMFSkGrm24/s320/St+Thomas+5-17-2010+%2824%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476399083962377602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Ahhh! Nate! You're on the wrong side of the road!  Oh, wait...no, go ahead and drive on the left side.  He actually did a great job driving.  The frustrating bit was that there are no street signs, so even though we had a map that said, Turn on Such and Such, there was no sign to say, You're on Such and Such.  We eventually found everything we wanted to see though.  On this island there were basically only two main roads that went everywhere, so if you drove long enough, you got there!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TAAUkf-GY2I/AAAAAAAABAg/43q7NhGU-N8/s1600/St+Thomas+May+17,+2010+%287%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TAAUkf-GY2I/AAAAAAAABAg/43q7NhGU-N8/s320/St+Thomas+May+17,+2010+%287%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476399764172333922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Standing in front of a statue of Blackbeard the pirate.  This apparently was his castle.  We drove up and read on one flag, "The beatings will continue until morale improves."  Okay then....love to have this guy as a boss.  "I'm happy already, OKAY!"  It was actually pretty cool, and they had loads of other buildings to see...I can't remember why they were cool/important, but one of them was an Amber museum.  Did you know that Amber isn't just brownish in color?  It is also blue or green depending on volcanic ash or water.  Caribbean amber is green, and it is beautiful.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TAAUkwvi-LI/AAAAAAAABAo/ifTlk-L7YIQ/s1600/St+Thomas+May+17,+2010+%289%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 239px; height: 318px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TAAUkwvi-LI/AAAAAAAABAo/ifTlk-L7YIQ/s320/St+Thomas+May+17,+2010+%289%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476399768674695346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Random picture that I can't seem to turn the right way.  Whatever.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TAAUj3p_UgI/AAAAAAAABAY/89Xr3TIV2-g/s1600/St+Thomas+5-17-2010+%2848%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TAAUj3p_UgI/AAAAAAAABAY/89Xr3TIV2-g/s320/St+Thomas+5-17-2010+%2848%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476399753350566402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Ah...here is an amber fountain.  Okay, then.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TAAT9nw4R_I/AAAAAAAABAQ/PPkO3mDt0SA/s1600/St+Thomas+5-17-2010+%2828%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TAAT9nw4R_I/AAAAAAAABAQ/PPkO3mDt0SA/s320/St+Thomas+5-17-2010+%2828%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476399096249468914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We drove and drove and drove to find the awesome look-out spot or something that was supposed to be really really cool...and, nothing.  It was closed down and boarded up, so we were looking through a hole, and Rorie decided that a rear-end shot was in order.  Should I be worried that Nate's rear is smaller than mine?  It's just the angle and the color of shorts...right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TAAT8T0zuoI/AAAAAAAABAA/90IBfCFYblA/s1600/St+Thomas+5-17-2010+%2825%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TAAT8T0zuoI/AAAAAAAABAA/90IBfCFYblA/s320/St+Thomas+5-17-2010+%2825%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476399073717369474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Drakes bench.  Some guy named Drake used to keep a look out up here (I think is the significance of this...I was tired, so we just sat and enjoyed the view).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TAASowWS1YI/AAAAAAAAA_4/V1FOT0MGoNs/s1600/St+Thomas+5-17-2010+%2855%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TAASowWS1YI/AAAAAAAAA_4/V1FOT0MGoNs/s320/St+Thomas+5-17-2010+%2855%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476397638265001346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;While this was probably one of my favorite days on the cruise, I will dub St. Thomas as the day of stairs.  These stairs for instance were part of the Blackbeard tour.  They dubbed them "99 stairs" and had no explanation what-so-ever for them.  And actually, there were over a hundred...104 I think (maybe 102).  Seriously though..we walked up a lot of stairs that day...not down so many, but up a bunch.  That random side-ways picture of me on stairs...38 of 'em.  We were all very very sore the next couple days from these stairs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TAASBE5jWKI/AAAAAAAAA_w/cPCa_iTploI/s1600/St+Thomas+May+17,+2010+%2811%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TAASBE5jWKI/AAAAAAAAA_w/cPCa_iTploI/s320/St+Thomas+May+17,+2010+%2811%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476396956586825890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Don't let the look on his face fool you.  Dan is in heaven...he is eating Roti.  Goal number one accomplished.  This thing was huge!  And actually rather tasty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TAASAyh_q-I/AAAAAAAAA_o/F-uZmItKego/s1600/St+Thomas+May+17,+2010+%2847%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TAASAyh_q-I/AAAAAAAAA_o/F-uZmItKego/s320/St+Thomas+May+17,+2010+%2847%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476396951656180706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;See, proof that I tried it too.  Rorie and I split one they were so monstrous.  The guy in the shop (obviously not a tourist shop) seemed a little surprised to see us there.  Then he looked to see if we finished everything.  He gave Rorie and me suckers afterwords.  I bet they laugh at people like me a lot, but hey, what can you do?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TAASAYacSTI/AAAAAAAAA_g/tx_o1uaIB_4/s1600/St+Thomas+May+17,+2010+%2846%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TAASAYacSTI/AAAAAAAAA_g/tx_o1uaIB_4/s320/St+Thomas+May+17,+2010+%2846%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476396944645179698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After more stairs and the end of a tour some guide tried to sell us drinks.  Alcohol is huge in the Caribbean (okay, probably every where, but I live a sheltered life, okay).  He was shocked when we said we didn't drink, but finally told us that he could make a drink with no alcohol in it.  Everyone ('cept me...party pooper) needed refreshment so they ordered some pina colada thingy.  I'm sure it helped cool everyone down with all the stairs we climbed. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dominica&lt;br /&gt;Rorie and I woke up that morning an did a Pilates class on the ship.  It was kind of embarrassing to be the only people there in a glass room surrounded by all the people working out, but hey...what can you do.&lt;br /&gt;Then we headed off to the Wacky Rollers Adventure Course.  Rorie was insistent that we do a zip line tour.  Have I mentioned I don't like heights?  No, actually, this was awesome and a lot of fun.  Rorie even did a Tarzan jump onto another net.  It looked awesome.  She was the first to go, and she made it the first time.  Lots of people had to try a couple times.  I'm not explaining it well, but it was fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_74f8sxmYI/AAAAAAAAA_Y/KMAsG0wUkJg/s1600/Dominica+May+18,+2010+%2815%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_74f8sxmYI/AAAAAAAAA_Y/KMAsG0wUkJg/s320/Dominica+May+18,+2010+%2815%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476087424682662274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_74fpky_gI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/X_qhrbQWzV0/s1600/Dominica+5-18-2010+%2810%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_74fpky_gI/AAAAAAAAA_Q/X_qhrbQWzV0/s320/Dominica+5-18-2010+%2810%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476087419548925442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_74fLssRyI/AAAAAAAAA_I/b9VQZuuXEAU/s1600/Dominica+5-18-2010+%289%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_74fLssRyI/AAAAAAAAA_I/b9VQZuuXEAU/s320/Dominica+5-18-2010+%289%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476087411528976162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_74BUUPZKI/AAAAAAAAA-4/sca4VPcOFUw/s1600/Dominica+5-18-2010+%2816%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_74BUUPZKI/AAAAAAAAA-4/sca4VPcOFUw/s320/Dominica+5-18-2010+%2816%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476086898446263458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;More narrow streets, with more crazy drivers...This I learned on our cruise.  No matter the island, regardless of laws...drivers do what they want when they want.  