tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-14738209973857124602024-03-15T20:10:20.177-05:00Party of Fiveannieckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07303230705273162561noreply@blogger.comBlogger500125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1473820997385712460.post-35761621158792307722012-02-23T11:18:00.005-06:002012-02-23T12:09:43.592-06:00Thursday's Random ThoughtsHappy Thursday. Why am I posting today after such a break? Who knows? My random thoughts are about as random as my sporadic posts. This is the stuff that's weighing on my mind lately...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFCoYiLmCLjLgR9AXsx4VlbnXro1fsohrIFCt_Em80pZZxMqJXkxRIjJRsir74sAMPNPCo98TEgEYUAqo06XiV0Wglj1mXsB_ng0gN1gK7atvT2FQdHksP1MoLmR3kfmY4jjIHWZP6Ow/s1600/DSC_0620.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 212px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFCoYiLmCLjLgR9AXsx4VlbnXro1fsohrIFCt_Em80pZZxMqJXkxRIjJRsir74sAMPNPCo98TEgEYUAqo06XiV0Wglj1mXsB_ng0gN1gK7atvT2FQdHksP1MoLmR3kfmY4jjIHWZP6Ow/s320/DSC_0620.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5712392445168656130" border="0" /></a>I am totally perplexed about my eyelashes. Some days, I wake up, get ready, put my make up on, and my lashes look full (ok "full" might be stretching it. "Slightly more voluminous" would be a tad more accurate). Then on other days, I need a magnifying glass to find the things. Each day, it's like a game...what kind of lashes will I have today? I use the same mascara every day. So weird.<br /><br />I admire all the women out there that take the pain-staking time to fix their hair. Maybe you're one of those women...you blow out your hair, bit by bit. You finish with silky straight hair and look like you just left a salon. Yeah, you. That's not me. I try. I <span style="font-style: italic;">really</span> do...sometimes. Maybe once a week (ok, once a month), I take the 35 minutes (and massive arm workout) it takes to blow out my hair. I take tiny sections, blow, roll, blow again, roll, blow again... What. A. Job. And then don't even get me started on using a curling iron to create the beachy waves. As far as I'm concerned, it should be considered an Olympic event.<br /><br />Through Facebook, I've learned that people really <span style="font-style: italic;">need</span> and crave attention. I mean, really, what did people do before our world's favorite social networking site? I'm always surprised at the things people put out there. I've felt like I've invaded marriages, disputes between friends, and have seen more mundane tasks listed than I care to admit. "Just got up. Susie hit her sister. I had to do laundry. I ran 2 miles in an hour...yea, me! About to eat dinner and fold more laundry...". Guess what people? All of our kids are fighting, many of us are working out and folding laundry, and we all have our personal issues. Facebook isn't a diary. Oh, and one more thing...if my grandmother can walk a mile faster than you can run yours, you really probably should hit "private" on your Nike run app rather than "public" and sharing it with all your Facebook friends. :)<br /><br />I love to match socks. There, I said it.<br /><br />I may have mentioned this one in the past, but every time I go to the zoo, this baffles me. Anyone else that's been to the Birmingham Zoo think that it's cruel and unusual punishment for the lions to be stationed directly behind the giraffes? The lions have to be licking their chops every time the giraffes walk by, right? It would be like positioning me in a fence right behind a Blue Bell ice cream factory, while making me watch it being made, and denying me any of it. Harsh!<br /><br />I don't let my kids say "dude". The word has bothered me since high school. Why? I really don't know, but it really bothers me. It's always especially bothered me when women say it. It's crazy, I know. I think it goes back to Wayne's World. It doesn't make me popular with Tristan, as "dude" is a major <span style="font-style: italic;">go to</span> word these days. Along these lines, I'm also working hard to break him of saying "like" before every comment. That has taken over our country. It's an epidemic! "I like saw this lion, and it was like right behind the giraffes, and it like looked so hungry like...". Make it stop! Oh, and now would be a good time to admit that I, too, suffer from "like sydrome". Hi. My name is Annie, and I'm a Like-aholic.<br /><br />I think it's awesome that there are so many great photographers out there now (a topic I'll touch on in a future TRT); however, one thing really makes me sad about all the fancy slrs and digital cameras in general... I MISS the BAD shots! Fancy cameras and gifted photogs have destroyed the "junk pic". I miss the cute pics of people squinched (just made that word up) and taking a pic of themselves and their friends...junk all in the background. I miss the messy morning pics of the kids with their eyes closed because they blinked. I miss the candids. Now, everything is so perfect and beautiful. Am I alone in this? And since everyone's a photographer now (literally), no one wants to be caught dead posting a pic with poor composition.<br /><br />Gotta go, friends! The Facebook world needs to know that I'm about to load up my van, drive over to drop off my clothes for the consignment sale, then I'll probably stop by to see Channing, eat some lunch, pick up my littles from school, come home and clean, think about working out, go pick up Tristan, make dinner, head out to the baseball tournament...". :)<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">*As always, my random thoughts are said very tongue-in-cheek. I commit many of the crimes (and more) that I make fun of. This is just all said in fun. :) </span>annieckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07303230705273162561noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1473820997385712460.post-52476024329154838992012-01-19T09:38:00.004-06:002012-01-19T10:08:32.268-06:00Thursday's Random ThoughtsIt's been a long time since I've written one of these, but things haven't changed. My mind constantly wanders. There are so many things that perplex me. Am I alone in this? <br />Here goes:<br /><br />It goes without saying that most of us have a secret sock snatcher, right? I mean, we all end up with stray socks. None of us knows what happens to socks when they go in the washer and dryer. Two go in, one comes out. We don't know why and probably never will. At my house, we have that issue, but we also have a larger issue...we have a shoe snatcher. It never fails, my kids need their shoes for school or for a random family outing, and we'll find one (usually in some random room of the house) with no sign of the other. What in the world?! It happens to each of my kids at least once a week. How do two shoes, a pair, get separated so far from their partners?<br /><br />Secret smokers...is there such a thing? I say there's not. We all know at least one. The random family member or friend who sneaks around and thinks the rest of us have no idea. Oh, we know. Everyone knows. Why hide it? If you do it, you don't have a problem with it, why be so secretive? Secret smokers are never as secret as they think. The rest of us, though, will just continue to pretend that we have no idea. <br /><br />You seen the <a href="http://youtu.be/5S2p7AiNX9g">Forever Lazy</a>? I know you have. If you haven't, climb out from under that rock and click on the link. I dare say it's the worst "as seen on tv" product there is. Ok, ok...I know I spent a lot of time ragging on the Snuggie and then bought one for every member of my family and Channing's, but the Forever Lazy is worse. Who in their right mind would put on a zip up fleece jumper...as an adult?! Not only is it a huge hassle, but you'd look ridiculous. "Oh, but wait", you say. "What about the front zipper and 'drop seat' for those times of emergency, when duty calls (aka gotta go potty)?". Yes, my friends, a prime selling point in the commercial for this product is that it has a front zipper and "drop seat" for bathroom breaks. Ok...GRRRROOOOOSSSSSS!!! If I ever find out someone I know has worn a F.L. to the bathroom and unzipped the butt of the thing to go to the bathroom, not only will you never hear the end of it, I'll never look at you the same again. That is sick. Who does that?! How is it even possible? Are you in your noodle under it? No underwear? No pants. Someone please explain this to me. It keeps me up at night.<br /><br />As I was leaving the prayer meeting at church a couple of days ago, I began mentally reciting John 3:30, "He must increase...". Just as I said "increase", I glanced to my right and caught a glimpse of myself in the glass wall surrounding the playground, and immediately, "my butt must decrease" popped in my mind. Word from the Lord, you think?<br /><br />These are the thoughts that have plagued my brain this week. I know, I know...I'm a true intellectual. I ponder the world's great issues. How about you? Any random thoughts to share?annieckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07303230705273162561noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1473820997385712460.post-81809765211182852572012-01-18T11:24:00.005-06:002012-01-18T11:46:35.346-06:00A Day to RejoiceSo the last few days have been rough, to say the least. I'm not sure what exactly the root cause has been, whether it's facing my loss, fasting, lack of sleep (going to bed at 11 doesn't make for an easy 5 am wake up), lack of fluids (totally my fault. I forget to drink water!)...not sure of the cause but today has been 110% better! God is so good, people!<br /><br /><br /><div>My morning started at four. I woke up and said, "Pleeeeease don't let it by 5:00...pleeeeeease!". Looked at my phone, only 4:00. Woo hoo! I had another hour to sleep. At 5:02, I heard some weird and foreign noise coming from beside me. "What is that?!". Ummmmm that would be my alarm!<br /></div><br /><div>Reluctantly got up, dressed, made myself presentable, and headed out to prayer. So glad I did! I can't tell you how thankful I am that God has drawn me there every morning. I have really needed it.</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>I've attended most of the morning prayer meetings, but today was special. Today, it finally hit me...I've been making my needs, my family's needs, my friend's needs my priority and my focus during my prayer and fasting. Today, I spent that hour praising God, praising Him for who He is, for His grace, His mercy, His unfailing love. Wow! I can't tell you how much better and how much more peace I've had.<br /></div><br /><div>God is good. He never lets us down or leaves us hanging. How great is our God?!<br /></div><br /><br /><div>Ok, sorry to go on and on, but it's just been a freeing, uplifting kind of day...even though Tristan forgot his backpack, and I had to go back and get it. No worries!<br /></div><br /><div>Thanks for your prayers, friends. You are such a blessing. And because I love these little rascals, here's one of my favs of my littles: Pete and Repeat. </div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5699027710779111826" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaXSUrAavHASFysr6cEC_2k2y_y5LrIMtN_8sadGewUzj2_Tkyy0ACyuTbdE8VZbl2H3rFQBGRp8NTHLHJLwAy5-1oZNmkLPz0hKMe2GUQN2Yv2OgkLgoFrvrqPwD-ydzwbS9XVHgeKA/s320/IMG_0010.JPG" /><em>"I am with you and will watch over you wherever you go..."</em> ~Genesis 28:15<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div>annieckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07303230705273162561noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1473820997385712460.post-73303975509539935392012-01-17T13:04:00.003-06:002012-01-17T13:08:22.386-06:00On A Lighter Note...So glad to be back and checking in with my blogger friends! I didn't realize how much I'd missed it and missed you guys! Can't wait to catch up on everyone's pages.<br /><br />My header picture:<br />Typical picture of my kids these days. Tristan doing his duty and trying to give me a decent picture; Rhi trying to emulate whatever Asher does or find a reason to hit him; and Asher...oh Asher. That's his "picture face". Trying to break him of it, but it hasn't been easy.<br /><br />I adore these kids...99.9% of the time! ;) So much chaos and fun at our house!annieckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07303230705273162561noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1473820997385712460.post-50574293519084609012012-01-17T07:49:00.004-06:002012-01-17T12:57:25.357-06:0021 Days of PrayerHave I ever mentioned that I love my church? For more reasons than I can count, I LOVE and adore my church. It has been a beacon of light for me in the 7 1/2 years my family and I have been there. This church has opened my eyes to God, the real God, the God that loves me, the God that cares, that knows everything I'm feeling, thinking, experiencing... He's not the God I grew up thinking He was...on a throne, waiting and expecting me to fail, and ready to punish when I did. That's not Him. He disciplines as a parent does a child, but it's in love.<br />Ok, I'm getting off track. Back to my reason for this post...<br /><br />Currently, our church is in the middle of <a href="http://21days.churchofthehighlands.com/">21 days of prayer and fasting</a>. Our pastor started the church this way and has continued the tradition every year since the launch. Fasting is one of those topics that a lot of people, including my former self, have misconceived notions about. If you want to know more, check out the link.<br /><br />Anyway, Channing, Tristan, and I are smack dab in the middle of the fast, with the rest of our church. Tristan is fasting candy and sweets (and asks <em>every day</em> how many more days are left), and Channing and I are doing the Daniel Fast and also fasting tv. The Daniel Fast hasn't been as difficult this time as it has been in the past. Fasting tv, I'm embarrassed to admit, has been much harder. It's been good for me, though.<br /><br />So today is day 10 of the fast, and I'm feeling it. Actually, I've been feeling it for a couple of days. I've been getting up each morning to attend the prayer service that starts at 6 (I am <em>not</em> a morning person), and I find myself spent by late afternoon. The prayer and fasting have been great. I can feel my relationship with the Lord getting stronger, but I feel weak, exhausted. I feel more in touch with my emotions, a little too much so. I'm trying to figure out if this is a good thing. I feel sure it is, it's just hard to handle.<br /><br />I've spent the past four months, since losing Addy, recovering, sweeping my feelings under the rug, putting on a brave face, Christmas shopping, helping at Tristan's school, running, working out, eating, reading, watching tv...lots of things. I've done anything and everything I could possibly do to distract myself from her and our loss. This fast is bringing to surface all of those suppressed feelings. At first, I tried to ignore them, change them. I channeled my feelings into anger, anger about ridiculous things, things I have no control over and have nothing to do with her or the situation, just random world injustices. I've channeled my feelings into feelings of weakness and self-pity, but I never connected my crazy emotions to what I think they're really connected to...Addy.<br /><br />I am so thankful that the fast is helping me to fully deal with my loss. I miss her, I'm sad, but a huge part of me is so incredibly thankful. I'm thankful that God knows way more than I do about what's best for my family and for me. I'm so thankful that He loves my babies more than I could ever imagine. <br /><br />Last week, a friend shared this blog with me: <a href="http://randycourtneytripproth.blogspot.com/">"EB"ing a Mommy</a>. WOW. Changed my perspective, a lot. Precious Tripp was born with a rare genetic skin disorder, EB. The blog is written by his young mom, who gave up everything to take care of her son 24 hours a day. I can't do justice to the situation and all that Courtney, Tripp's mom, has faced in the past two years and eight months, but in the days since finding her blog, sweet baby Tripp has gone to be with Jesus. I can't say enough about the need for everyone to see her blog. If anyone is reading this, besides those who will one day flip through my blurb book, please stop by Tripp's page. I can't imagine that anyone could visit her blog and not be changed.<br /><br />I have learned so much about love and loss through Tripp's page. I admire his mom with every ounce of my being. I cannot imagine bearing her cross.