<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1945623887304456534</id><updated>2011-11-11T16:40:38.863-08:00</updated><category term='walking'/><category term='hugs'/><category term='birthday'/><category term='funny'/><category term='trips'/><category term='vacation'/><category term='Christmas'/><category term='Irongirl'/><category term='Thanksgiving'/><category term='school'/><category term='honesty'/><category term='Florida'/><category term='Talking'/><category term='Kacey'/><category term='Utah'/><category term='bicycle'/><category term='tooth'/><category term='brothers'/><category term='Sam'/><category term='blanket'/><category term='Mississippi'/><category term='seatbelt'/><category term='Nathan'/><category term='lizard'/><category term='swim team'/><category term='Jack'/><category term='Vegas'/><title type='text'>And Baby Makes Four</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Kacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514941853218782781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sme6m905d7I/AAAAAAAAANk/WChtHmENOFE/S220/P6054397.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>44</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1945623887304456534.post-997678955979282160</id><published>2011-08-26T08:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-26T09:35:22.518-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh No!!  Where Does the Time Go?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Oh no!  It's been since March of 2010 since I posted anything?  Really?  Well now that's a shame.  My kids are still cute and funny and now I feel terrible that all the cute and funny things have gone undocumented.  I did just figure out that I can post things now but backdate them to the time at which they actually happened which is good.  Wouldn't want tobe inaccurate or anything.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Quick summary...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sam turns 4 in 2 days.  He starts preschool on Tuesday and soccer for the first time some time next week.  He is a bundle of energy and keeps us laughing all the time.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9iAY4HGDS9I/TlfGs_rlRfI/AAAAAAAAASM/SbEtJPBgILA/s200/IMG_0289.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645199134242981362" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nathan is in the 3rd grade.  I feel like he's growing up WAY too fast.  He wants to play basketball this fall.  We are strongly encouraging (making) him take piano lessons and he is involved in scouts at church.  He has a wicked sense of humor and still loves to cuddle.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3MvdUTPp74o/TlfHEj4MjjI/AAAAAAAAASU/6lHpc5V0eCo/s200/IMG_0114.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645199539096555058" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We got another baby.  Oh, I mean we got a dog.    Sometimes it has felt like as much work as a baby.  His name is Cosmo.  He's  a golden retriever.  He loves us (some of us more than others) and we love him.  He's handsome too, so I'm even going to put a picture.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-q0A2WOVz6pI/TlfIMZQbukI/AAAAAAAAASc/bQUglGc5zE4/s200/IMG_1420.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5645200773196003906" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's all for now.  I can go to bed tonight with just a little less mommy guilt.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1945623887304456534-997678955979282160?l=andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/feeds/997678955979282160/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1945623887304456534&amp;postID=997678955979282160' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/997678955979282160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/997678955979282160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/2011/08/oh-no-where-does-time-go.html' title='Oh No!!  Where Does the Time Go?'/><author><name>Kacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514941853218782781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sme6m905d7I/AAAAAAAAANk/WChtHmENOFE/S220/P6054397.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9iAY4HGDS9I/TlfGs_rlRfI/AAAAAAAAASM/SbEtJPBgILA/s72-c/IMG_0289.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1945623887304456534.post-3089790604182722228</id><published>2010-03-20T16:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-20T17:03:32.337-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='seatbelt'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sam'/><title type='text'>Seat Belt Police</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The boys and I were on our way home today from the park.  We stopped at a convenience store that is within a mile or so of our home.  I am somewhat ashamed to say that I made a decision NOT to put my seat belt on because we were so close to home.  Wouldn't want to waste any energy on something so temporary.  The seat belt alarm thingie only goes off a few times between this gas station and our house.  (not that I've done it before)  As we're rounding the last curve before entering our subdivision, I hear from the back seat "seat belt pwease mom".  I didn't say a word.  Caught by a two year old.  I quickly put my seat belt on and snuck a look at him in the rear view mirror at which time he said "thanks".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;What would I do without my Sam?  Be very reckless for one thing...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1945623887304456534-3089790604182722228?l=andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/feeds/3089790604182722228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1945623887304456534&amp;postID=3089790604182722228' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/3089790604182722228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/3089790604182722228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/2010/03/seat-belt-police.html' title='Seat Belt Police'/><author><name>Kacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514941853218782781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sme6m905d7I/AAAAAAAAANk/WChtHmENOFE/S220/P6054397.