It actually works out pretty well, but scared me to death.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_74BzXye0I/AAAAAAAAA_A/ssPgAL25vW0/s1600/Dominica+May+18,+2010+%2819%29+fixed.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_74BzXye0I/AAAAAAAAA_A/ssPgAL25vW0/s320/Dominica+May+18,+2010+%2819%29+fixed.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476086906782645058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;They had a formal night a couple times on the cruise.  This was our first one.  We opted to go for not so formal, but more churchy clothes.  I don't know though...next time I might see if I still fit into any formals.  Why not dress up?  Oh, wait...cause I don't like to.  But everyone in a while to feel fancy...yeah...next time, I'll do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Barbados&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_71nDpW63I/AAAAAAAAA-g/Bx54rN9p7zM/s1600/Barbados+May+19,+2010+%287%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_71nDpW63I/AAAAAAAAA-g/Bx54rN9p7zM/s320/Barbados+May+19,+2010+%287%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476084248271580018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Probably the most fun thing we did (and we had a lot of fun!)  We took a catamaran cruise and snorkeled and relaxed and it was just awesome!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_71mpvcK5I/AAAAAAAAA-Y/zHO6VZWnCtI/s1600/Barbados+May+19,+2010+%2825%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_71mpvcK5I/AAAAAAAAA-Y/zHO6VZWnCtI/s320/Barbados+May+19,+2010+%2825%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476084241317768082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We stopped at a beach like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_71mJO4MeI/AAAAAAAAA-Q/OMFm-4Kjs_o/s1600/Barbados+May+19,+2010+%2815%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_71mJO4MeI/AAAAAAAAA-Q/OMFm-4Kjs_o/s320/Barbados+May+19,+2010+%2815%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476084232591258082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We sat on top of a boat like this. (Are you loving Nate's Hawaii shirts...that's how we found these guys if we ever got separated)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_702_9PuOI/AAAAAAAAA-I/MGu7AgA87Uo/s1600/Barbados+May+19,+2010+%2816%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_702_9PuOI/AAAAAAAAA-I/MGu7AgA87Uo/s320/Barbados+May+19,+2010+%2816%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476083422647531746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Snorkeled looking like this.  Yes, I snorkeled.  This is big for me actually.  I hate having me face in water, and I hate not being able to choose how I breathe.  It was fun though.  We saw (or, I would have seen had I been able to have my glasses) a sunken ship, loads of fish, lots of sea turtles, and some flat fish that disappeared in the sand when we got close.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_702VZ-VwI/AAAAAAAAA-A/1RsvSwWq_pg/s1600/Barbados+5-19-2010+%2810%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_702VZ-VwI/AAAAAAAAA-A/1RsvSwWq_pg/s320/Barbados+5-19-2010+%2810%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476083411225302786" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We eat lunch like this.  I try fish for the first time and planton (or something...it's like a banana).  My first bite of fish I was thinking...this isn't bad.  My second bite I thought...whoa...this is fishy.  And that's all I tried.  But hey...I tried!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_701_fI64I/AAAAAAAAA94/TfdvQ_5nWGM/s1600/Barbados+5-19-2010+%283%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_701_fI64I/AAAAAAAAA94/TfdvQ_5nWGM/s320/Barbados+5-19-2010+%283%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476083405341387650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We protected ourselves from the sun like this.  Dan squirting me with sunscreen...boy does it smell, and it didn't work all that great.  Rorie got fried, and everyone else got a little burnt.  I do have to admit that one of my goals was to come back the same pasty white that I left here from (even though I did try tanning before I left...no, don't ask me to explain...eventually I just felt stupid and stopped trying).  It didn't work, but I also didn't get burned really bad either.  The only bad thing about this stop was that we didn't see any of the island...at all.  We just skirted around the coast.  I'm not complaining, and I wouldn't have changed what we did (cause it was awesome!) but I would have liked to have seen a little bit of Barbados.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_729emI6OI/AAAAAAAAA-o/9DTdSBKtnFg/s1600/Barbados+May+19,+2010+%2830%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_729emI6OI/AAAAAAAAA-o/9DTdSBKtnFg/s320/Barbados+May+19,+2010+%2830%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476085732974586082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We took a country line dance class that night on the boat.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_7298GGhAI/AAAAAAAAA-w/4_1LMCcY2dA/s1600/Barbados+May+19,+2010+%2831%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_7298GGhAI/AAAAAAAAA-w/4_1LMCcY2dA/s320/Barbados+May+19,+2010+%2831%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476085740893275138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The entertainment was no so good (like, not worth it at all) so most nights we found ourselves in the library playing cards and filling out a crossword puzzle.  I actually had loads of fun doing this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;St Lucia&lt;br /&gt;This was kind of a random island...how we did what we did I mean.  We were supposed to hike a volcano, but I kind of hurt myself (no, nothing serious...just me complaining) and didn't think I would be able to do it.  So, when we got to port we were looking at the tourist info booth and another couple approached us and asked if we wanted to go with them on their tour...they need 4 more people.  They said that the people they eat dinner with really recommended this guy named Albert.  So, we decided why not...and toured St Lucia with Albert and two other couples we didn't know.  They were from Germany area (I think) and Puerto Rico, but living in Miami.   &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_7zq5SDWaI/AAAAAAAAA9w/290INLUWEgQ/s1600/St+Lucia+May+20,+2010+%2852%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_7zq5SDWaI/AAAAAAAAA9w/290INLUWEgQ/s320/St+Lucia+May+20,+2010+%2852%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476082115185695138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We saw a waterfall that you could get in an play in (but again, no swimming suit...really, you think I'd learn)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_7zqZg073I/AAAAAAAAA9o/yNpbcNq1cW4/s1600/St+Lucia+May+20,+2010+%2844%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_7zqZg073I/AAAAAAAAA9o/yNpbcNq1cW4/s320/St+Lucia+May+20,+2010+%2844%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476082106657730418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Went to a drive through volcano with hot sulfer springs.  I actually really liked this tour, but the others thought it wasn't much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_7zp4W_jII/AAAAAAAAA9g/-0akYrOhMNA/s1600/DSCN1118.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_7zp4W_jII/AAAAAAAAA9g/-0akYrOhMNA/s320/DSCN1118.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476082097758112898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Saw the Pitons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_7y9CeNT9I/AAAAAAAAA9Y/VuhI1-n5WPQ/s1600/DSCN1115.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_7y9CeNT9I/AAAAAAAAA9Y/VuhI1-n5WPQ/s320/DSCN1115.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476081327378616274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Tried banana ketchup.  Yep...banana.  Not bad actually.  I mean, not something I'd have as a staple at my house, but not bad.  Cool enough for a picture anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_7y8-OAH_I/AAAAAAAAA9Q/EB0bgBKK6I0/s1600/DSCN1098.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_7y8-OAH_I/AAAAAAAAA9Q/EB0bgBKK6I0/s320/DSCN1098.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476081326236901362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Saw a Banana Plantation.  Did you know that banana trees only produce fruit once...then they are chopped down.  I had no idea.  Random eh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_7y8X_WyiI/AAAAAAAAA9I/8T-eZohdTIM/s1600/DSCN1092.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_7y8X_WyiI/AAAAAAAAA9I/8T-eZohdTIM/s320/DSCN1092.