<br /><br />Please join me in rejoicing that Tripp is fully restored, healed, and in perfect peace. Please also join me in praying for his mom, Courtney, and his grandmother. I know they are relieved that their baby is healed, but I also know that their hearts ache and long to hold him.<br /><br /><em>"Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you."</em> Hebrews 13:5b<br /><em></em><br /><em>"The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit."</em> ~Psalm 34:18<br /><br /><em>"...weeping may</em> <em>stay for the night, but rejoicing comes in the morning."~</em>Psalm 30:5<br /><br /><br /><strong>*</strong>Bear with me through the next week and a half as I share things that I feel God is placing on my heart. I want to keep a record of them for the future, and this is my outlet. I don't want to bore anyone, so you may not want to stop by for a couple of weeks. ;)<br /><br /><br /><em></em>annieckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07303230705273162561noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1473820997385712460.post-795394605885123212012-01-16T09:37:00.005-06:002012-01-16T11:04:54.109-06:00A Pain Like No Other<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWVAtDp7WnCs04SHR3fLsqihmMU9A2gqqtsxkGDcbIMvtProH78ziIjluBxEiOAd-AWaqHiYm195TjhbrH-IkB-GWAXIwhPTpRxBKbC0rtdjfbs8_9voK009yFN9FQbJBcXilE2UWiiw/s1600/IMG_0453.JPG"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 239px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698274768981146114" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWVAtDp7WnCs04SHR3fLsqihmMU9A2gqqtsxkGDcbIMvtProH78ziIjluBxEiOAd-AWaqHiYm195TjhbrH-IkB-GWAXIwhPTpRxBKbC0rtdjfbs8_9voK009yFN9FQbJBcXilE2UWiiw/s320/IMG_0453.JPG" /></a> September 6, 2011...the birthday of my precious baby girl, Adalyn Grace...my fourth baby born, my youngest, my second little girl. I had such hopes for her, for our family, our future together. I had already planned out her room, the love she'd get from Tristan, the hope of Asher stepping up and being the protective big brother, and Rhi, the fights she'd have with Rhi. I worried. I worried about how we'd find the time, money, attention, patience, and space we'd need for a fourth child. I knew, though, that it would all work out, it always had.<br /><br /><br /><div>Thing is, none of these things would come to fruition. On Tuesday, August 30, 2011, Channing, the kids and I eagerly anticipated an exciting day. It was ultrasound day! We were finally going to find out if our family would be blessed with a sweet baby girl or a precious baby boy. We spent the night before making our predictions. We spent the morning of preparing our baby reveal game. We were all so excited! We had friends anxiously awaiting the news. It was finally time!<br /></div><br /><div>Cut to our appointment. Channing and I walked into the ultrasound room. We excitedly explained our baby reveal game and how we wanted her to hide the special piece of the game. We thanked her for performing our ultrasound at 17 weeks and 5 days (rather than the suggested 20 weeks). I got on the table. Everything was perfect and ready.<br /></div><br /><div>The tech, such a sweet and amazing lady, started with the wand over my belly. I quickly figured out something was wrong. I mean, this was baby #4. I knew what was happening wasn't normal. She moved the wand...and moved it again...and again... She was quiet. Channing was so busy looking away (he really wanted to be totally surprised during the gender reveal game) he didn't notice. I finally said it, "You can't find it, can you?". She confirmed my suspicions. There was no heartbeat.<br /></div><br /><div>What happened next is somewhat of a blur. I cried, Channing was upset, the tech offered words of comfort. Finally, I gathered myself and said, "It's ok. It's ok. It's going to be ok." Channing and I were ushered to an exam room to wait for our dr. My nurse came in, hugged me, but I was numb. I couldn't believe it. It couldn't be right. We had <em>THREE HEALTHY KIDS</em>. Three healthy pregnancies. One of my babies was born in the car for crying out loud! How could this be happening? I was numb.<br /></div><br /><div></div><br /><div>My doctor came in. He told us how the baby was measuring where it should be and how whatever took the baby's life must've just happened. He tried to comfort us. He said all the things that doctors say, I guess. I know he felt bad for us. He told us the next steps...basically they consisted of me immediately being checked into the hospital and delivering my baby...my baby that wouldn't breathe at birth. I was in shock. I was heartbroken. I was numb. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Channing and I opted to wait a week before going through with the delivery. Deep down, we just didn't accept the diagnosis. We wanted time to pray for a miracle. We left the office with broken hearts. We called our parents and let them know. I knew a lot of my friends, teachers at my kids' schools, etc knew it was the day we were finding out the gender, so that made things harder. We knew people would ask. Channing went in to get our little kids, while I waited in the car. Teachers asked, heard the news, and cried.<br /></div><br /><div>Thankfully, Channing was able to cancel patients for the rest of the day, so we could go home together to explain things to the kids. The hardest part of our afternoon, after finding out we'd lost the baby, was picking up Tristan. He was SO excited! From the time his feet hit the back of our van, he couldn't stop talking about how excited he was to find out about the baby. "Daddy, you took off?! Are we going to do the game right away?! I think it's a boy!". It went on and on.<br /></div><br /><br /><div>Finally, we arrived home, sat on the couch together and prepared to share our heartbreaking news. Tristan, of course, didn't understand why we were sitting down. He was talking a mile a minute about our game. He was pumped! Finally, we broke in and told them what we'd found out; that they didn't find a heartbeat. What was amazing to me was how quickly my seven year old Tristan picked up on what that meant, "It died? The baby died?". "Yes, baby. The baby died. He or she is in Heaven with Jesus." He broke down. He cried and cried. He was so sad.<br /></div><br /><div>Asher didn't quite understand. For some reason, beyond our understanding, he thought that our baby lost it's head, went to Heaven to get another from Jesus, and would come back. <em>A wild imagination, that one has. </em>It took a little more explaining for him, but we finally got it explained.<br /></div><br /><div>The next couple of days were harder than anything I've ever gone through. I was totally and completely heartbroken. I felt hopeless. I was so blessed, though, with amazing friends who quickly organized meals, prayers, and encouraging words for me. Looking back, I never could have made it through without them. Finally, on day three, I decided to fight. I wanted to fight for our family and the life of our baby. So that's what Channing, our friends, our pastors, and I did. We prayed. We were prayed over. We believed that our baby would be healed. I even felt guilty during that week because I had friends bringing us dinner, and I thought it was completely unnecessary. I would go back the next Tuesday, and we'd find out that our baby was totally fine. I was so sure in my faith.<br /></div><br /><div>Let me insert here, briefly, that I have never felt so loved. I had family, friends, neighbors, pastors, etc bringing us food, books, prayer cards, anointing oil, gift cards, flowers, encouraging words. I can never share and put into words how amazing that was, how blessed we were, how loved we felt.<br /></div><br /><div>Well, we went back to our doctor's office, Channing, my mom, and me. It was kind of a crazy day. Power was out all over Birmingham. The tech was late because of traffic. Our doctor was late. It was a messy day. Finally, it was time. Our doctor took us to the ultrasound room. Once again, I was on the table. Once again, no heartbeat. Our baby was really gone. No miracle. I would be delivering a stillborn baby that day.<br /></div><br /><div>I was devastated. I was shocked. I was broken. We three got up, left the room and headed to the hospital. I had to face what was happening. I just couldn't believe it. As sad, confused, and distressed as I was, God showed me that He had never and would never leave my side, even if I was in the middle of wondering how He could withhold a miracle from us, one that we'd prayed so hard for; one that we'd whole-heartedly believed would happen.<br /></div><br /><div>He made His presence known immediately when we met the nurse who would spend the day with us. Her name was Pamela. As we were sitting in the room with her, and she was taking our information, she began to ask about our plans for the baby after birth. It was more than I could handle. I broke down, and she immediately said we could discuss that later. That's when she said something along these lines, "I don't normally share things about my private life, but yesterday at church, as I was praying, I felt God tell me that I needed to step up for _____ patients ( I can't remember what she called patients like me, patients who'd lost their babies), so as soon as they said someone was coming over, I volunteered." That was proof to me that God had known exactly where I'd be that day, at that time. I was humbled that He'd cared enough about me to prepare the perfect nurse for me. It was incredible and exactly what I needed to hear when my faith was on shaky ground.<br /></div><br /><div>Nurse Pam was amazing. She walked me through my fears, through the pain, through everything. She wasn't there when Adalyn was born but was back the next morning. She was a bright light in a dark time. Thank you, Lord.<br /></div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Adalyn Grace was born on September 6, 2011 at 9:00 pm. She was so so tiny. I couldn't believe how tiny she was. She was 5 inches long. As tiny as she was, we immediately recongnized that she had her Daddy's feet and hands...long skinny feet. Ha! Even baby #4 looked like him! I have some seriously recessive genes! But that's beside the point.<br /></div><br /><div>A lot happened in between the time I entered the hospital and the time she was born, a lot of odd and incredible things. I won't share them all. I'll keep some things specifically for our family, but it was a unique and humbling time.<br /></div><br /><div>It's been exactly four months and 10 days since our precious baby girl was born. It's been a rough four months, though it is getting easier. Times were hardest in the two months after we lost her. Now, I'm finally out of the fog and in a place of gratitude. I'm so grateful that the first face she saw was the face of Jesus. I'm so grateful that I'll never have to worry that she'll be hurt, that someone will break her heart, that she'll be sick...she is healed and with Jesus. Though I'm grateful that God has my precious baby, I still have days where I cry, where I miss her, where I am reminded that on her original due date, February 2, 2012, she won't be born. I won't be holding a perfect baby girl. Tristan won't hold her, guide her, love her like he does Rhi. I won't get to see Asher step up and be the protective big brother. Rhi will never yell at her for stealing her babies or clothes (as teenagers). I will never know if she'd have grown up with curls like our other three.<br /></div><br /><div>That being said, what greater glory is there than to be with our Lord and Savior? Our little girl is in perfect peace. Thank you, Lord, that we have hope in You. I don't know how people survive loss without Jesus; without hope of seeing their loved ones again. I know that one day, I will hug Adalyn, and I will be able to pour out my love on her. What a great day that'll be.<br /></div><br /><div>In the meantime, I'm so thankful for my husband, such an amazing man, partner, and father, for my kids, my friends, and one amazing church. I am blessed beyond measure!<br /></div><br /><div>A great verse that saw me through: "When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze." Isaiah 43:2<br /></div><br /><div>If you don't know Jesus, DON'T WAIT! Our time here is so short. Don't put off finding Him. Hope and salvation can only be found in Him.</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div>annieckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07303230705273162561noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1473820997385712460.post-48298378955966787722012-01-16T09:28:00.003-06:002012-01-16T09:37:20.796-06:00Has It Been That Long?I know it's been a long time. I refuse to look at exactly how long it's been. All I know is that I originally started this blog to chronicle the lives of my precious kids, so that one day, they can look back and see all the stuff I failed to put in baby books. Wish I was one of those moms who religiously updated baby books...or even the type of mom who had one for every kid. I am not that mom. I want to be that mom, but so far, I'm not. That's what this blog is for.<br /><br />For those who may have accidentally stumbled upon my blog, let me warn you up front: There's nothing exciting happening here. I don't blog to show how great I am, how perfect my children are, or because I need the extra attention . In fact, if anyone hopes to find that here, you'll be incredibly disappointed. My kids aren't dressed to the nines 24 hours a day, and I don't take goregous pictures. I can't remember a time when I've made a gourmet meal or gone on and on about being married to the greatest person on the planet. That's not me. I'm just a normal mom trying to navigate through this world, with a great hope of leading my children to love the Lord and to realize their worth in His eyes. <br /><br />With that being said, let's go...annieckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07303230705273162561noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1473820997385712460.post-10442738100639711832010-07-09T19:28:00.006-05:002010-07-09T19:58:17.563-05:00Contest...I love contests!So my sweet friend and amazing photographer, Grethel Van Epps is having a contest. Curious? Want to know more???<br />Wellll it's the 3rd anniversary of her photography business, and she's celebrating by giving away a F<span style="font-weight: bold;">REE session AND $100 print credit</span>. Isn't that awesome?! If you don't know her work, then you are missing out!<br />You can learn more about Grethel and her work by visiting her blog @ www.gvephotography.com/blog or her website @ www.gvephotography.com.<br /><br />She has done pictures for our family on some very special occasions, including the newborn pictures of our sweet Rhiannon. I have included a couple in this post, and you can see some of those pictures on my blog header.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiwY6M_wqJ7zjLeZGUbybTcBwHMpWyNY8AJnwXIBAA4rzior1kVOsVhAaooLs9jQfBX4TyRrQl-OEmWuu0injdNnoJt1-BeqxBljdUEOCbCYd1ntzjB8zY6NszDttvRZ3LtWHQre-_oQ/s1600/rhi4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiwY6M_wqJ7zjLeZGUbybTcBwHMpWyNY8AJnwXIBAA4rzior1kVOsVhAaooLs9jQfBX4TyRrQl-OEmWuu0injdNnoJt1-BeqxBljdUEOCbCYd1ntzjB8zY6NszDttvRZ3LtWHQre-_oQ/s400/rhi4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492072555270675666" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe_E7i0ZFfq9NOjojr2bDZfDDa5HvM_RUYb7bagPg25gjCb1l-oP02zAXNvYlKatkuCJPIL2yjmi0VidvXy4VCQbmkgxdZE1iMihGdyOt7oZNUisQxpcF8Undfz-3lEdpz0r7yiJ6LTA/s1600/rhi.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe_E7i0ZFfq9NOjojr2bDZfDDa5HvM_RUYb7bagPg25gjCb1l-oP02zAXNvYlKatkuCJPIL2yjmi0VidvXy4VCQbmkgxdZE1iMihGdyOt7oZNUisQxpcF8Undfz-3lEdpz0r7yiJ6LTA/s400/rhi.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492072551315873266" border="0" /></a>She is always a joy to work with and has an amazing eye. She puts our kids at ease and allows their personalities to shine through in her pictures. She is incredible. SOOOOOOO, though I REALLY REALLY want to win this contest, I am going to encourage you to enter as well. That way, when I win, I'll feel extra special. ;)annieckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07303230705273162561noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1473820997385712460.post-68632789573727089762010-03-25T10:36:00.005-05:002010-03-25T11:26:04.026-05:00A Slippery SlopeOk, so I haven't posted in MONTHS, and here I am. I've wanted to post and have so much I want to share (more for my scrapbook than anything) but just have not found the time. I must catch up because this is how I scrapbook for my kids. UGH! Where is the time to be found?!