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1945623887304456534.post-5874415070817064641</id><published>2010-03-20T16:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-20T17:03:51.381-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nathan'/><title type='text'>Empathy...not quite</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Recently Nathan and I were alone in the car on a regular errand to buy crickets for our ugliest family member, Jack.  I turned off the radio and tried to take advantage of our time together.  I asked him about school and how the first grade has compared with kindergarten.  He said that kindergarten was a lot more fun for obvious reasons.  I took this opportunity to tell a story about when I was in the first grade.  I  too was pining for the happier days of kindergarten.  I had two of the absolute best kindergarten teachers and I was unwilling to give my new teacher a chance. Well, on one quite terrible day of first grade our teacher had to leave the room and told us that we had better be quiet and under no circumstances should we leave our seats.  If we did, we would be in BIG trouble.  Seeing that I had decided this teacher was the biggest &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;meanie&lt;/span&gt; ever I didn't dare leave my seat even though I REALLY needed to go the little girls room.  As I remember I waited as long as I possibly could.  I even considered disobeying my teacher and going to the bathroom without permission.  In the end I did the only reasonable thing I could think of...I sat in my seat and peed my pants.  It ran down the desk and I just sat there pretending nothing had happened.  The teacher came back and of course asked me why I hadn't just gone to the restroom.  Obviously she did not understand the power of her words over a little girl who was terribly frightened of her.  So instead of going outside for recess I got to sit in the classroom, wrapped in my teachers coat while she hung my wet clothes on the heater to dry. (yuck)  As a side note, my "boyfriend" Todd kindly stayed inside with me and held my hand. When I was done relating what I considered to be a terribly sad story to Nathan about myself as a little girl in the first grade, I asked him what he thought.  He said "I have two interesting things to tell you.  Number one...I just saw a lady walking a dog and the dog had on a sweater.  Number two...I just saw a sign laying on the ground."  I hesitated for a moment hoping he had more to say that might have something to do with my story.  When he didn't I said "no Nathan, what did you think about my story?" He says "oh that, peeing in your desk is gross mom."   &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Hmmm&lt;/span&gt;...all my sensitivity training doesn't seem to be sinking in.  I will say that later as he related the story to his dad he said "isn't that sad?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1945623887304456534-5874415070817064641?l=andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/feeds/5874415070817064641/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1945623887304456534&amp;postID=5874415070817064641' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/5874415070817064641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/5874415070817064641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/2010/03/empathynot-quite.html' title='Empathy...not quite'/><author><name>Kacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514941853218782781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sme6m905d7I/AAAAAAAAANk/WChtHmENOFE/S220/P6054397.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1945623887304456534.post-8379097799775894603</id><published>2010-02-26T15:33:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-20T17:01:41.087-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sam'/><title type='text'>what's that you say?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I just ran across this and had to post it even though it is a few months old.  The video speaks for itself, but just a little setup.  At the time Sam was insisting on being potty trained.  (we have since given up on this little endeavor for a while) In this video I am interrogating him as he sits on the throne about how a big mess of  popcorn got all over the living room floor.  This is what I got.  I'm not exactly sure what he's saying but I would say based on my best interpretation, he's definitely a suspect in the crime.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-65ca861e3340c8e5" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v22.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D65ca861e3340c8e5%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331346406%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D732DEF0305E50FDF8D87C1268E6B5401C56886D8.3030A302EF5D81D42D2ECFEBA133C22F3C1D8C0E%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D65ca861e3340c8e5%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D8CixvXojZf1NZIEmzP-GhN1Vfx8&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v22.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D65ca861e3340c8e5%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331346406%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D732DEF0305E50FDF8D87C1268E6B5401C56886D8.3030A302EF5D81D42D2ECFEBA133C22F3C1D8C0E%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D65ca861e3340c8e5%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D8CixvXojZf1NZIEmzP-GhN1Vfx8&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1945623887304456534-8379097799775894603?l=andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/feeds/8379097799775894603/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1945623887304456534&amp;postID=8379097799775894603' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/8379097799775894603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/8379097799775894603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/2010/02/whats-that-you-say.html' title='what&apos;s that you say?'/><author><name>Kacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514941853218782781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sme6m905d7I/AAAAAAAAANk/WChtHmENOFE/S220/P6054397.