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476081315974924834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Saw a wood carving place.  I would have loved to have bought some statue or carving...but they were a little out of our budget....and what would I have done with it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;St Kitts&lt;br /&gt;Was probably one of the prettiest islands we went to (that we saw)...either that or just the cleanest.  They won their independence about 26 years ago, and I wonder if that makes a difference.  Maybe they have more pride in their country so they take better care of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_7uUQWjfVI/AAAAAAAAA74/VCwSnCXr8pE/s1600/DSCN1136.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_7uUQWjfVI/AAAAAAAAA74/VCwSnCXr8pE/s320/DSCN1136.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476076228683464018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Another one of Dan's fun surprises...Ting.  A carbonated grapefruit juice.  Actually, it's really good and slightly addicting (for me anyway).  He laughed when he saw it and we all had to try it.  Yummy.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_7uVf8LAUI/AAAAAAAAA8I/ccbTvkWacCY/s1600/DSCN1150.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_7uVf8LAUI/AAAAAAAAA8I/ccbTvkWacCY/s320/DSCN1150.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476076250047643970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A fortress.  Cool eh.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_7uwQ_hWpI/AAAAAAAAA8Y/owGZmbgJuew/s1600/DSCN1171.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_7uwQ_hWpI/AAAAAAAAA8Y/owGZmbgJuew/s320/DSCN1171.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476076709891627666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Silly pictures that you have to take, but never look good in.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_7uvzjcroI/AAAAAAAAA8Q/xFbOKQVKrAY/s1600/DSCN1169.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_7uvzjcroI/AAAAAAAAA8Q/xFbOKQVKrAY/s320/DSCN1169.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476076701989252738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_7uU4uAVrI/AAAAAAAAA8A/3-_Xro-ChxY/s1600/DSCN1141.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_7uU4uAVrI/AAAAAAAAA8A/3-_Xro-ChxY/s320/DSCN1141.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476076239519241906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Dan and Nate standing guard (at least I'm assuming it's a guard house and not an outhouse)&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_7vXDXz_8I/AAAAAAAAA8o/wQgHI-20f_8/s1600/St+Kitts+5-21-2010+%2837%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_7vXDXz_8I/AAAAAAAAA8o/wQgHI-20f_8/s320/St+Kitts+5-21-2010+%2837%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476077376250314690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_7uw6yF55I/AAAAAAAAA8g/vmsmiIuOvXg/s1600/DSCN1172.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_7uw6yF55I/AAAAAAAAA8g/vmsmiIuOvXg/s320/DSCN1172.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476076721109591954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;and this I was surprised to see.  There were feral cats everywhere.  I went expecting dogs.  Dan said on his mission there were millions of random dogs everywhere.  But on the islands we went to...feral cats.&lt;span style="text-decoration: underline;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_7vXvvqOHI/AAAAAAAAA8w/h4WgX0cO5zI/s1600/St+Kitts+May+21,+2010+%283%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_7vXvvqOHI/AAAAAAAAA8w/h4WgX0cO5zI/s320/St+Kitts+May+21,+2010+%283%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476077388161497202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Oh I can't remember what this is called, but these are some steps for how they get the picture made...drawing, wax, dying, repeat the process.  It's pretty cool.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_7vYL0RJ4I/AAAAAAAAA84/Sm6RkhJo-i0/s1600/St+Kitts+May+21,+2010+%2818%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_7vYL0RJ4I/AAAAAAAAA84/Sm6RkhJo-i0/s320/St+Kitts+May+21,+2010+%2818%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476077395697018754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;An authentic lunch (at least I think it was authentic..you should have seen the shack it was made in) at the beach.  pretty tasty...especially the carrot, coconut raisin mixture.  I know..trying all sorts of things I normally wouldn't (can you tell I'm normally a really bland eater).&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_7vx0CgdjI/AAAAAAAAA9A/SEqul8Zwj9g/s1600/St+Kitts+May+21,+2010+%2822%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_7vx0CgdjI/AAAAAAAAA9A/SEqul8Zwj9g/s320/St+Kitts+May+21,+2010+%2822%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476077835990890034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Beautiful beaches that we lounged around on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;St Maarten started out, and I'll admit it...I was grumpy. I have a few reasons, only one of them good, but I was getting ready to come home.  Anyway, I didn't stay grumpy for long...it's kind of hard with the group we were in to stay grumpy.  In fact...I don't know if Rorie and Dan got grumpy at all...Nate and I both did, but we got over it quick.  So, we decided to rent a car again.  We figured...why not.  They drive of the right side of the road, and it was probably cheaper than taking a taxi everywhere.  Taxi's are nice since you get a built in tour guide, but sometimes it's nice to just got at it alone.  So, we ended the cruise how we started.  This time Dan drove.  The island is cut in half nationality wise.  Half is French, and half is Dutch.  I think we were all kind of done with the sight seeing stuff (except Rorie...it's a good thing she was there or we wouldn't have seen anything!), but we drove around a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_7pD-02-EI/AAAAAAAAA7Y/57ZnGyOUwgk/s1600/St+Maarten+May+22,+2010+%2812%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_7pD-02-EI/AAAAAAAAA7Y/57ZnGyOUwgk/s320/St+Maarten+May+22,+2010+%2812%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476070451542685762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Oh, this is me being a party poop and just sitting whilst the others explored.  And then I got over it. :)&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_7pmBAizqI/AAAAAAAAA7g/bGMfX6stvIY/s1600/St+Maarte,+May+22,2010.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_7pmBAizqI/AAAAAAAAA7g/bGMfX6stvIY/s320/St+Maarte,+May+22,2010.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476071036244119202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Now this was kind of cool.  At this beach these planes are landing just across the street, so they fly right over you...and I mean right over you.  Dan and Nate were directly beneath this one...Rorie and I opted for the side view.  Dan said it was quite a rush seeing that big machine heading straight for you.  And hey...look at the beautiful beach, right?&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_7pm42yHeI/AAAAAAAAA7w/w26uCDkymes/s1600/St+Maarten+May+22,+2010+%2822%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_7pm42yHeI/AAAAAAAAA7w/w26uCDkymes/s320/St+Maarten+May+22,+2010+%2822%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476071051235565026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The breads here were supposed to be fantastic.  We went at the wrong time of day and at this bakery they were basically out of everything, but we got these, and they were tasty.  I don't know about fantastic, but good anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_7pDAqliuI/AAAAAAAAA7I/ZJDr_aKoLJw/s1600/DSCN1204.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_7pDAqliuI/AAAAAAAAA7I/ZJDr_aKoLJw/s320/DSCN1204.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476070434856602338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Ah.  This is a favorite of mine.  Probably just because I look like I'm standing on the beach (I'm not) under a coconut tree.  But anyway.   Dan had a few goals this trip, and one of them was coconut water...yes, water, not milk.  Anyway, our last day and he found someone selling them off the side of the road!  I think he was the only one who really enjoyed it, but it was fun to try stuff he had on his mission.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_7pDu-FmrI/AAAAAAAAA7Q/AH9fXxxqjMk/s1600/DSCN1206.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S_7pDu-FmrI/AAAAAAAAA7Q/AH9fXxxqjMk/s320/DSCN1206.