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<br />Anyway, today my post isn't about my kids, and it isn't to share my random thoughts. Well, not my funny random thoughts anyway. Today I want to share my thoughts on the craziness that is America right now and how our priorities seem so out of whack.
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<br />So the big news is the healthcare bill. It passed, <span style="font-style: italic;">narrowly</span>, but it passed. Many Americans are against this bill, and for good reason. These Americans are experiencing all kinds of emotions, but what stands out the most is 'anger'. People are angry that their rights are being taken away and that things are being forced on them. On the flip side, the Americans who wanted this bill passed are experiencing their own wave of emotions. They are full of hope or excitement or whatever. I don't really know.
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<br />This is all beside the point I am focusing on. What I have noticed through all this is that it is a HUGE distraction. HUGE, and I think Satan has got to be smiling, laughing, and enjoying every minute of this. Smiling and happy because the healthcare bill passed? Smiling because this bill is so "evil"? No. I think he's happy because Americans' focus has majorly shifted. People are SO obsessed with politics and with getting "their way" (on both sides) that they have forgotten why they're here. So many of us have spent so much time arguing our points and why "we're right" that we've forgotten to even try to understand where someone else might be coming from. Worse than that, people's lives are being threatened, people are being slandered, discriminated against, personally attacked, and are living in fear because of their political views and choices. People are spending so much time hating these politicians that they don't have time to focus on Jesus and His message. <span style="font-style: italic;">Matthew 5:43-44 says, "You have heard that it was said, 'Love your neighbor</span><sup style="font-style: italic;" class="footnote" value="" href=""#fen-NIV-23278a"" title=""See">a</a>]"></sup><span style="font-style: italic;"> and hate your enemy.' </span><sup style="font-style: italic;" class="versenum" id="en-NIV-23279">44</sup><span style="font-style: italic;">But I tell you: Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you...". </span>
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<br />So many of us aren't loving our enemies. We want them to hurt and to be wronged the way that we feel we were hurt and wronged. We are so angry. We are so self-righteous.
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<br />This healthcare bill may not be what some of us wanted, but it passed. If we don't like it, we need to go about challenging it with class, with love, and for the right reasons. We need to stop making it an 'us vs them' and try to work together. We live in the greatest country in the world, yet most of us are tearing it down brick by brick. We have lost our fundamentals. We have lost our faith in God. We want to do everything ourselves and, often times, for selfish reasons.
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<br />I truly believe that we need to look at the issues through the other person's point of view, whatever the issue may be. Only then can we understand their point. We may still disagree, but maybe we can disagree with the issue and not with the person.
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<br />Barack Obama is our president. In 1Timothy, Paul tells us to pray for our leaders:
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<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I urge, then, first of all, that requests, prayers, intercession and thanksgiving be made for everyone— for kings and all those in authority, that we may live peaceful and quiet lives in all godliness and holiness. This is good, and pleases God our Savior, who wants all men to be saved and to come to a knowledge of the truth. (1 Timothy 2:1-4).</span>
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<br />If I'm being totally honest, I have to admit that I often forget to do this. Do you? Will you join me in praying for our President as well as others in authority?
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<br />I want America to still be a great place to live. I want to take the smile off of Satan's face. I want to be a good example for my kids. I want to focus on Jesus rather than being right. I mean, if we were to really look at all the issues, do we all know as much as we think we do? I mean, are any of us the supreme authority on every issue? Many of us think we know more than the other person and want to accuse others of being ill-informed, but let's be real. That's not always the case. There are always two sides to every story, and in politics, there are always lies and skewed points.
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<br />I believe in America, and I trust in God. I am going to commit to spend more time focusing on Jesus and less on trying to prove others wrong. If I believe strongly in something, I am going to pray and ask God to show me how He would have me handle it.
<br />Well, these are my plans, anyway. "Nothing is impossible with God", right?
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<br />Thoughts? Be kind... :)
<br />annieckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07303230705273162561noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1473820997385712460.post-47469868245831221432009-11-17T16:10:00.006-06:002009-11-17T16:24:21.349-06:00Jesus is Bigger Than a PigTristan is in kindergarten this year, and his class has been studying fairy tales. One of the fairy tales they've studied is "The Three Little Pigs". They have done a lot of activities with that story, and one of the activities came home with him today. It was a book authored by the students in his class. The book is titled: "__________ is Bigger Than a Pig".<br /><br />As I flipped through the pictures, I saw lots of cute and colorful pictures with a myriad of different answers.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;">My house </span>is bigger than a pig.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;">A boat</span> is bigger than a pig.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;">A limo </span>is bigger than a pig.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;">A shark</span> is bigger than a pig.</span><br /><br />Then I saw Tristan's page, and my heart melted:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDZxJVhK9n7tZe6lj_YanL7W96lhTclzyV0vhM__sgFawGZChUY4iA3RdMXhSgj3Wp_xqzQjNE-G1D4ANXzNeznGOnQj_378E975IUxyt99rLfQQPIMhr1oBglTgd47e3j5wkJdtlRtA/s1600/pig.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDZxJVhK9n7tZe6lj_YanL7W96lhTclzyV0vhM__sgFawGZChUY4iA3RdMXhSgj3Wp_xqzQjNE-G1D4ANXzNeznGOnQj_378E975IUxyt99rLfQQPIMhr1oBglTgd47e3j5wkJdtlRtA/s400/pig.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405198734171108770" border="0" /></a>My photo of his picture isn't great, but it says at the bottom,<br />"<span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Jesus</span> is bigger than a pig</span>."<br /> That is Jesus in the sky.<br /><br />I'm so proud of my little boy! He always remembers that Jesus is bigger than us all; that He loves us even more than we love each other, more than we can imagine. I pray that Tristan will continue to share Jesus with those around him, and that his faith in Jesus will grow with each passing year, day, and hour.annieckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07303230705273162561noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1473820997385712460.post-38643697585281997792009-11-14T16:11:00.005-06:002009-11-14T16:19:59.667-06:00My Baby Girl is Five Months Old!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtzi9MVej0pHTO6CBdd62KJ4QOhEKp_WbFOqEcQDz0YGeZUtT_SS2d_z2z-mWR_dEBOJBOeVB1OHa_mPhK3WWLh7b2w_3lo3C9z_NXzJxUpTzMFAXKGxKj529kHJbuuVO4ysY0rlG5kg/s1600-h/5mos3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtzi9MVej0pHTO6CBdd62KJ4QOhEKp_WbFOqEcQDz0YGeZUtT_SS2d_z2z-mWR_dEBOJBOeVB1OHa_mPhK3WWLh7b2w_3lo3C9z_NXzJxUpTzMFAXKGxKj529kHJbuuVO4ysY0rlG5kg/s400/5mos3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404086052885591522" border="0" /></a>Seriously, how did time fly by so quickly? Not only is it almost Thanksgiving and Christmas, but my baby girl, my little princess, is already five months old! Seems like she was just born, and now she's smiling, laughing, rolling over, and sprouting curls! What in the world?!? Does anyone know how I can freeze time? Though I love this stage, as I do every stage, I just wish each stage would last a little longer. Rhiannon is such a good cuddler, and I know that once she can get mobile, she'll be over it. SAD!<br /><br />Here are this months' pictures of my sweet Rhi Rhi Girl:<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgGqJlWT05MkcISVgaPgRB1mFJotZDewMg1_DI8tA55rz_CUTI3X9u1w3ecJJsXtEKG8mbtVOWUVCojmnAuCyMhuCshzAp4hK5NohhR4pUHEjXm_PcVtC3FQljvMSRyhFgdfGvZ4tWiQ/s1600-h/5+mos.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgGqJlWT05MkcISVgaPgRB1mFJotZDewMg1_DI8tA55rz_CUTI3X9u1w3ecJJsXtEKG8mbtVOWUVCojmnAuCyMhuCshzAp4hK5NohhR4pUHEjXm_PcVtC3FQljvMSRyhFgdfGvZ4tWiQ/s320/5+mos.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404086151381318834" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0w9EIyT05F9eT1VB1RLh5x5JGevU7vJ9WdJRpG1XcI1ncbENtT5tkfHS3qTkMavyuA3WOztGwlCFl9GZ2sDHsrQscD0YvzQfLT_ou-ZrFL22uGMexgFNbOoOHDrPofGI2HouBPneOFg/s1600-h/5mos1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0w9EIyT05F9eT1VB1RLh5x5JGevU7vJ9WdJRpG1XcI1ncbENtT5tkfHS3qTkMavyuA3WOztGwlCFl9GZ2sDHsrQscD0YvzQfLT_ou-ZrFL22uGMexgFNbOoOHDrPofGI2HouBPneOFg/s320/5mos1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404086153838003506" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8YL2uxzL6pBtgkqFEVXPbMyd0uCeI1U5D2sMHA2Blzhxbt3OuwA34QD2X_TpBerKhacvp57umd78x614PGgGMZyEfu91VZ0gEg2xsB1OJeb7Yh0Qu-JAbsv0rnWw8RL2AoumJz4GOBA/s1600-h/5mos2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8YL2uxzL6pBtgkqFEVXPbMyd0uCeI1U5D2sMHA2Blzhxbt3OuwA34QD2X_TpBerKhacvp57umd78x614PGgGMZyEfu91VZ0gEg2xsB1OJeb7Yh0Qu-JAbsv0rnWw8RL2AoumJz4GOBA/s320/5mos2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404086157146931058" border="0" /></a>Speaking of curls, how common is it to have THREE curly headed children? It can't happen often, right? What are the chances??? Not only do we have two boys with curly blonde hair, now Rhiannon has it and may end up with hair that is curlier than the boys. Their hair was not nearly as curly as hers is when they were her age. Amazing! I know you can't tell it from this picture, but if her hair gets the least bit wet, it curls up.<br /><br />I sure do love this little girl! The boys do too. God has blessed us with such wonderful kids. :)<br /><br />Happy five months, Rhiannon Marie!annieckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07303230705273162561noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1473820997385712460.post-66614340489150341092009-11-12T22:42:00.004-06:002009-11-12T23:19:06.066-06:00Thursday's Random ThoughtsIf you've stopped by my blog much, you know I'm very inconsistent in my postings. I just can't seem to find the time. Trying to figure out completely different schedules for three kids has been a bit of a challenge for me. I'll get there one day, though! Tonight, I found a quiet minute (when I should be cleaning) and thought I would post my most recent random thoughts. So, here goes:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvmFfDMINLtVF2zTEeWzP-7bxlq0I6MA6jbL6Vq3Xv6I2dqedkLIXCSGutc5lp4JWIumSttjWwHDeSm2i2Ud3gaU3kJvEhUbW5sh4zUBXQDHA8a5FKaaf04N2oDKUPoeuf5fIOh1F0Hg/s1600-h/twitter.