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1945623887304456534.post-1077982991912730972</id><published>2010-02-26T06:11:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-20T17:04:16.728-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sam'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hugs'/><title type='text'>"hubs"</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Sam and I took a trip to the grocery store yesterday.  Our first stop, of course, was to the bakery for his complimentary chocolate chip cookie.  He was a pretty content shopping partner until the cookie ran out on aisle two.  At that point he started begging for everything we passed.  This is how the conversation went.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Sam: "mama, what is that?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Me: "those are noodles, Sam."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Sam:  "i want doodles mom."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;And so it went.  I identified an item for him and he told me he wanted said item.  About half way through the store I was getting frazzled and forgetting what I was doing, going back to aisles where I had forgotten the main things I had come to the store for.  My patience may or may not have been running a little thin and if you had been there you may or may not have been able to detect that in my voice when answering Sam's continued questions.  At some point he started saying "i want hub mamma."  He had to say it a few times.  I was trying to piece together what a "hub" might be by thinking about what items I had identified for him in the past 30 seconds.  And then I stopped, looked at him and he held his arms out "i want a hub mamma".  Oh, a hug.  Sweet baby.  So we stood in the cereal isle hugging and then he said, no kidding "mmmm...this is nice."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;These moments are what makes it possible to withstand the other "terrible two" moments.  I love this kid!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 272px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/S4fYyBZWi4I/AAAAAAAAAPw/UqtJu5jdEOs/s320/Photo+on+2010-02-26+at+09.08+%232.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442557028580363138" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;So yes, I shamelessly tried to recreate this hug so I could take a picture.  I get lots of hugs so it's not a total fake, just staged  because a picture of Sam just makes this entry better.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1945623887304456534-1077982991912730972?l=andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/feeds/1077982991912730972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1945623887304456534&amp;postID=1077982991912730972' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/1077982991912730972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/1077982991912730972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/2010/02/hubs.html' title='&quot;hubs&quot;'/><author><name>Kacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514941853218782781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sme6m905d7I/AAAAAAAAANk/WChtHmENOFE/S220/P6054397.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/S4fYyBZWi4I/AAAAAAAAAPw/UqtJu5jdEOs/s72-c/Photo+on+2010-02-26+at+09.08+%232.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1945623887304456534.post-5137714075595076140</id><published>2010-02-07T17:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-20T17:04:31.173-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rocky Balboa</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;So I just have to post this really quick.  Sam has been BEGGING to go to Nana &amp;amp; Papa's house.  Every time we get in the car it's "are we going to Nana &amp;amp; Papa's and then a mini tantrum when I tell him no.  So yesterday I was just curious why he wanted to go so badly so I asked "Sam, what are you going to do at Nana &amp;amp; Papa's house?"  This was followed by a pause, a hmmmm, a pause and then "hit people".  Yep that's right, hit people.  I asked just be to sure and he confirmed that he indeed was pining for Nana &amp;amp; Papa's house so he could hit people.  I hope this is just a sweet little harmless two year old thing to say rather than the other option which is that he remembers that there are always people smaller than him at Nana &amp;amp; Papa's house and therefore he has people he feels safe to hit.  So scary.  Just look how ferocious he is.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/S29nA-zCq0I/AAAAAAAAAPo/P2w0dlwV1ic/s320/IMG_3155.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435676541814221634" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1945623887304456534-5137714075595076140?l=andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/feeds/5137714075595076140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1945623887304456534&amp;postID=5137714075595076140' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/5137714075595076140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/5137714075595076140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/2010/02/rocky-balboa.html' title='Rocky Balboa'/><author><name>Kacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514941853218782781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sme6m905d7I/AAAAAAAAANk/WChtHmENOFE/S220/P6054397.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/S29nA-zCq0I/AAAAAAAAAPo/P2w0dlwV1ic/s72-c/IMG_3155.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1945623887304456534.post-23408307468170045</id><published>2009-12-10T07:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-10T08:00:49.581-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nathan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jack'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lizard'/><title type='text'>New Addition</title><content type='html'>We have a new addition to our family. An addition I was very reluctant to make.