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476070447286426290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Dan and I wanted to end the day at the beach, so we turned in our rental car and headed back close to port where they had a beach and some shops.  Everyone (expect me...not hungry...at all) tried roti again, and then the guys debated whether or not to go out on the wave runners.  They decided it was too expensive...then decided to just do it, so out they went for a half hour.  Actually I think it was longer because I started to get really paranoid.  We were supposed to be back on the ship at 4:30, and our water taxi was looking like it was leaving, and the guys weren't back yet, and they weren't back yet...and Rorie told me to breath...and they weren't back yet, and they finally came, and I made Dan rush (without his shoes on) to the water taxi....and then we waited some more (for Rorie and Nate to get there, they weren't as paranoid as I was).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, it was an awesome trip.  We definitely would like to go on another cruise sometime...but we will probably try a different line...not Carnival.&lt;br /&gt;I'm very glad to be back home though, even though I enjoyed my vacation a whole heap.  Getting back wasn't so fun.  We docked in San Juan again (oh goody) and basically just waited...Oh, the best part though...after going through customs, or whatever we went through, the guy asked Dan if he was traveling alone.  Dan said, "Nope, me and my wife" and he pointed to me.  The guy looked at me...looked at my passport...looked at Dan...looked at me...and then said, "I'm sorry, but I have to ask...How old are you!?!"  Hahaha..it was awesome.  You should have seen his face when I told him 27, and his even funnier face when Dan said we had 3 kids at home.  It didn't make Dan feel all the great because the guy told him, "I thought you were going to say, 'Just me and my daughter.'"  Well, it certainly made my day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our plane flew out at 5 so we had loads of time.  We flew into Vegas about 11:30 (or 12:30 Utah time) and then drove straight up to Aurora to get the kids.  It was a loooonnnng day with not much sleep.  Caden is funny though...he keeps saying, "Mom!  We're like a family again!"  I tried to tell him that we aren't "like" a family, we "are" a family, but it's cuter how he says it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-8463828380349516597?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8463828380349516597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=8463828380349516597&amp;isPopup=true' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/8463828380349516597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/8463828380349516597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2010/05/cruise-time.html' title='Cruise Time!'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TAAVSzF1TdI/AAAAAAAABA4/rrOQCXFK6YI/s72-c/St+Thomas+May+17,+2010+%2815%29.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-5989044261851706500</id><published>2010-05-28T13:18:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-05-28T13:27:55.045-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Towel Animals</title><content type='html'>Okay, this was one of my favorite things on the cruise..coming into my room at night and getting greeted by these little guys.  Some of them though...what are they supposed to be? So, we are going to play a little game.  Label your answers 1-6 and tell me what you think they are.  Some are obvious, some are...well...anyway.  I'm going to assume they are all animals (although, if you ask me, one looks like a nun).  So, let me know what they are!  No prize, just the satisfaction of coming up with creative themes :)&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TAAYjiiPF3I/AAAAAAAABBg/Rv27dhQ3J-c/s1600/DSCN1195.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TAAYjiiPF3I/AAAAAAAABBg/Rv27dhQ3J-c/s320/DSCN1195.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476404145727412082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TAAYkF_a4HI/AAAAAAAABBo/XcD6PRpD6Ec/s1600/DSCN1213.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TAAYkF_a4HI/AAAAAAAABBo/XcD6PRpD6Ec/s320/DSCN1213.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476404155245060210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TAAX1WM91DI/AAAAAAAABBA/gNu8egPd3yM/s1600/St+Thomas+May+17,+2010.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TAAX1WM91DI/AAAAAAAABBA/gNu8egPd3yM/s320/St+Thomas+May+17,+2010.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476403352142992434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TAAYjMFzbJI/AAAAAAAABBY/xKNowblpfdA/s1600/DSCN1127.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TAAYjMFzbJI/AAAAAAAABBY/xKNowblpfdA/s320/DSCN1127.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476404139702578322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TAAX2HRD0bI/AAAAAAAABBI/kB9zL51KOlg/s1600/Dominica+May+18,+2010+%2816%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TAAX2HRD0bI/AAAAAAAABBI/kB9zL51KOlg/s320/Dominica+May+18,+2010+%2816%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476403365313499570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TAAX3p8Cn6I/AAAAAAAABBQ/_BAJW9yiPIE/s1600/DSCN1081.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TAAX3p8Cn6I/AAAAAAAABBQ/_BAJW9yiPIE/s320/DSCN1081.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476403391800450978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-5989044261851706500?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5989044261851706500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=5989044261851706500&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/5989044261851706500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/5989044261851706500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2010/05/towel-animals.html' title='Towel Animals'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/TAAYjiiPF3I/AAAAAAAABBg/Rv27dhQ3J-c/s72-c/DSCN1195.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-4158271210235164427</id><published>2010-05-03T09:15:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-05-03T09:33:18.070-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My baby girl's all grown up</title><content type='html'>*Loads of new posts...keep scrolling down :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kember just graduated from pre-school last Thursday.  I can't believe she starts Kindergarten this August.  Crazy crazy crazy.  She's loved preschool, and she's learned quite a bit.  It's fun to hear her read some words and sound out others.  Anyway, I won't bore you with a post, just lots of pictures because they are too cute not to post...little cap and gowns....too cute.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S97psCbw0BI/AAAAAAAAA5o/kTTye2Kc0Qc/s1600/DSCF3556.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S97psCbw0BI/AAAAAAAAA5o/kTTye2Kc0Qc/s320/DSCF3556.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467063940451192850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S97psgDz0SI/AAAAAAAAA5w/TCQWVA0Culg/s1600/DSCF3558.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S97psgDz0SI/AAAAAAAAA5w/TCQWVA0Culg/s320/DSCF3558.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467063948403790114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S97ptqNZJKI/AAAAAAAAA54/TDex_KxUOi4/s1600/DSCF3563.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S97ptqNZJKI/AAAAAAAAA54/TDex_KxUOi4/s320/DSCF3563.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467063968308208802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S97rJWUBNII/AAAAAAAAA6A/oDBOO-2qoak/s1600/DSCF3565.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S97rJWUBNII/AAAAAAAAA6A/oDBOO-2qoak/s320/DSCF3565.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467065543515255938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S97rJ-OLIuI/AAAAAAAAA6I/bo-AkAPxqaE/s1600/DSCN0967.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S97rJ-OLIuI/AAAAAAAAA6I/bo-AkAPxqaE/s320/DSCN0967.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467065554228159202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S97rKs0s1XI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/rz3jn3dnmo0/s1600/DSCN0969.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S97rKs0s1XI/AAAAAAAAA6Q/rz3jn3dnmo0/s320/DSCN0969.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467065566737782130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S97rfD9j8bI/AAAAAAAAA6Y/-Afp5IypX3A/s1600/DSCN0970.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S97rfD9j8bI/AAAAAAAAA6Y/-Afp5IypX3A/s320/DSCN0970.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467065916546347442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S97rfWGNTSI/AAAAAAAAA6g/l3i0eb-skOk/s1600/DSCN0973.