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 118px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvmFfDMINLtVF2zTEeWzP-7bxlq0I6MA6jbL6Vq3Xv6I2dqedkLIXCSGutc5lp4JWIumSttjWwHDeSm2i2Ud3gaU3kJvEhUbW5sh4zUBXQDHA8a5FKaaf04N2oDKUPoeuf5fIOh1F0Hg/s320/twitter.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403453103933007170" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">Road rage. What happened to it? Remember when road rage was all the rage? It seemed like you couldn't watch the news without seeing a story about some driver who went ballistic because he was cut off on the interstate. Daily, we heard crazy stories about drivers who went completely ballistic. What happened to those drivers? Did they disappear? Or did the news stop covering it? Hmmm...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Has anyone seen the commercial for the Temper Pedic bed? It's the one where the bed is on the hillside. Some couple wakes up all refreshed. But seriously, what's up with the hillside? Is it common for people to take their queen size beds out to the hillside to sleep? Just wondering.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">If you've ever watched anything with Tyra Banks, whether it be America's Top Model or The Tyra Show (is that what it's called~her talk show?), you will notice TONS of pictures of Miss Tyra Banks. I mean, I know she was a famous super model, but does she really have to be in every single picture? It cracks me up. Maybe she's afraid we'll forget she was a famous super model? Maybe she's afraid she'll lose her "fierceness"? </span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I remember seeing her pregnant. I've even seen the pictures of her new baby, but I have to ask...did Elisabeth Hasselbeck actually have a baby?!? I mean, the woman, after giving birth two months ago, looks tinier than ever. How is that possible?! I mean, I've had friends get small pretty quickly, but they had almost non-existent pregnant bellies. Elisabeth wasn't huge by any means, but she had a baby belly. How did she lose it so quickly? Man!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Does anyone else have a hard time deleting pictures of their kids? I have the hardest time. Whatever I use to take their pictures, whether it be my phone or camera, I upload them to the computer, and I still don't want to delete them off my camera or phone. It's so hard! I start to, then I see the picture and think, "I may need this. That's my baby. How can I delete him/her?" Even with not-so-flattering pictures. It's something I really have to work on.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Do you Twitter? Tweet? Whatever? Ok, so I've spent lots of time making fun of it on my random thoughts (tongue in cheek, of course). Then, I got this new phone that I love and thought I would give it a shot; not to update everyone about my every move, rather, to find out when stores are having sales and to check in on funny people and people that have interesting things to say...or, so I thought. So I started getting tweets on my phone and HATE it! It's just as bad as I thought it would be. As I'm typing this, I am getting a tweet. AGH! SHUT IT OFF! ;) I know a lot of people out there like it. I'm just not one of them. I thought I cared what people are doing, but I don't. I really don't. It is so time consuming. My phone is constantly beeping (and I'm only following a few people on my phone), and I never know if it's a text that I need to check right away or if it's some tweet announcing that so and so is heading to the gym (yes, I follow some pastors for inspirational thoughts, and that's what I get). I would go ahead and delete people from my phone, but I have to look up how to do that again. I keep forgetting! I plan to leave a couple (like children's stores that I want updates from), other than that, Twitter's gotta go. It's not that I don't love my friends. I just barely have enough time to keep up with my own family, much less everyone's else's dinner schedules. :)</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I know my boys have been in school for more than two months, but I am still having a hard time getting their schedules and Rhiannon's schedules down pat every day. There just isn't enough time between trips, it seems. And what I've noticed is that the more I try to prepare the night before, the later I am the next day. I can get all the clothes ironed and ready, lunches and snacks made, get up early, and the next day, something will happen to make us late. On the flip side, I can stay up late, do nothing the night before, get up and rush around to get ready, and we're right on time. What's up with that? It happens ALL THE TIME!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Ok, I'm just going to say it...Lane Kiffin is a big fat crybaby. He is. I understand. He's 34. He's young, but still..come on! Grow up! Lane Kiffin, quit running your mouth about how you're going to beat this team and that team, how this coach is cheating, and that official is unfair. Grow up. Some people say he's just ballsy and/or he's just overly confident. I don't think it's either of those things. I think he's incredibly immature, and one day, I think he'll be embarrassed by how he's behaved over the past few months. Just my thoughts. For now, though, he's got a mess on his hands with his jailbird football players. Good luck with that, Coach Kiffin.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Speaking of the jailbirds, check this out! The three UT players that committed an armed robbery of a couple at a Pilot gas station, were arrested; however, one of the victims of the crime said that he believes the guys should still be able to play football...that they shouldn't be suspended. Ok, are you KIDDING ME?!? I mean, is this guy that big of a UT fan that he is willing to overlook having a gun pointed at him? Really? Does he have a bet on this weekend's game or what?!? Ok, I love me some Alabama Crimson Tide, but if Greg McElroy comes at me with a gun while demanding my purse, no way I'm going to beg Coach Saban to let him play. That's NUTS!</span><br /><br />I<span style="font-style: italic;">n the past month, at completely separate times, both my mother and husband have mentioned a possible part-time job for me (and they were totally serious). Wanna know what the job is? Driving a school bus. That's right. Me, the girl who failed her first drivers' test at the age of 17, they want to commandeer a large moving vehicle full of screaming kids through a busy and crowded little town. They BOTH brought this idea up to me, not knowing the other had mentioned it to me as well. Can you believe that?!? They must both really want me to have a job! Ok, I would flatten cars if I ever drove a school bus!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I want to close with this question...is it possible to hear "Bohemian Rhapsody" without immediately thinking about Wayne's World? It's not for me, is it for you?</span><br /><br />That's it, people. I have more, but I'll spare you. And <span style="font-style: italic;">you're welcome</span>! Now, if you want to make my day, you'll leave me some of your random thoughts. :) So, please make my day!<br />ROLL TIDE & GO DAWGS!!!!!!!!!!!!!annieckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07303230705273162561noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1473820997385712460.post-53322839590986952702009-11-07T07:14:00.002-06:002009-11-07T07:21:45.958-06:00A Word from the WiseI came across this quote from C.S. Lewis this morning as I was reading through a book. It really stood out to me.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">There is one vice of which no man in the world is free; which everyone in the world loathes when he sees it in someone else; and of which hardly any people, except Christians ever imagine that they are guilty themselves... The essential vice, the utmost evil, is pride. Unchastity, anger, greed, drunkenness, and all that, are mere fleebites in comparison: it was through pride that the devil became the devil; pride leads to every other vice: it is the complete anti-God state of mind... As long as you are proud you cannot know God. A proud man is always looking down on things and people; and, of course, as long as you are looking down, you cannot see something that is above you.</span><br /><br />~C.S. Lewisannieckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07303230705273162561noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1473820997385712460.post-71774406248655880362009-11-06T08:30:00.003-06:002009-11-06T08:35:00.326-06:00My Favorite Costume of 2009Is this costume super creative or what?! My sweet friend, Carrie Anne, came up with this all on her own. She's <span style="font-style: italic;">one of those</span>...one of those creative types. I can only imagine. :)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8RmsN55QnDzDPxaL_4chhl0H3ea-1My8L-b2F0-6NL6Kz7cQiBDVhZFlQlB8hF-UPrb7IFb8lmH-xiQEEU5F0ZCMiRzTWyNmTPy8s6HAmsY0fx4XA7Uyw32_W0UTcqNkHdcR65LmrOA/s1600-h/face.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8RmsN55QnDzDPxaL_4chhl0H3ea-1My8L-b2F0-6NL6Kz7cQiBDVhZFlQlB8hF-UPrb7IFb8lmH-xiQEEU5F0ZCMiRzTWyNmTPy8s6HAmsY0fx4XA7Uyw32_W0UTcqNkHdcR65LmrOA/s400/face.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400998667022243986" border="0" /></a>LOVE this costume! Her costume is so amazing, you almost miss how great her husband's is. Gotta love overweight Elvis! AND...have you ever seen a cuter little fish??? I think not.<br /><br />Thanks for letting me share, CA!annieckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07303230705273162561noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1473820997385712460.post-37324219311337045862009-11-06T08:21:00.006-06:002009-11-06T08:28:06.988-06:00Who Knew?I certainly didn't. I never could have imagined just how much I could love a little girl. Now I know, and I can't get enough of my little princess (which, btw, is something I said I would <span style="font-style: italic;">never</span> call her. Go figure).<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSZRazTSWIU33JWIWk6Cm7bJLFEoIP7b5HgsGnxXXxUSCzejnelhnfI0DrNX6MNkP1h47E_u6pMboZwmiThb2cuH_sKJg9ruTZt21Gg6AE5DPo-RXIYA3hTqt097b6cOJ7ReXjxJWIOg/s1600-h/p3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSZRazTSWIU33JWIWk6Cm7bJLFEoIP7b5HgsGnxXXxUSCzejnelhnfI0DrNX6MNkP1h47E_u6pMboZwmiThb2cuH_sKJg9ruTZt21Gg6AE5DPo-RXIYA3hTqt097b6cOJ7ReXjxJWIOg/s400/p3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400996109528263650" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnL5qCCoTfv7Zt2N0VnVUdXyc3TDBU74Dj1gpaAPDORHI5_4b0GyZ2CR2_ibmQW19dwU6b4RAtpGexGQotyDyADYPN7C3zHmFqBva-O9y7vMHFh0gWeV6fln1eeOfII-QEaizP6cSfbQ/s1600-h/p.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnL5qCCoTfv7Zt2N0VnVUdXyc3TDBU74Dj1gpaAPDORHI5_4b0GyZ2CR2_ibmQW19dwU6b4RAtpGexGQotyDyADYPN7C3zHmFqBva-O9y7vMHFh0gWeV6fln1eeOfII-QEaizP6cSfbQ/s320/p.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400996265025555186" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6FgjA9d0F5eDGWc4HmgY01nPvgGHip3GM4pBgHYqB6T6FEDtBcink4wARAz8L5myVkLQrekkt_ih7R457cV9j48_nrKNYavts6z8XJcOMv5Op5hFX4BigACPyZ_xnRqNY9squP_MRjQ/s1600-h/p4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6FgjA9d0F5eDGWc4HmgY01nPvgGHip3GM4pBgHYqB6T6FEDtBcink4wARAz8L5myVkLQrekkt_ih7R457cV9j48_nrKNYavts6z8XJcOMv5Op5hFX4BigACPyZ_xnRqNY9squP_MRjQ/s320/p4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400996359927321506" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVcNK2M-702zi7tg_kSrPclHnEvXrWP2_DA6HbknSKpmBpbRB4vZy-tCelaIZ5YsZ4fYSa8qje_go1iCJOGMNWm5vwtA0fJGD4G4Mj_xa-lu7CdzDetxR8qtKJCzfsjLlzjYDn7Cq-lQ/s1600-h/p2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVcNK2M-702zi7tg_kSrPclHnEvXrWP2_DA6HbknSKpmBpbRB4vZy-tCelaIZ5YsZ4fYSa8qje_go1iCJOGMNWm5vwtA0fJGD4G4Mj_xa-lu7CdzDetxR8qtKJCzfsjLlzjYDn7Cq-lQ/s320/p2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400997098731416850" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigv_v6CM5oqu0xiSYLl7SL4wo3PvfjD99JibZqHdRq_ewv7zxAzR0EoWcNiSPotNRMsiWsGa4xNOijlfSp5No0pPMEpRimHUqbXXSPmmnhtEOfwBYVKpT3uIORLu05e6NgbulnOQ4DPw/s1600-h/p1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigv_v6CM5oqu0xiSYLl7SL4wo3PvfjD99JibZqHdRq_ewv7zxAzR0EoWcNiSPotNRMsiWsGa4xNOijlfSp5No0pPMEpRimHUqbXXSPmmnhtEOfwBYVKpT3uIORLu05e6NgbulnOQ4DPw/s320/p1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400996268807322546" border="0" /></a>annieckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07303230705273162561noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1473820997385712460.post-52145054859839407232009-11-05T16:33:00.004-06:002009-11-05T17:01:49.848-06:00Tuesday Morning on a Thursday AfternoonDoes your town have a Tuesday Morning? Mine does, but I often forget about it. Lately, though, it's been catching my eye. Until today, it had been about two years or so since I had been in. Since I only had one of the kids with me today, I thought it would be the perfect time to stop in and check out the merchandise.<br />I found some good loot and, well, some strange things. I kept finding so many unique things, I had to take out my cell phone and start taking pictures (have I mentioned lately how much I enjoy my phone? It's GREAT!). I'm pretty sure my fellow shoppers (and the workers in the store) thought I was pretty weird, but I didn't care.<br />Check out my finds:<br /><br />First, I'll show you a couple of things I liked. For instance, this dress was super cute! The picture doesn't do it justice. For those Bama fans out there, this houndstooth coat has a super cute a-line button dress beneath it and a hat (I don't really dig the hat, but I know it's in style right now. I've seen it everywhere). I would have gotten it for my Rhi, but the smallest they had was like a 3T or something.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis-SU7K1ErqZpmmylhX0svIXJJcv6ozS59dao2ASifnCLsPUMvyhVtRUqxf4IyOdlXk_HUy-xY3RGwENBZ74YtEzIugyXhagXAb16DCJv5o8XB-ITuFy7xyefLxChiHysu1OeeWK3Ytw/s1600-h/tm5.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis-SU7K1ErqZpmmylhX0svIXJJcv6ozS59dao2ASifnCLsPUMvyhVtRUqxf4IyOdlXk_HUy-xY3RGwENBZ74YtEzIugyXhagXAb16DCJv5o8XB-ITuFy7xyefLxChiHysu1OeeWK3Ytw/s320/tm5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400752475985100114" border="0" /></a> Another good find were these acrylic pitchers and cups. They had a few teams represented but none that I cared about it. I <span style="font-style: italic;">was</span> able to lead a friend to a Tennessee pitcher, so that was good....I think. She was pleased, anyway. This is an Ole Miss set. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoO1dvuXhDqBLK0EEZ4lYkyh4vseER8QT5hyphenhyphenjO4Q12Kg494akWJ_y5qq1zcPo1Ovom1-tXzDiD2Xsgx_UTyioPbtbQ3O2xmxwaFFyx7EcC-pRGfkLH_IqIIqa8Hq_19XdqHefLelOM8w/s1600-h/tm.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoO1dvuXhDqBLK0EEZ4lYkyh4vseER8QT5hyphenhyphenjO4Q12Kg494akWJ_y5qq1zcPo1Ovom1-tXzDiD2Xsgx_UTyioPbtbQ3O2xmxwaFFyx7EcC-pRGfkLH_IqIIqa8Hq_19XdqHefLelOM8w/s320/tm.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400752245053331986" border="0" /></a>Now on to the strange. Let's start with the dolls. First off, these Juicy Couture dolls. This pack of dolls costs $50! Seriously, $50. I'm sorry, but $50 for a couple of Barbies seems crazy! They are <span style="font-style: italic;">very</span> pretty, though. :)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLEukG9CCAN6YRro14NfE-lRD3JXZ2s_IfSjrWeHFkrkFdfhZZ25DCDe6C9CZ9iqJ6r-jTqadM668tNx4D8tjLNG4y4Zh_U7W0bnyRfCnNwa3AzZuAl-E_xoOQt5uzf_geI753h6A5Pw/s1600-h/tm8.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLEukG9CCAN6YRro14NfE-lRD3JXZ2s_IfSjrWeHFkrkFdfhZZ25DCDe6C9CZ9iqJ6r-jTqadM668tNx4D8tjLNG4y4Zh_U7W0bnyRfCnNwa3AzZuAl-E_xoOQt5uzf_geI753h6A5Pw/s320/tm8.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400752485794072370" border="0" /></a>Then I found this Boho Barbie. She and her packaging just looked strange to me.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi25EMquVVZH-TZL1HTScLpKPnuUQNF8Uaau5vwC-MvEEaxi7_KPjVo0t255_tSNK7GEjfkQDYx39OELIeZ1xHiHe7Q3xsWX_bO59C7jL5E9-gNA-bDe1JVw-au4UhJgrMsto_aLvxPaA/s1600-h/tm1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi25EMquVVZH-TZL1HTScLpKPnuUQNF8Uaau5vwC-MvEEaxi7_KPjVo0t255_tSNK7GEjfkQDYx39OELIeZ1xHiHe7Q3xsWX_bO59C7jL5E9-gNA-bDe1JVw-au4UhJgrMsto_aLvxPaA/s320/tm1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400752246723755362" border="0" /></a>This Barbie really disturbed me. It is Little Red Riding Hood Barbie (an official Barbie). Ok, um, is it just me or is she way too sexy to be a Barbie for LITTLE GIRLS?!? Check her out. Her outfit is incredibly revealing. Her pose is too much, and the wolf....oh my! She should be called Little Red Riding Hooker, not Hood.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitviOPRuVrtjBZmnh__y2q4R3iJuBu6Vm0WdOpwGqxJbqhSe2YyVnbNKpCZHin3kCz3b85jHh5GvBhebPS-NONH8PYWyp2FmPFCDg8Upchwv7eItIeVcpztWA-PIJN4bOzt2bwpnqiIw/s1600-h/tm6.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitviOPRuVrtjBZmnh__y2q4R3iJuBu6Vm0WdOpwGqxJbqhSe2YyVnbNKpCZHin3kCz3b85jHh5GvBhebPS-NONH8PYWyp2FmPFCDg8Upchwv7eItIeVcpztWA-PIJN4bOzt2bwpnqiIw/s320/tm6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400752481034398322" border="0" /></a>A recurring theme for the dolls in Tuesday Morning, as I noticed today...hair nets. I saw so many dolls, like this one, with hair nets on. Is it just me, or is this strange? I've never bought (or seen before today) a doll with a hair net. Maybe they all work in restaurants?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKZZB03ThinuQuHdxaL3XVxd-hbV1yatNqYkJEE8cFguKzSqnyU66klabJY1GuYGMrniSUvczXrUBiqP0PNYkLlhSUZKOAMTD9E1rFr6U1sfOmz-H1mBWr-zNh5FG454Q7u37bITlbsw/s1600-h/tm9.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKZZB03ThinuQuHdxaL3XVxd-hbV1yatNqYkJEE8cFguKzSqnyU66klabJY1GuYGMrniSUvczXrUBiqP0PNYkLlhSUZKOAMTD9E1rFr6U1sfOmz-H1mBWr-zNh5FG454Q7u37bITlbsw/s320/tm9.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400752488462359522" border="0" /></a>Here's another one with a hair net. Actually it's a whole head net.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjirvlWuLxJFMTUtmjNAYMpfcNlbfIgZZec2YjST3vIUtdKrM5_G6EXEYi85L2risHzIgG2eCBp7Xl0iGQlWQgm7AOw2Ed2C6fl3TGdtROgNpHHOyZ2WBOIT7hu8hOtnT8Z7kj1keA7Og/s1600-h/tm4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjirvlWuLxJFMTUtmjNAYMpfcNlbfIgZZec2YjST3vIUtdKrM5_G6EXEYi85L2risHzIgG2eCBp7Xl0iGQlWQgm7AOw2Ed2C6fl3TGdtROgNpHHOyZ2WBOIT7hu8hOtnT8Z7kj1keA7Og/s320/tm4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400752257545528562" border="0" /></a>Then I found these shoes. The picture says it all, doesn't it? I mean, bright yellow fuzzy croc-<span style="font-style: italic;">ish</span> shoes. Does it get any <span style="font-style: italic;">cooler </span>than that?<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9KsdkKjxZlutlnptdkuR6cQI5ZbKS_dSIfpo2GsI_96ryRd3Kkm_ubM4Yu0qJ6LrbvtqbB8cDhtlecsvWg7UNLXd0nOBSh-70TvCanrcWmKD1DYHzsuCWqm_NBF9H8BvyEvd1EsoH2g/s1600-h/tm3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9KsdkKjxZlutlnptdkuR6cQI5ZbKS_dSIfpo2GsI_96ryRd3Kkm_ubM4Yu0qJ6LrbvtqbB8cDhtlecsvWg7UNLXd0nOBSh-70TvCanrcWmKD1DYHzsuCWqm_NBF9H8BvyEvd1EsoH2g/s320/tm3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400752255529416066" border="0" /></a>Finally, my favorite find. The ENORMOUS remote control. I'm not kidding, people. This thing was H-U-G-E! The picture does not do it justice. I wish I had measured it next to my arm or something. I don't know if you can tell from the couple pictured at the bottom of the box, but there is no way this remote is getting lost. It's almost as big as an actual t.v.! Who wants a remote that big?!? I guess someone elderly who can't see the buttons, but check out the couple on the box. They're not old. What gives?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEpjRehyiQJOSULe3VegB396fNGTBWHrWWjHNp_v4vhLaRgSPYUXkJDDa_SavhjglKUrUsVsYntpQo2U03LYFNjIu_-spl2h7m-Q6Gcr16zDvD9KqUORrNBH9SnLzHiBKYVpGB-U8_lg/s1600-h/tm2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEpjRehyiQJOSULe3VegB396fNGTBWHrWWjHNp_v4vhLaRgSPYUXkJDDa_SavhjglKUrUsVsYntpQo2U03LYFNjIu_-spl2h7m-Q6Gcr16zDvD9KqUORrNBH9SnLzHiBKYVpGB-U8_lg/s320/tm2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400752249106839330" border="0" /></a>So that's what I found today. It was quite entertaining. I'm so glad I stopped in! :)<br />Stay tuned for <span style="font-style: italic;">Thursday's Random Thoughts</span>. I have them ready and am hoping to find a minute to type them out. Will I find the time? Only time will tell, I guess!annieckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07303230705273162561noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1473820997385712460.post-6022163710077044502009-11-02T15:56:00.002-06:002009-11-02T16:13:51.694-06:00This Shirt Must Make My Girl Happy<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRWH1WNKJtEMa83szRtIKU_MpQ9kznTOLWgq90YMtsL31kw6rL-NHEC5dWK_Z98Wd8fYdvPjg9SKi1sH2dw7G1GJ_MLkdgy6pLOxF8t_DwAZ6RFVdKi6adaOM1w5yQeKhBdLVqiAbh_A/s1600-h/rhia.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRWH1WNKJtEMa83szRtIKU_MpQ9kznTOLWgq90YMtsL31kw6rL-NHEC5dWK_Z98Wd8fYdvPjg9SKi1sH2dw7G1GJ_MLkdgy6pLOxF8t_DwAZ6RFVdKi6adaOM1w5yQeKhBdLVqiAbh_A/s400/rhia.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399628616238070034" border="0" /></a>Look how she beams every time she wears it!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHSgcUwRZYf2B-5w91LP8EKzTamaI-zfxL2WGkKTyDoUpzVs_A0uuNg3s0yY08KhZNXeYCBl7RNEJCHjwxvaK6-CpuRNCVkT157lfG4eKjNVUKKZyWUpvl0qpr2cW88VUQ6OVQso6XaQ/s1600-h/rhia1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHSgcUwRZYf2B-5w91LP8EKzTamaI-zfxL2WGkKTyDoUpzVs_A0uuNg3s0yY08KhZNXeYCBl7RNEJCHjwxvaK6-CpuRNCVkT157lfG4eKjNVUKKZyWUpvl0qpr2cW88VUQ6OVQso6XaQ/s400/rhia1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399628621077493154" border="0" /></a>My sweet Rhi Rhi girl. I love this girl beyond measure! What did the boys and I ever do without her???<br /><br />Lately, she's become a big fan of sucking her toes and blowing bubbles. She also enjoys sucking her bottom lip. She's not really into the paci anymore, but that shouldn't surprise me. My boys never liked pacifiers either. Oh well. That will probably make it easier on me, I guess.<br />Her hair is already showing signs of future curls in the waves it produces when wet or in humid weather. Shocker, right?! She looks just like her daddy. I just can't get over the fact that I may have three curly headed kids. Who has <span style="font-style: italic;">three</span> kids with curly hair?!? How often does<span style="font-style: italic;"> that </span>happen??? I LOVE it!!!<br />She is showing signs of teething, which hasn't made for a fun week. I give her Hyland's natural teething tablets, but she still wakes up in the middle of the night (she loves the 1:30/2:00 am hour).<br />She's a momma's girl but always saves big smiles for her daddy and brothers. <br />Speaking of big smiles, the best way to get this girl to smile at you is to give her a compliment. She can't get enough of those and always returns a compliment with a grin.