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S97rfWGNTSI/AAAAAAAAA6g/l3i0eb-skOk/s320/DSCN0973.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467065921414450466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-4158271210235164427?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4158271210235164427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=4158271210235164427&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/4158271210235164427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/4158271210235164427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2010/05/my-baby-girls-all-grown-up.html' title='My baby girl&apos;s all grown up'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S97psCbw0BI/AAAAAAAAA5o/kTTye2Kc0Qc/s72-c/DSCF3556.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-7118516238822591562</id><published>2010-05-03T09:02:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-05-03T09:12:24.124-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday to me!</title><content type='html'>Okay, so my birthday was a while ago...but I didn't get this posted, and since I apparently like to toot my own horn, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!   27.....I don't feel like I'm 27.  Most of the younger couples in our ward I imagine all to be around my age...I was shocked to find out they were only 23 or 24.  They seemed so much more mature than I am.  Maybe if I start dressing more fashionably I'll feel older :)  Or maybe not!  Maybe some day I'll just have to grown up.  But 27 just seems sooo old.  26 isn't old, but 27 means I'm just not young anymore.  I mean considering I've been married for almost 7 years and have 3 kids, I realize that I'm not young anymore...but 27.  Well, here's to a good year anyway. &lt;br /&gt;My sisters birthday is the day before mine, and she lives close enough that we can get together more easily than the rest of the family, so on her birthday we met her and her husband in Mesquite to go out to dinner.  We were going to go to a movie too, but we misjudged the time difference and didn't think our babysitter would appreciate us not coming home till eleven on a school night (or her parents wouldn't appreciate it anyway).  So we went to Samurai 21.  The food wasn't the greatest, but the people and the food prep were great!  It's one of those places where they cook it in front of you with lots of fire and throwing things :) It was lots of fun.  On my birthday one of my friends bought me lunch and we had a picnic outside on my front lawn.  It was really sweet and I really appreciated it.  Dan made a cute poster for me and of course he made dinner (I'm not cooking on my birthday).  He got me a Kindle too, and I'm so excited about it.  So excited.  The only trouble is we both want to use it, and well, it's definitely not a two person toy.  But it will be really great for our cruise, and so far it's been fun to read stuff on it.  We didn't take any pictures at anytime (I brought my camera everywhere, but never actually took any pictures) so, it's a pictureless post, but there you have it.  Aren't birthday's fun?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-7118516238822591562?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7118516238822591562/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=7118516238822591562&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/7118516238822591562'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/7118516238822591562'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2010/05/happy-birthday-to-me.html' title='Happy Birthday to me!'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-8589035465546585914</id><published>2010-05-03T08:44:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-05-03T09:00:20.123-06:00</updated><title type='text'>65 years and counting</title><content type='html'>Ever since we moved to St George, not only have we been fortunate to live way closer to our families, but we live only minutes away from Dan's grandparents.  They are wonderful people.  They will call me up and see if they can baby-sit our kids while we go on a date, or they feed us dinner, or they just come visit (and don't mind when we stop in to visit), they share their pool with us, grandma shares her sunday paper coupons with me (she's great about it...bringing it to me instead of me going to get them like I should).  Anyway, there is a myriad of other reasons living so close to them is a great thing for us, but one of the most wonderful reasons is to watch the two of them together.  I don't know how old they are.  I would imagine in their 80's, but they are still going strong.  It's fun to watch them hold hands when they walk somewhere.  It's fun to see their concern for one another.  It's great to hear them talk about each other and the love that they still have for each other.They celebrated their 65th wedding anniversary back in February, and at the end of April their kids had a party for them to celebrate it.  The kids and I went up too (Dan was on call so he couldn't leave).  It was a fun little outing, even if it was a lot of driving in one day....which makes me thankful Dan normally does the driving.  I'll admit its not a favorite thing to do.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S97kZzBJk9I/AAAAAAAAA5Y/ZPUcsCN_e8c/s1600/DSCF3546.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S97kZzBJk9I/AAAAAAAAA5Y/ZPUcsCN_e8c/s320/DSCF3546.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467058129517253586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S97kaJc6-ZI/AAAAAAAAA5g/9SiLC8g2sA0/s1600/DSCF3553.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S97kaJc6-ZI/AAAAAAAAA5g/9SiLC8g2sA0/s320/DSCF3553.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5467058135539317138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Congratulations grandma and grandpa....65 years is incredible!  Thanks for the great example.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-8589035465546585914?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8589035465546585914/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=8589035465546585914&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/8589035465546585914'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/8589035465546585914'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2010/05/65-years-and-counting.html' title='65 years and counting'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S97kZzBJk9I/AAAAAAAAA5Y/ZPUcsCN_e8c/s72-c/DSCF3546.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-1841396857173956104</id><published>2010-05-02T22:45:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-05-02T22:54:01.856-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Kember's little tea party</title><content type='html'>Kember loves to have tea parties, and she finally had a friend over to have one with her.  So..they put on loads of make-up and finger nail polish and drank lots of water (pretend tea) and had a great time!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S95V5bCS1JI/AAAAAAAAA4w/OWfHiWFNA1o/s1600/DSCF3519.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S95V5bCS1JI/AAAAAAAAA4w/OWfHiWFNA1o/s320/DSCF3519.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466901442672645266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S95V53rg1lI/AAAAAAAAA44/O0qg_iGympE/s1600/DSCF3520.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S95V53rg1lI/AAAAAAAAA44/O0qg_iGympE/s320/DSCF3520.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466901450361722450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S95V40Zpg2I/AAAAAAAAA4o/Vk1kkCUoy1g/s1600/DSCF3518.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S95V40Zpg2I/AAAAAAAAA4o/Vk1kkCUoy1g/s320/DSCF3518.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466901432301618018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Caden wanted to play too, so he's pretending to be the dog and eat his dog food out of a dish.  I really couldn't believe how long the girls played with the nail polish.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S95WQt-9bsI/AAAAAAAAA5A/SknaQ86zp3s/s1600/DSCF3522.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S95WQt-9bsI/AAAAAAAAA5A/SknaQ86zp3s/s320/DSCF3522.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466901842895924930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S95WRBS7xZI/AAAAAAAAA5I/IOB1u2neQqw/s1600/DSCF3523.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S95WRBS7xZI/AAAAAAAAA5I/IOB1u2neQqw/s320/DSCF3523.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466901848079975826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S95WRrZ6uCI/AAAAAAAAA5Q/AvzelgCCL54/s1600/DSCF3524.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S95WRrZ6uCI/AAAAAAAAA5Q/AvzelgCCL54/s320/DSCF3524.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466901859383556130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really do do Kember's hair, I promise.  I realize that in almost ever picture I post of her she looks a mess, but I promise I her hair (this day just happened to be a really really lazy day).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-1841396857173956104?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1841396857173956104/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=1841396857173956104&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/1841396857173956104'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/1841396857173956104'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2010/05/kembers-little-tea-party.html' title='Kember&apos;s little tea party'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S95V5bCS1JI/AAAAAAAAA4w/OWfHiWFNA1o/s72-c/DSCF3519.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-2153962384018462612</id><published>2010-05-02T22:27:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2010-05-02T22:44:01.975-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Easter</title><content type='html'>Is it too late to write about Easter?  I hope not because I still have good intentions and high hopes about recording our Christmas/New Years/Valentines Day holidays ;)  They were all really good by the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted Easter to be more focused on what Easter really is all about, so we did the Easter Egg stuff all on Saturday (well, okay, we did Easter baskets on Sunday).  Our ward had an egg hunt at our church and a breakfast.  It was really fun, but really really cold.  I wonder if our kids are ever going to get a warm Easter...last year it rained.  And in all fairness it was a really nice day later on....Sunday anyway, the real Easter.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S95RzM26WfI/AAAAAAAAA4g/d9ToVq-BWrQ/s1600/DSCF3501.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S95RzM26WfI/AAAAAAAAA4g/d9ToVq-BWrQ/s320/DSCF3501.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466896937741081074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S95RyBDmcyI/AAAAAAAAA4Q/6fhWtYya1pE/s1600/DSCF3503.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S95RyBDmcyI/AAAAAAAAA4Q/6fhWtYya1pE/s320/DSCF3503.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466896917393208098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S95RyhGTT9I/AAAAAAAAA4Y/WBu-FEPS72s/s1600/DSCF3504.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S95RyhGTT9I/AAAAAAAAA4Y/WBu-FEPS72s/s320/DSCF3504.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466896925994471378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Cole loved the hunts that we went to (we also went to one the city did, but it wasn't all that great), but he had loads of trouble with his basket.  It was just a dollar store last minute thing and it didn't stay up right very well...all his eggs kept dumping out.  But he was more than happy to put them back in!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S95RaXYoeuI/AAAAAAAAA4A/zvGXq0QWvc0/s1600/DSCF3507.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S95RaXYoeuI/AAAAAAAAA4A/zvGXq0QWvc0/s320/DSCF3507.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466896511070141154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S95RZqbL5cI/AAAAAAAAA34/fKZHh7YrsAg/s1600/DSCF3506.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S95RZqbL5cI/AAAAAAAAA34/fKZHh7YrsAg/s320/DSCF3506.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466896499001255362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S95Raw9iSLI/AAAAAAAAA4I/WAr0P4a-WjM/s1600/DSCF3508.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S95Raw9iSLI/AAAAAAAAA4I/WAr0P4a-WjM/s320/DSCF3508.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466896517935810738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, on Sunday (which it was nice that it was conference weekend, I LOVE CONFERENCE) but it also made things weird combined with the holiday.  Anyway, before hand we read the account in the Book of Mormon where it talks about the darkness and destruction  when Christ is crucified and then his coming.  So, we destroyed downstairs (okay, the kids already did that, and I didn't clean anything up), turned out all the lights and spread candy all over the place.  I went over board on the candy, but really, it was such a great deal...I got it for like .60 cents a bag...and it was the good kind like Herseys and Reeses and stuff.  Anyway...after we scattered that about we sent the kids down and told them they had to find their family in the dark, and after they had found everyone (or the candy in this case) they were to make it to the temple (or the highest place they could find...a chair)  Then we turned on the lights and talked about the Resurrection again.  We  used the picture of Christ meeting Mary outside the tomb and talked about it, and later we read the Bible account of the resurrection.  It still wasn't as spiritual as I was hoping, but someday I'll prepare a head of time :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a picnic with our friends pictured above, flew kites, talked about conference and had a wonderful holiday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-2153962384018462612?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/2153962384018462612/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=2153962384018462612&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/2153962384018462612'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/2153962384018462612'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2010/05/easter.html' title='Easter'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S95RzM26WfI/AAAAAAAAA4g/d9ToVq-BWrQ/s72-c/DSCF3501.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-4584344827803367218</id><published>2010-04-23T18:18:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-04-23T18:22:22.599-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Silence is Golden!</title><content type='html'>Dinner tonight just made me laugh.   I've had a headache all day, and Dan was really tired when he got home from work.  After he very kindly made dinner we all sat down to partake.  It was delicious, but it sure was noisy.  Caden was going on about something (really loud), Kember was trying to tell us something, and Cole was just making happy loud noises from his high chair.  Oh, and Dan and I were trying to have a conversation.  Eventually Dan said, "Let's have a moment of silence."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had silence for about two seconds before Caden says, "Okay, what kind of sandwich are we having?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't help but burst out laughing.  Silence is golden, but it isn't found very often in our home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-4584344827803367218?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4584344827803367218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=4584344827803367218&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/4584344827803367218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/4584344827803367218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2010/04/silence-is-golden.html' title='Silence is Golden!'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-1170902000466672782</id><published>2010-03-24T19:23:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-24T19:30:15.326-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I need an internal heater that works</title><content type='html'>Someone needs to explain something to me.  Or they need to figure out why I'm so weird.  Here's the situation.  During the Winter, in an attempt to keep our bills down we tried to keep our heat at around 65.  Which might not be cold for you people up North, but for me it was pretty reasonable, although I turned it up any chance I got.  Anyway, our bills lowered and all was well in the world.  Then it started to warm up.  The sun would come out and I would open my blinds and again, all was happy in the world.  I even turned the heat off.  Here's where it starts getting weird.  I turned the heat off and I was fine (as long as the sun was shining through my widows) even in the temperature in my house was at 61ish.  Whatever, I was saving loads of money right?  Well, here we are well into Spring and the heat is off for good (unless it's a really cold rainy day).  Temperatures are high sixties, maybe even 70's outside, and it is just beautiful and lovely.  I couldn't ask for more....expect I'm freezing!  My house right now is 69 degrees, and I'm wrapped up in sweats, sweatshirt, and three blankets.  Yet a month ago I was okay with 61 degrees.  Hello, something is wrong with this picture.  