<br />She still loves her tummy tub; always happy to take a bath.<br />She's very ticklish.<br />She reached for someone for the very first time this past weekend. While in Ozark visiting my family, she reached for Aunt Vicki. It was the first time ever. Later, she reached for me. SO sweet!<br />Her eyes are turning brown. At two months old, I was sure she would be a blue eyed girl like her brother, Tristan. Her eyes were getting so light. Now, the centers are brown and the outsides are blue. They are definitely changing. She's going to have her daddy's beautiful browns. Yet more proof that my kids are destined to look like their daddy's side of the family.<br />She loves her bouncy seat and can really get it moving. She moves her left leg up and down super fast and keeps it in constant motion. That is something my boys never did. They were content to sit in the seat while it vibrated.<br />She hates to have her nails cut, so they're almost always too long.<br />She's constantly talking and making sweet noise.<br />Rhiannon hardly ever cries. She usually reserves her crying for times when she's hungry or sleepy. <br /><br />These are just a few of the things going on with my sweet Rhi Rhi girl these days. She is such an incredibly blessing and proof that God sure does love us!annieckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07303230705273162561noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1473820997385712460.post-14958047484406781132009-11-02T15:42:00.006-06:002009-11-02T15:54:38.495-06:00What to Do to Fill the Time......on a three hour car ride:<br /><br />Take crazy pictures with your cell phone, of course! Your family does this, right???<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIKPkTK4vw2Kpyo07G_W7b1M-dbmUd4pIKYjvtAQDghFk8eysscoXdeZ1fa6QSwtgE1TIBBTrslmlT7jvQ9MOv9Pl1HIUbQtiIaBOTp8m6_qCR8B1kJ-NvD5UsX7lri48VZi-dUvc2ng/s1600-h/car.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIKPkTK4vw2Kpyo07G_W7b1M-dbmUd4pIKYjvtAQDghFk8eysscoXdeZ1fa6QSwtgE1TIBBTrslmlT7jvQ9MOv9Pl1HIUbQtiIaBOTp8m6_qCR8B1kJ-NvD5UsX7lri48VZi-dUvc2ng/s320/car.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399625324526413458" border="0" /></a>Asher's "scary face". LOVE it!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTNgwZZF3XKZsEu886G9M7gs_PM8zTkJKfwi5TGbPObhqGF_ALVpPKgIjaxSeIhEbXiJRYgIjfyRMVpVNa-f0tX-JP6wdYjFmq64svSnvHaOFh-AxoKLOkxDQAPgK5RGhAx7N5UyRmlQ/s1600-h/car2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTNgwZZF3XKZsEu886G9M7gs_PM8zTkJKfwi5TGbPObhqGF_ALVpPKgIjaxSeIhEbXiJRYgIjfyRMVpVNa-f0tX-JP6wdYjFmq64svSnvHaOFh-AxoKLOkxDQAPgK5RGhAx7N5UyRmlQ/s320/car2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399625335881846818" border="0" /></a>Crazy couple shot (and <span style="font-style: italic;">yes</span>, he was driving):<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc7GSVWNotvctCZcp7rGpyPhaGmeKt3KJF4TVcaVhrSyvF4B3skS8rVHJJDaGPvFoV9iSbXKFC3Tfcb24scroqHDgD-3C-mKc_irdQ7Ht3qsy8vK6UaKG3QFwbzAtgffF5ancckfc28g/s1600-h/car1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc7GSVWNotvctCZcp7rGpyPhaGmeKt3KJF4TVcaVhrSyvF4B3skS8rVHJJDaGPvFoV9iSbXKFC3Tfcb24scroqHDgD-3C-mKc_irdQ7Ht3qsy8vK6UaKG3QFwbzAtgffF5ancckfc28g/s320/car1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399625330580697106" border="0" /></a>Tristan doing his best to tune us out:<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlj_AxIuR3tWzlNNqBVDBCszbHf5W72XLqGaQL8bJyBtZGhrcEU7jVSulfG3v3jwvgHjIIWv9F5JyU-IM8uGupnaNUXtJwdgqBbcTr6-yXmRulBsks9bneMuQkUEPXBsDIZLM9743xBg/s1600-h/car3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlj_AxIuR3tWzlNNqBVDBCszbHf5W72XLqGaQL8bJyBtZGhrcEU7jVSulfG3v3jwvgHjIIWv9F5JyU-IM8uGupnaNUXtJwdgqBbcTr6-yXmRulBsks9bneMuQkUEPXBsDIZLM9743xBg/s320/car3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399625340532574098" border="0" /></a>Our often un-talked about son, Felipe (aka: Flipper, Bubsy, Bubbits, Bibbs, Fleepster...the list goes on):<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3eSJe8i5zJCNvzqFxCOmrfLU43hyphenhyphenn-CZ2vpiX_6pIu8fRxUTwaprlfizcT26mF3C3pEbaFAtaUGeSQOMyCMFgEbcWDwpvzcERnRG6MBnj0xEk1D3v_R7Vo8IcL6p_8Fr1nByMDWqC6A/s1600-h/car4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3eSJe8i5zJCNvzqFxCOmrfLU43hyphenhyphenn-CZ2vpiX_6pIu8fRxUTwaprlfizcT26mF3C3pEbaFAtaUGeSQOMyCMFgEbcWDwpvzcERnRG6MBnj0xEk1D3v_R7Vo8IcL6p_8Fr1nByMDWqC6A/s320/car4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399625340100728194" border="0" /></a>My <span style="font-style: italic;">absolute favorite</span> picture on this post!!! It's my favorite because of the name Asher gave it. This is his "honkin' shhhh" face. Can anyone guess what <span style="font-style: italic;">honkin' shhhh</span> means???? Tune in for another post about this to see if you got it right. CRACKS ME UP!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_LZF9UTmPekBRo3R6ydQ7kQiybtKSn48MTtHf5n1wfFxlsmbM5aHNGGvNwFDUbUqqwKHRTFsGJXwVmPiIjuf3B5iWYaZvSPU6meEc0ycP7kJF5GThkkQwBcxXUkAb_eFSVVfL2DSA5g/s1600-h/car5.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_LZF9UTmPekBRo3R6ydQ7kQiybtKSn48MTtHf5n1wfFxlsmbM5aHNGGvNwFDUbUqqwKHRTFsGJXwVmPiIjuf3B5iWYaZvSPU6meEc0ycP7kJF5GThkkQwBcxXUkAb_eFSVVfL2DSA5g/s320/car5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399625547986951602" border="0" /></a>One of Channing's favorite crazy faces to make:<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8xSaSBGzNrA22TNvqsTmU0Tol-PbsBPfrMTMTbhFSzC0QXdqpU5rzY3w9DYn1iCGr5r_TvWx7x-nl4xxivsF949wGDiKvZANFx7Y9Pfe2ZotcprwXD7Vo94nex3zGM5lvxgwG5PJnkg/s1600-h/cara6.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8xSaSBGzNrA22TNvqsTmU0Tol-PbsBPfrMTMTbhFSzC0QXdqpU5rzY3w9DYn1iCGr5r_TvWx7x-nl4xxivsF949wGDiKvZANFx7Y9Pfe2ZotcprwXD7Vo94nex3zGM5lvxgwG5PJnkg/s320/cara6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399625555802954610" border="0" /></a>As it was getting darker, we managed to fit in one more shot:<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKn4HV7RLqPN_xjgzJ8K1jSwpl6HLXhiAqigzyYV6St0-oRIDzfN3tCYLh2Dd_9-dqHtD_-K2vxYrsAvgKR8e1kOMxfx3g3QVOUmWnO4j3rBsHQuj_6IMkLEVeoLdKYGHcP7_uEoODkw/s1600-h/car7.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKn4HV7RLqPN_xjgzJ8K1jSwpl6HLXhiAqigzyYV6St0-oRIDzfN3tCYLh2Dd_9-dqHtD_-K2vxYrsAvgKR8e1kOMxfx3g3QVOUmWnO4j3rBsHQuj_6IMkLEVeoLdKYGHcP7_uEoODkw/s320/car7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5399625564158356914" border="0" /></a>Three hours can sometimes be a long ride, but my kiddos are riding champs. We hardly ever have any trouble out of them in the car. What a blessing, right?!? Rhiannon was in the car with us, but she was turned around backwards, so it was impossible for me to get any shots of her. That's ok, though, because she just slept the whole time. She chipped in to make sure the ride was an ease. :)annieckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07303230705273162561noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1473820997385712460.post-8501882161763977042009-10-30T08:08:00.004-05:002009-10-30T08:17:54.831-05:00Thursday's Random Thoughts...On FridaySort of...<br />I have so much going on this week, I really don't have time to put down my random thoughts. I have them all stored in my phone and will be ready to share them next week. Hopefully things will be back to normal by then!<br />I'll leave you with two, though.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgimEYpXxFMhOyYenz-6KMPyFi2Y878Qrlvm4LwR88f0V4Qy7mdP-8-ASxS0aK9UUMQDYMjnD09Qy9jw6g3LKghJJxCIifUcv3n0bONtPtPqqAd7ep1s5mp219GP9dexk4zikl6oOtM7g/s1600-h/Bud-Light-Golden-Wheat-6_pack.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgimEYpXxFMhOyYenz-6KMPyFi2Y878Qrlvm4LwR88f0V4Qy7mdP-8-ASxS0aK9UUMQDYMjnD09Qy9jw6g3LKghJJxCIifUcv3n0bONtPtPqqAd7ep1s5mp219GP9dexk4zikl6oOtM7g/s320/Bud-Light-Golden-Wheat-6_pack.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398381162901990514" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">So I saw a commercial for Bud Light advertising wheat beer. Seriously, Bud Light? Wheat beer? What have things come to when we're grasping at straws when trying to make beer healthy? I mean, ok if you want your beer to be a little healthier, but to me, this is just going to give men an excuse to drink more beer. "Honey, I haven't had my wheat today. I better swing by and pick up some Bud Light." "Honey, you know I only drink so much because I'm trying to catch up on my wheat intake!" I can hear it all now. Not from my husband, but just in general. Wheat beer...too funny. <span style="font-weight: bold;"> THERE'S PROBABLY SOME OTHER REASON FOR WHEAT BEER, BUT THIS IS ALL I COULD THINK OF WHEN I SAW THE COMMERCIAL.</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Life is so fast. Make sure you love those around you. You never know if this may be the last time you ever see them. Not always easy to remember, but it's true.</span><br /><br />Ok, stay tuned for next week. I'll probably have an overload of thoughts to share! Have a great weekend, and BE SAFE!annieckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07303230705273162561noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1473820997385712460.post-41131858994755277112009-10-30T08:00:00.003-05:002009-10-30T08:08:06.181-05:00Good Mannered Super HeroDo you know what that is? I must say, when I got a note from the school saying that October 30 would be "Good Mannered Super Hero Day", I was quite confused. What is a good mannered super hero? An existing super hero with good manners? A "Thank You Man"? A super hero named after good manners? What?! I<span style="font-style: italic;"> have to figure this out and make sure my five year old is cool enough to show up at school that day without being made fun of? </span> One wrong move, and we're in trouble!<br /><br />I stressed out about this and talked to several people. Finally, we all decided that this was just our elementary school's way of letting the kids dress up while trying to ensure that no one would show up in any crazy evil scary thing. Got it. That being said, I threw any ounce of creativity I had out the window and dressed him up as Super Man. I mean, he had good manners, right?<br /><br />Here's my Super Man:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXXbYkquWGAnqzxDmkSKwq-xSreg_ZFRSJWWXcgAEnL1KmL1YTubiz7kX2aGZuv3AAbA15jpoezVvdfajnvYVyF0KSXfmUBLuaJA95SY1ffpsRfMxgqfLsgJiDanwud6eH0Wwr3GejBw/s1600-h/sh1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXXbYkquWGAnqzxDmkSKwq-xSreg_ZFRSJWWXcgAEnL1KmL1YTubiz7kX2aGZuv3AAbA15jpoezVvdfajnvYVyF0KSXfmUBLuaJA95SY1ffpsRfMxgqfLsgJiDanwud6eH0Wwr3GejBw/s320/sh1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398378502107981234" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBGMU6jNSg81v8KqWiHG-julqRzF-XtupxTSR9qmV-87vRgH4ucefNdfFfebLQo3FqJ9YQntOf9jGqqUw98NfpAANJP1vF3Ptq3ghpFvrCWVRBKx_UUt8wetb87iJcl6l2vNH_IExI1w/s1600-h/sh.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBGMU6jNSg81v8KqWiHG-julqRzF-XtupxTSR9qmV-87vRgH4ucefNdfFfebLQo3FqJ9YQntOf9jGqqUw98NfpAANJP1vF3Ptq3ghpFvrCWVRBKx_UUt8wetb87iJcl6l2vNH_IExI1w/s320/sh.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398378497443039154" border="0" /></a>One thing Channing thought of that never crossed my mind...the bathroom. What is he supposed to do when he has to go to the bathroom??? YIKES! Had NOT thought of that! I mean, Channing helped him get into this thing. Who would help him get out? What a nightmare for the kindergarten teachers today. I don't envy them!<br />I'll be at the school helping this afternoon. I'm sure I'll be unvelcroing and re-velcroing super heroes for two hours. :)annieckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07303230705273162561noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1473820997385712460.post-64639058120082168612009-10-30T07:46:00.005-05:002009-10-30T08:00:11.439-05:00Trunk or Treats & Fall FestivalsDuring this time of year, my boys love hitting up fall festivals and trunk or treats. Each year, we try to make it to our neighbor's church and Asher's school (which also happens to be at a church and was previously Tristan's school). The boys look forward to it for weeks and are always have lots of fun. Here are some of my cell phone pictures (because I'm too lazy to hook up my camera to the computer) from the two we went to this year.<br /><br />I love this picture because it shows Asher's cool hat he had made. The church had a clown table, and two super cool clowns twisted balloons for the kids. Tristan wanted a sword, but Asher wanted this hat that he saw someone else wearing. Channing and I were shocked that he actually wore it. And he did! He wore it most of the night!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir6-yTo8NXLV4LCeE5obvRzNY3JO9GycKjW-XR3eqEBwSXnZ55NVcHAhM1soz0VrtcOPmDQtIO5uHVV-L7Rt6f6KZv35Xhy7735_y2kqywb6sUR7GRTyVEOPVV58oLU8tA1MTjhPXy1w/s1600-h/trunk9.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir6-yTo8NXLV4LCeE5obvRzNY3JO9GycKjW-XR3eqEBwSXnZ55NVcHAhM1soz0VrtcOPmDQtIO5uHVV-L7Rt6f6KZv35Xhy7735_y2kqywb6sUR7GRTyVEOPVV58oLU8tA1MTjhPXy1w/s320/trunk9.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398374522317337074" border="0" /></a>Here's a shot of Tristan playing 'pick up frogs'. He must have played it 50 times!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYIWyWdi61njwYxWoCAkhuGgNTwwAK3ELtFRGW6ddPNkp-Hn892aWvogvrCR6Tdfxcv9kjY92oKnkUUAbPo1wWuDUt8zPORFI9WFAC1cYLzddRukArREaEu64eNhkpy6bQgfTMo51R9g/s1600-h/trunk10.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYIWyWdi61njwYxWoCAkhuGgNTwwAK3ELtFRGW6ddPNkp-Hn892aWvogvrCR6Tdfxcv9kjY92oKnkUUAbPo1wWuDUt8zPORFI9WFAC1cYLzddRukArREaEu64eNhkpy6bQgfTMo51R9g/s320/trunk10.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398374352070070690" border="0" /></a>On to the Trunk or Treat...<br />The boys both had other costumes, but once Asher decided to be a Georgia football player, Tristan was racing to keep up. He wasn't going to let Asher be one without him! Here are my two little bulldogs. LOVE these kids!<br />Watch out, Hershel! My boys are coming up!!!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRnuyOfZ9rM1I5rQVLNRyHS6R2pYYQrN7PTlHjUVthdV9zS5g7r9IQzUAf9zdWdMFnG17n97W5F3oIxvqNdFvPdReayNmFoUvtqvULJFOqBO4_c91jgDoaZm6FcnDXn3sZr22BLVqvtA/s1600-h/trunk7.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRnuyOfZ9rM1I5rQVLNRyHS6R2pYYQrN7PTlHjUVthdV9zS5g7r9IQzUAf9zdWdMFnG17n97W5F3oIxvqNdFvPdReayNmFoUvtqvULJFOqBO4_c91jgDoaZm6FcnDXn3sZr22BLVqvtA/s320/trunk7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398374517045397106" border="0" /></a>Rhiannon also had another costume, but with both her brothers being football players, she couldn't be left out. She's not one to go rogue. So, here is the boys' cheerleader:<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz3RMvY2hFHR7Hd2tRulx29vLfCdn0lcLyQDlrOzUTbba7dSAhKk9skA4nXQrVK4YcDO2kcG8AliZeWkLvjzcIkjaAce1jgMmvIgg5_OGGepG9kgh7KvWl4-6UCemzjV3m-wVop2X5lg/s1600-h/trunk6.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz3RMvY2hFHR7Hd2tRulx29vLfCdn0lcLyQDlrOzUTbba7dSAhKk9skA4nXQrVK4YcDO2kcG8AliZeWkLvjzcIkjaAce1jgMmvIgg5_OGGepG9kgh7KvWl4-6UCemzjV3m-wVop2X5lg/s320/trunk6.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398374513013865378" border="0" /></a>My Tristan...and one of his silly poses:<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtjxX0YMqYuVDQJ3XFsXZpGshtpHiNRXBbBPHmEMNAOpv6XQtWknfg6trklefb4l_H_LD8gUd2zkGycSJ7lVhVeyFqXoDZtclum6QY6oLxZCG2WrtlwSCNFIa7_q43F7GEdfLYfyb5cA/s1600-h/trunk4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtjxX0YMqYuVDQJ3XFsXZpGshtpHiNRXBbBPHmEMNAOpv6XQtWknfg6trklefb4l_H_LD8gUd2zkGycSJ7lVhVeyFqXoDZtclum6QY6oLxZCG2WrtlwSCNFIa7_q43F7GEdfLYfyb5cA/s320/trunk4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398374361652084754" border="0" /></a>And my sweet Asher. Can you tell what he's saying?<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD8zIRfdbW5va55Ausw4XcSMOaIJAF-LXcj-iK-5SWbCO1N79N51LTzg8Zh-j94hKCj6pjfWPjytFHHDuT7shqRlW6gvA6-CUPdK4nZ6j2e8IRwvKMnPzKNr-yK_oZtKaI0bznllSrWQ/s1600-h/trunk3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD8zIRfdbW5va55Ausw4XcSMOaIJAF-LXcj-iK-5SWbCO1N79N51LTzg8Zh-j94hKCj6pjfWPjytFHHDuT7shqRlW6gvA6-CUPdK4nZ6j2e8IRwvKMnPzKNr-yK_oZtKaI0bznllSrWQ/s320/trunk3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398374356429757058" border="0" /></a>The Trunk or Treat just provided too much excitement for Rhi. She passed out!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAer8O0zsEznbMLB_75bPDWhIGZY3UiiMh2pl4qy8UOhUTz3KKEePZ07M62nJ27ixmbgwW8fb9z6XSuSRKHSLZV7o_JyjdgRnlKVcAw-5Uy8nnCVEbLdaxQCeCcx7Lho7eBZzXtX02hA/s1600-h/trunk2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAer8O0zsEznbMLB_75bPDWhIGZY3UiiMh2pl4qy8UOhUTz3KKEePZ07M62nJ27ixmbgwW8fb9z6XSuSRKHSLZV7o_JyjdgRnlKVcAw-5Uy8nnCVEbLdaxQCeCcx7Lho7eBZzXtX02hA/s320/trunk2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398374358063430466" border="0" /></a>Asher's favorite part of the night. Forget the candy, the slide, the costumes, he was all about riding the motorcycles!!!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg98t1XVlnQjHDFURcUi5vITZRwk6NHRPD8R-cTIUQ8Q81LqQpjI4xVxhYSAAq4QGTzCnuzCfo3nU_o1qTK5uHdz6itN_AmNlIQOwIyPLWJ1l7Q7dB6qeAcKf1gx6c6F3pr-HX38fg35g/s1600-h/trunk.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg98t1XVlnQjHDFURcUi5vITZRwk6NHRPD8R-cTIUQ8Q81LqQpjI4xVxhYSAAq4QGTzCnuzCfo3nU_o1qTK5uHdz6itN_AmNlIQOwIyPLWJ1l7Q7dB6qeAcKf1gx6c6F3pr-HX38fg35g/s320/trunk.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398374347466808194" border="0" /></a><br />I would LOVE to share a picture of my favorite costume of the night. A friend of ours dressed up as a Facebook update. It was AWESOME!!! <span style="font-style: italic;">Just a little disclaimer: My friend is one of those "super creative types". I don't have an ounce of her creativity. </span> Anyway, it was super cool. If I had photoshop, I could blur out last names and post it. Alas, I don't, and I don't want to post anyone's picture without permission. Just know...REALLY cool!<br /><br />My boys (and girl) had lots of fun at their fall festivals, which always makes me happy. :)annieckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07303230705273162561noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1473820997385712460.post-12030369079641905022009-10-24T18:33:00.005-05:002009-10-24T22:00:07.279-05:00We're Not Fans of OrangeThat's right. Our family doesn't like Auburn orange, and we certainly don't like Tennessee orange. Most of all, I'm no fan of Lane Kiffin (but we'll save that rant for another day).<br /><br />Today was a big day...Alabama vs. Tennessee. Our family (minus Channing) got ready early. We had to sport our Tide-wear all day. Check out my little Tiders!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEjjbJeNa2SaEY1tVOwRfwe0FrHpCxuqdGMlr0ardqtQjhULpPaR15_cKDgeRJWzStUznkaHwdrLXxhGL-E1XM5frZltrPNss7-iMkQ9FPnB0D1RbTXBTKfYljJzhCSKHFlWOsLorzbg/s1600-h/ten1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEjjbJeNa2SaEY1tVOwRfwe0FrHpCxuqdGMlr0ardqtQjhULpPaR15_cKDgeRJWzStUznkaHwdrLXxhGL-E1XM5frZltrPNss7-iMkQ9FPnB0D1RbTXBTKfYljJzhCSKHFlWOsLorzbg/s400/ten1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396314196811832402" border="0" /></a>Isn't Rhiannon's onesie adorable?!? It was designed by one of my very best friends, <a href="http://thehairstonfamily.blogspot.com/"><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 204, 51);">Leisha</span></a>. She's so creative! Thanks, Leisha!!!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgUdwi_OtOEy7bq9-lp-2gDBhvvvqXYaXeMN9aUm2N7agxUwpYqoqZxmx79VDY3owPSD5Gx0j_lXckd2qCCJqkQSMZNB3_ugkA1Qs-dyIKd4H71SdeajPuoiVlvbhkj2t7Vwb1WSQs6A/s1600-h/ten3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgUdwi_OtOEy7bq9-lp-2gDBhvvvqXYaXeMN9aUm2N7agxUwpYqoqZxmx79VDY3owPSD5Gx0j_lXckd2qCCJqkQSMZNB3_ugkA1Qs-dyIKd4H71SdeajPuoiVlvbhkj2t7Vwb1WSQs6A/s320/ten3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396314104678357282" border="0" /></a>Have I mentioned lately how much I LOVE my baby girl??? If not, let me mention it now. I sure do love this baby girl! I think she is the sweetest, funniest, most beautiful and perfect little girl in the world. Of course, I'm not at all biased. :)<br /><br />Here's my sweet Asher. He doesn't like to look at the camera. Clearly, by looking at this picture, you can see Asher thinks today is Georgia Bulldogs day. He's doing his best Uga impersonation. :)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHKy2E-Z9MVWFKBA_5QADzt50ilvF9bsdGcUuptQ5LeWoxvosgR8tpmVB1ILyxtUS2EtO7nbrMZqValg4GLHDGYhYupXhpxZkN5rIBsLlCzL_BgXIv-g1pkaZRblsXQiYzee6p0rkMkA/s1600-h/ten2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHKy2E-Z9MVWFKBA_5QADzt50ilvF9bsdGcUuptQ5LeWoxvosgR8tpmVB1ILyxtUS2EtO7nbrMZqValg4GLHDGYhYupXhpxZkN5rIBsLlCzL_BgXIv-g1pkaZRblsXQiYzee6p0rkMkA/s320/ten2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396314103410529186" border="0" /></a>And here's my sweet Tristan. I don't know if it's the age, but he is totally into making faces every time I ask him to smile. He always has some new and crazy pose for me. This was his post at breakfast (Hardees...a special treat. You know...we just wanted to be super healthy this morning).<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcy4-mgI0scxcXS9nQkDNt7-C0T8ov5536ewjs1UOyKxP5KC_TVpNt9cvflb6ikMGt2tVkaguOhCfnsd094USjOppGSP1qlnVACv3DSouu9MZu4dahayCHiMK3tjphV5GRuf0WYdGZ4g/s1600-h/ten.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcy4-mgI0scxcXS9nQkDNt7-C0T8ov5536ewjs1UOyKxP5KC_TVpNt9cvflb6ikMGt2tVkaguOhCfnsd094USjOppGSP1qlnVACv3DSouu9MZu4dahayCHiMK3tjphV5GRuf0WYdGZ4g/s320/ten.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396314100327183394" border="0" /></a>I hope you watched the game. If you did, did your heart stop like mine did?!? COULD NOT BELIEVE IT! I'm still trying to recover. ROLL TIDE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!annieckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07303230705273162561noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1473820997385712460.post-35568491039285590512009-10-19T10:11:00.002-05:002009-10-19T10:15:06.915-05:00I'd Forgotten...just how much I loved these little outfits! Tristan wore these a lot when he was little. They're just so cute and easy. I wish he wasn't too old for them now. Alas, he is and has been for some time. So, now I get to see Asher wear them, and it totally makes my day!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPFONIZawP2CCaii_0UbNS1o81EUQ6yHgB1900_YADVDKxbbF7rfrTQcOa44slHK_K6v_KosXwK6iCmEUBIzwGeQjt4DuukzSK_tCT2ygla79HW9Q6l20xxYA6vCfNTL05y8OGReJ8gg/s1600-h/atk.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPFONIZawP2CCaii_0UbNS1o81EUQ6yHgB1900_YADVDKxbbF7rfrTQcOa44slHK_K6v_KosXwK6iCmEUBIzwGeQjt4DuukzSK_tCT2ygla79HW9Q6l20xxYA6vCfNTL05y8OGReJ8gg/s400/atk.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394329724507898962" border="0" /></a>annieckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07303230705273162561noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1473820997385712460.post-72322841874258638812009-10-16T19:53:00.003-05:002009-10-16T20:02:25.726-05:00Looks Pretty Comfy to MeI don't care what anyone says, this baby GIRL loves her sling! Does she look uncomfortable to you? <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih0oxbmeUjU19FAhiLB2j0K3Wio2w9aBsuuXVzdtIPiUIEpGMymzbYFwIcJ2USUbLHq_nI3eqhDyT58FlWhvy_ZsYwTLjIjxPf6hr4PWDWUYIW3xOFoMmU1PCD_pA5S03ckJ_OmgjvQw/s1600-h/sling.