And I'm guessing when it gets really hot here 69 degrees will just be too hot.  What is a person to do?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-1170902000466672782?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1170902000466672782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=1170902000466672782&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/1170902000466672782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/1170902000466672782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2010/03/i-need-internal-heater-that-works.html' title='I need an internal heater that works'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-5955985719435646906</id><published>2010-03-21T22:14:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-22T22:29:37.616-06:00</updated><title type='text'>New Calling</title><content type='html'>Out with the old, in with the new.  I got a new calling today (which wasn't a surprise since at our Mid-week RS Activity one of the counselors told me she was sorry that I wasn't going to be the chorister anymore...which was a surprise!).  I could be like my oldest brother who blogs that he got a new calling, but didn't tell what it was (grrr), but that would be no fun and ruin the post I have written in my head.&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever cried when you got a calling?  I don't mean cried because you felt the Spirit so strongly you cried, but I mean, cried.  Ya, I've never heard of anyone doing that before.  I've heard of people not really wanting the calling (had a few of those) but accepting it anyway because that's what they were taught to do, or not accepting the calling (which is a little foreign to me because I grew up learning that you say yes to callings).  Well, I accepted being a Nursery Worker, and when the counselor left my house I cried.  A lot.  I cried when Dan hugged me and said some really sweet things to try to make me feel better.  I cried when I was putting on my eye make-up (which, just in case you were wondering, doesn't work extremely well, but I persevered and got the stuff on, which is quite the feat for me regardless of wet eyes or not), I cried during the opening hymn in Sacrament meeting, and finally got a hold of myself.  Although I was told by some friends that I definitely didn't look happy when they announced my name and have you stand...Ooops.  But in my defense this was hopefully because I had just been crying and was trying not to look like it.  But on the bright side I was wearing foundation so I didn't turn all blotchy (well, you couldn't see it as well) as I normally do when I cry.  I can't even blame the crying on the fact that I'm a girl, because I've had callings before that I wasn't extremely excited about and never cried then.  And come on...who cries when they get a calling.  That's just pathetic.  It shouldn't have come as a surprise, but for some reason Nursery didn't occur to me.  Primary did (and yes, technically I know they are apart of each other, but to me they are separate entities).  Actually, my first day today in Nursery wasn't so bad.  I'll admit I have concerns with having both Cole and Caden in there with me, but the time passed quickly and it should be pretty good.  I was asked to do the music, and since I have strong views on this it should be okay.  The two ladies that I met were nice and we should get along.  The kids are cute, and it will take me a while to remember their names.  The embarrassing thing is, the names that I can't remember are the kids that their moms are in there with them...&lt;br /&gt;I realize I'm not going to get any sympathy from this post.  Who hasn't worked in the Nursery?  Given the different wards we've been in it is actually amazing that I haven't worked in there sooner.  But this is my trial.  Most people have trials like illness, or losing jobs, but something big like that...me...it's the Nursery.  But hey, I'll take it.  I don't particularly want that big stuff, so I'll happily endure to the end with mine.  Happy was the key word there.  I'm almost convinced...well, I'm working on it anyway.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-5955985719435646906?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5955985719435646906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=5955985719435646906&amp;isPopup=true' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/5955985719435646906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/5955985719435646906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2010/03/new-calling.html' title='New Calling'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-4878499035459606899</id><published>2010-03-17T21:51:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2010-03-17T21:58:23.371-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Look what I made</title><content type='html'>This was just fun, and I thought I'd share. Can you tell what it is?  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S6GjgalDidI/AAAAAAAAA3w/vPMCaS-MusA/s1600-h/DSCF3497.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S6GjgalDidI/AAAAAAAAA3w/vPMCaS-MusA/s320/DSCF3497.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5449816801380895186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I offered to bring a cake to our RS Activity tomorrow and my month was August.  When I think of August I think of school starting (regardless of whether or not it actually starts then), and I found this off the Wilton website.  The fun part is that its a jelly roll cake....and I made it!  I had no idea what that was, but hey, the internet is a wonderful thing.  I have no idea if frosting will taste good on a jelly roll cake, but this is what they get.  I probably could have left the jelly out...hmmm.  Oh well, too late now.  It would have been cooler if I would have done the four other colors as well, but I started this after 8, and....I'm done.  It also would have looked better if I had used fondant, but I'll admit that intimidates me.  I'd love to play with it, but making it makes me nervous...and I didn't have enough marshmallows to give it a try.  Anyway, just thought it was fun.  Oh, don't mind the pan, or the mess on the pan...I took a picture as soon as I was done.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-4878499035459606899?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4878499035459606899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=4878499035459606899&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/4878499035459606899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/4878499035459606899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2010/03/look-what-i-made.html' title='Look what I made'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S6GjgalDidI/AAAAAAAAA3w/vPMCaS-MusA/s72-c/DSCF3497.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-6457281172659066343</id><published>2010-03-12T08:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-12T08:28:30.732-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Swagbucks</title><content type='html'>Have you guys heard about Swagbucks?  It's a search engine (like google, or ask) that gets you points for using it, and you can turn those points into gift cards.  I'm doing it right now to save up a fifty dollar gift card to Lowes for Dan for Christmas.  I figure, I'm looking on the web anyway, I might as well get something for it.  Check it out &lt;a style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);" href="http://www.swagbucks.com/refer/Tarah"&gt;here.&lt;/a&gt;   Dan used some to try to buy me flowers on Valentines day..cute eh?  Give it a try.&lt;br /&gt;(Does this sound like a walking ad?  Yes, well, it kind of is.  I do use it every time I'm on the internet, and I'll tell you this the searches don't produce the greatest results, but if you use it for things that you would normally use your favorites button for, or for things you know the address for, it increases your chances of getting swagbucks.  You don't get a whole lot....I average 30 a day, so it does take a while to get enough to get your gift cards, but if you are saving for something like a birthday or christmas...why not?  It doesn't take any extra effort.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-6457281172659066343?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6457281172659066343/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=6457281172659066343&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/6457281172659066343'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/6457281172659066343'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2010/03/swagbucks.html' title='Swagbucks'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-8626274830056090536</id><published>2010-02-23T12:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-23T12:40:27.100-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Puppies and Prayers</title><content type='html'>The kids and I were talking at lunch.  