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih0oxbmeUjU19FAhiLB2j0K3Wio2w9aBsuuXVzdtIPiUIEpGMymzbYFwIcJ2USUbLHq_nI3eqhDyT58FlWhvy_ZsYwTLjIjxPf6hr4PWDWUYIW3xOFoMmU1PCD_pA5S03ckJ_OmgjvQw/s320/sling.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393366226370017442" border="0" /></a>Needless to say, I got some comments today at Chuck E Cheese's (where the pic was taken) and got lots of looks and whispers.<br />And to <span style="font-style: italic;">A</span>, a double sling would totally rock! No way you'd get any concerned glances your way; definitely no snide comments! :) Ha!<br /><br />Speaking of comments at CEC's, a woman told me Rhiannon looks just like me. Ha! I think I surprised her because I said, "Really?!", then started laughing. She said, "Um, well, uh, the eyes. I think she has your eyes." I told her I would take it because most people say she looks just like her daddy. <br />I didn't mean to laugh at her, and really, I wasn't laughing <span style="font-style: italic;">at </span>her. I was laughing because I know she doesn't look like me. I hear, at least five times a day, that she looks just like her daddy or like her brothers (who look like their daddy). So when I hear, from time to time, that she looks something like me, I just laugh. I also heard that with Asher when he was a baby (hardly ever with Tristan), and Asher looks <span style="font-style: italic;">the least</span> like me. No one ever thinks Asher looks like me now. Oh well! :) I don't care who my kids look like . I think they're beautiful and wouldn't change a thing about them!annieckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07303230705273162561noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1473820997385712460.post-18916245534170625302009-10-15T16:19:00.003-05:002009-10-15T17:07:09.205-05:00Thursday's Random ThoughtsCan you believe it's already Thursday?!? Where has this week gone?<br />Well, since it's Thursday, that means it's time for me to unleash my random crazy thoughts. I really wish some of you would share your random thoughts. That way, I wouldn't feel like the only person who has complete craziness going on in her head! ;)<br />Anyway, here goes...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXkgoC7AZ2lf8vEY1mZD4hDt7I9s7FNGrU2-oRG3AkCEkGyTMKLu6hWYJns7OYGUNB8u6snYDEpDWVnzrD3jfflYvi-KXOSrsq9yRb_gNow4pVh36hjg8o0HehXtEvu2Ibu_qjePJ-DA/s1600-h/heisman1206.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 236px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXkgoC7AZ2lf8vEY1mZD4hDt7I9s7FNGrU2-oRG3AkCEkGyTMKLu6hWYJns7OYGUNB8u6snYDEpDWVnzrD3jfflYvi-KXOSrsq9yRb_gNow4pVh36hjg8o0HehXtEvu2Ibu_qjePJ-DA/s320/heisman1206.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392951648729763298" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;">The Heisman Trophy. Now that we're mid season, we're hearing about it all the time. I mean, that's fine and all, but the Heisman Trophy stuff kind of gets under my skin. Thing is, there are a lot of super talented and hard-working players that never get Heisman attention, simply because they are not all star quarterbacks, receivers, or running backs. How about giving an outstanding defensive guy a chance? How about Rolando McClain? How about some other defensive guys from some other teams. I know the Bama defense wouldn't be 1/2 as good as they are without McClain. I say it's time to stop focusing on the showy positions in college football. Let's take a look at the other hard-working guys too.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Why is it that if you dress a baby girl in anything with blue on it, no matter how much pink accompanies it, people assume she is a boy? I get it all the time. Rhiannon will be wearing a blue dress with pink elephants and pink trim, holding a pink blanket..."What a cute little boy!" Come on, people! It's in the details! If you see poofy sleeves, even if they're blue, chances are, the baby is a girl!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Speaking of babies, why do complete strangers feel the need to offer advice (aka: criticize) people (ok, me) about their parenting? Today at the pumpkin patch, I was carrying Rhiannon in her sling. You wouldn't believe all the comments I heard in passing and had said to my face. One woman, as she passed me, was telling her friend, "Look at that baby! It's going to fall out!" She went on and on. Ok, Rhi was totally in her sling and in absolutely no danger of falling out. CRAZY! Then on the hay ride, a couple of women were going on and on about how uncomfortable the sling looked for the baby because "he" (yes, she was wearing blue...polka dots with poofy sleeves!) was all squished up. I politely smiled and told them how much the baby loves the sling (because I don't want to embarrass them for thinking she's a boy). I mean, Rhiannon was SLEEPING! Do you think she would have been sleeping had she been in pain or uncomfortable?!? Then when I got off the hay ride, a woman told me, "Why don't you take her out and put her in the stroller? Then, you can take the boys in to the bathroom, and I'll watch her for you?" Thanks for the offer, lady, but #1. I don't know you and am NOT leaving my baby with you, and #2. She's FINE! She's NOT uncomfortable! UGH! What did I do, though? I took her out (she cried), put her in her carseat, and waited for Jennifer (my friend) to watch her so I could go in. I gave in, I know.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Does every town have their own cheesy local commercials? I just don't get it. I mean, I know it's low budget and everything, but come on. They have got to have better ideas (and actors) than some of what I see around here. They make me cringe (kind of like small town local news).</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I was watching something the other day and heard the phrase, "Go to hell." I started thinking about the phrase and how awful it is. I mean, it really is awful. I wonder how many people that say it actually think about the words they're saying. Hell is the worst possible place anyone could go. Torture for eternity. Would you wish anyone there...really? Do you think the people that use the phrase actually take in what they're saying, or do you think it's just something that rolls off the tongue?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Is it just me, or is it so annoying to watch coaches covering their mouths on the sidelines when they're talking on their little headsets? DRIVES ME CRAZY! I was totally making fun of Lane Kiffin (my current least favorite coach in college football) for doing it in the Georgia/Tennessee game last weekend. I know other coaches do it, but for that one game, I pretended like he was the only one. It gave me some good laughs. I mean, it gets pure silly sometimes. They go through such extremes to try to hide what they're saying. Ha!!! I mean, sure, I guess the other team could have their hired lip readers on the sidelines, but come on.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Speaking of football games, I find it funny that some girls wear pink in the stands. If your team colors are orange and blue, chances are, most of the people in the stands are going to be wearing orange and blue. You, even though you have your team logo on your pink shirt, are going to look silly sitting in the sea of team colors while wearing your crazy pink. PINK IS NOT A FOOTBALL COLOR! There, I said it. I've gotten it off my chest. ;)</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Are my BIL and I the only ones to notice Houston Nutt's crazy play signals? You know, most coaches have random arm signals, but Houston Nutt takes it much further. His are vulgar. Last season, my bil noticed one that involved him grabbing his crotch. This year during the Alabama/Ole Miss game, one of his signals involved him pretending to pull his pants down (for a full moon). What in the world??? Really, Coach Nutt? Do you think your players wouldn't understand the more subdued signals? Baffles me.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Poor spelling really gets to me. You can imagine how tough it is for me to read some Facebook updates. UGH! I cringe when I see all the misspellings scattered about. I'm not talking about accidental letters and stuff like that, I'm talking about really really poor spelling. I try not to notice, but I do.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Speaking of misspellings, I have a hard time with texting because I don't like to spell things incorrectly just to shorten it. I'm that dork texter that texts out the whole word (also because I am SO not an lol person). So, if you get a text from me, it's like a novel. Sorry!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">What is the bejeweled game on Facebook? What are the Mafia Wars? Farmville? What is up with all the quizzes? I don't care how many bejeweled points you got, who you shot in your mafia wars, what kind of cow wandered up on your farm, or what kind of mouthwash your personality is most like. I really don't. I really wish I didn't have to see all that every time I pull up my FB account. I wish there was a "hide" button just for games and quizzes. I want to know what my friends are up to from time to time, but I don't want to see all the rest of the junk mail. I think FB should come up with something for that.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Speaking of FB updates, after reading so many meaningless updates, I started thinking about Rick and Bubba and their rules for call ins. One thing they say (not verbatim) is, before making your comment, ask yourself if people will be entertained by what you have to say. I think that could apply to FB too. If you're going to the bathroom, going to cook some toast, or taking a shower, we don't need to know about it. I doubt anyone's sitting on the edge of their seats to find out if it's your lunchtime. Maybe I'm wrong? ;)</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Every town should have a Sno Biz. It should be some sort of requirement. If there's a chamber of commerce, there should be a Sno Biz. I'm just sayin'...</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I love my kids so much. They have my heart! However, three is tough, much tougher than two. I had no idea what I was in for. Having three children is a tremendous blessing, but it is a lot of work. I have three different needs, three different schedules, car lines, crying spells, etc. It does get easier, right? :)</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I was laying by Asher at bedtime a few nights ago and was telling him a story. At some point during the story, he turned to me and said, "Mommy, you spit. You spit on me." Of course, I busted out laughing. My little two year old is basically telling me to 'say it, don't spray it.' My kids always manage to humble me.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Speaking of being humbled, at church last Sunday, one of the ushers (who appears to be about my age) saw me walking in with my carseat. He immediately walked up to me and said, "Mrs. King, Channing is right over there." MRS. KING?!? Do I look that old?!? We're like the same age, right?!? It hurt. It really hurt. It feels just as bad when a kid in their 20s says 'yes ma'am' to me. OUCH!</span><br /><br />That's all I've got for this week, folks! How about you??? This struggling mother of three would love to hear some random thoughts from someone else. It would make me feel oh so sane! :)annieckhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07303230705273162561noreply@blogger.com7