Apparently they are still on the death kick, and one question led to another and Kember asked me when Jesus was coming.  I told her that no one knew when he was going to come, and she said, "I do!" &lt;br /&gt;me -"Really?  When is he coming?"&lt;br /&gt;kember -"At the end."&lt;br /&gt;Well, yes, yes, that's true.  He is going to come at the end.&lt;br /&gt;Then we got talking about prayers.  I was trying to explain to them that Heavenly Father will always answer our prayers, even if the answer is no.  I didn't explain this very well.  I used this example.  "So if you pray for Heavenly Father to let you have a puppy, and you don't get one, this isn't because Heavenly Father didn't answer your prayer, it's because He knows they best possible thing to make you happy." (Okay, and reading this no wonder I get a blank look from my kids a lot) and Kember says, "We get puppies from the pet store."  Okay, bad example.  That's the last time I try to explain prayers with puppies.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-8626274830056090536?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8626274830056090536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=8626274830056090536&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/8626274830056090536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/8626274830056090536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2010/02/puppies-and-prayers.html' title='Puppies and Prayers'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-6217494421840532085</id><published>2010-02-14T13:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-14T13:19:20.023-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Chop, chop!</title><content type='html'>Well, it's done.  Quite quickly for me too!  I was talking to my friend at the park, and we got talking about my hair when she turns to me and says, "Let's go right now!  I'll watch your kids."  Wow...okay, sure why not?  I called Dan to prepare him, and let him know I wouldn't be home for lunch.  He was worried.  But he got over it and came to the school where I got my hair chopped off.  Yikes!  She cut my braid off and I ran my fingers through my hair and I thought, "Oh, dear...this is so much shorter than I thought it was going to be....what have I done?"  She cut a little more than 10 inches off, and inside I'll admit I was freaking out.  But I had come prepared to hate it and just live with it.  After all, it was for a good cause, and hair grows back.  Mine a little more slower than some peoples, but hey, it would grow back.  Dan came before she was done styling it, and he got a little worried too.  However, I'll just say this.  I like it.  Which I was not prepared for.  Dan is growing to like it (hehehe) too.  He says it fits my personality better...something about being sassy, which I'm not sure how I feel about that.  I'm going to show you pictures, but please realize it looks way cuter in person (because I'm just goofy looking in front of a camera....not photogenic at all).  So, don't mind the weird look on my face, just look at the hair.  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S3hYRovhVYI/AAAAAAAAA3A/kKRpvvC5TX0/s1600-h/DSCF3380.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S3hYRovhVYI/AAAAAAAAA3A/kKRpvvC5TX0/s320/DSCF3380.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438193610067629442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S3hYSGZ2OiI/AAAAAAAAA3I/hpXNKlWu14c/s1600-h/DSCF3394.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S3hYSGZ2OiI/AAAAAAAAA3I/hpXNKlWu14c/s320/DSCF3394.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438193618029787682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Kember took this picture for me.  Not a bad job. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's so quick and easy to do.  The best part for me is that even when it's curly (which was another surprise...she styled it straight, which I loved, but thought it would look terribly curly, but low and behold, I like it better than straight!) I still feel like it looks cute at the end of the day.  Normally I only thought my hair looked nice for about an hour after I did it, then it started to look...well, not so nice.  Now I've even taken naps on it (yes, I do take naps) and I still feel like it looks fine.  I had some issues straightening it myself, and I can't really pull it back into a pony tail, but considering how fast it is, hopefully I won't need to. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, just wanted to let everyone know that I actually did it.  I got my hair chopped off.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5153889254659000552-6217494421840532085?l=tarahjsblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6217494421840532085/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5153889254659000552&amp;postID=6217494421840532085&amp;isPopup=true' title='23 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/6217494421840532085'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5153889254659000552/posts/default/6217494421840532085'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tarahjsblog.blogspot.com/2010/02/chop-chop.html' title='Chop, chop!'/><author><name>Tarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16190689893742625106</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='23' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/SXvss6TTn5I/AAAAAAAAAk8/LHz9553FsB4/S220/DSC_0045+copy.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S3hYRovhVYI/AAAAAAAAA3A/kKRpvvC5TX0/s72-c/DSCF3380.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>23</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5153889254659000552.post-9043223644507218832</id><published>2010-02-03T14:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-02-03T15:08:55.862-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Adventures in Chickenland</title><content type='html'>Yes, that's correct.  We are now owners of three chickens.  Dan brought them home this weekend per my request and his parents generosity.  I'd been thinking about getting chickens for quite a while.  When ever I think about self-reliance I think about chickens.  Long complicated story, don't ask.  Anyway, I always thought about it, but didn't think it was possible given where we live.  Well, our friends who live a few houses down got some and told us that the city had changed some laws to allow it.  Great!  Now I just had to convince Dan.  I talked to his parents about their chicken experience and they said we could have some of their chickens, and this way, if we don't like it they will take them back.  This was all sounding really perfect to me.  My family really wants pets because fish apparently aren't enough, so chickens sounded like the next best thing.  No need to love a chicken...no need to feel guilty for not loving a chicken or not spending time with it.  It will teach the kids responsibility and hey, we'll get eggs.  So, perfect all around.  Dan took some convincing.  Once I told him he could build the coop he argreed (and then I dashed his hopes when I told him no to all his elaborate plans...but really, why spend all that money on something we might not keep?).  Anyway, like I said, he agreed and brought them home Saturday night.  It was around then that our neighbors told us that their chickens had yet to lay an egg.  Hmm...well, it's still a great experience.  We really only use eggs for baking, and I don't bake all that much.  No biggie.&lt;br /&gt;Saturday night we put the kids to bed and stay up until 11:30 finishing the chicken coop...well, not finishing, but making it chicken-liveable.  It was kind of fun to build something with Dan, even it if took me ten times longer to do things than it would have taken him.  He was good to let me help.  Well, Sunday when we drove up the driveway from church I saw an egg in the coop!  Awesome!  I figured that was the one and only egg we would get, and only got it because it was in the making the previous day at it's former home.  Well, to make a really long story shorter (but still long) we've got one egg every day so far.  Here's a picture of Kember with our first egg.  So glad her eyes are closed...sigh.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S2ntxPmyLjI/AAAAAAAAA2g/gYEtkysjjgs/s1600-h/DSCF3363.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MRlQUJpboGE/S2ntxPmyLjI/AAAAAAAAA2g/gYEtkysjjgs/s320/DSCF3363.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434135855657791026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We enclosed our side yard and we've been letting the chickens roam our yard during the day.  I thought this was a great idea, especially when we plant our garden because they eat 