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nathan started asking for a lizard a few months ago. I hoped this fascination would pass. We finally told him that if he still wanted one on his birthday then we would get him one. Well, guess what? He still very much wanted one when his birthday rolled around. Dave did a lot of research and determined that a bearded dragon would be our best bet. When the day arrived we all loaded up and headed to the stinkiest yuckiest place in town to purchase this ugly little creature. Nathan was so excited. He took his time picking out just the right one. (they all looked the same to me...ugly and....&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;lizardie&lt;/span&gt;) Once he was chosen, they packed him up in a little box, we bought a hundred crickets and took him home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 255px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 206px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413629052045651282" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SyES8LDqbVI/AAAAAAAAAPY/iHRQhbOQV9E/s400/Nathan%27s+7th+birthday+002.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Naming the little critter....&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Nathan had his heart set on naming him "John the Lizard". The whole thing. Not just John. John the Lizard. When I asked him if I could just call him John he explained "no mom, because his name is John the Lizard, like John the Baptist". Oh, well of course we should turn to the scriptures for the naming of our pets. Thankfully after a few days of the confusion and his annoyance at me that I would not call him by his full and proper name, we settled on Jack. I feel this rolls off the tongue much easier, don't you?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Now that the naming was over the little monstrosity took over our lives. I kid you not. Like a little newborn baby. When choosing this thing Dave assured me that he would be very easy to care for. Not so. First of all, he is apparently very sensitive to the temperature in his "habitat". We bought a heat lamp to put over his cage, but this is not enough. He prefers a warm room. The girl at the store where we bought him told us that she keeps her reptile room at 75 degrees. Well of course you do. We, on the other hand, like things a little cooler. The room he resides in happens to be the coldest room in our house. So I found myself worrying about this ugly little creature I didn't want and finally put a space heater in "his room". There's another funny thing. He now has his own room which used to be a guest room slash room to escape to when Dave's snoring is too much for me to take. Now I can't go in there because "Jack" &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;likes his&lt;/span&gt; room so stinking hot that I can't stand to sleep in there. The next issue that kept me up at night worrying was his eating. He's supposed to eat anywhere from 5 to 20 crickets a day as a baby and some greens. Well, when we first got him home we could not get him to eat any of the HUNDRED crickets we bought. I was going in there all day offering them to him and in my spare time reading on the Internet about what to do next. Turns out he was just "anxious" about his new environment and after a few days his appetite returned. What a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;prima&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;donna&lt;/span&gt;! Really?? The worst part is I've developed all these nurturing feelings for this thing I never wanted. I wouldn't say that I exactly like him. I still won't touch him. But I do spend a great deal of time fussing over and worrying about him. How did I get tricked into this? Also, I bet you didn't know that the crickets i.e.food have to be cared for as well. They have to be fed their own special food and sprinkled with some magic fairy dust that makes them more nutritious. Seriously, I think a baby elephant would be less trouble!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;For now he's here and I see no end in sight. Luckily Nathan has become really good at taking care of him now and really enjoys it. He loves to hold him and is very gentle with him. Sam is mostly stuck watching him from afar as he has not yet learned how to pet "softly". &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I think there are levels of care we could provide and I don't know how long we will keep up this whole first class routine. As a friend pointed out to me, his accommodations are equivalent to country club living and he might be just as content living in low income housing. I hope he doesn't get too accustomed to all the pampering.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;One last thing...this is what we have to look forward to &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 158px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 175px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413634998210291106" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SyEYWSPyZaI/AAAAAAAAAPg/SpjA0OUle_M/s400/800px-Bearded_Dragon_showing_beard.jpg" /&gt; (i just threw up in my mouth a little bit.  isn't that the uglies thing you've even seen?)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;p.s.  my sincere apologies to any of you reptile lovers out there.  i did not mean to offend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1945623887304456534-23408307468170045?l=andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/feeds/23408307468170045/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1945623887304456534&amp;postID=23408307468170045' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/23408307468170045'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/23408307468170045'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/2009/12/new-addition.html' title='New Addition'/><author><name>Kacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514941853218782781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sme6m905d7I/AAAAAAAAANk/WChtHmENOFE/S220/P6054397.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SyES8LDqbVI/AAAAAAAAAPY/iHRQhbOQV9E/s72-c/Nathan%27s+7th+birthday+002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1945623887304456534.post-1070713747067410448</id><published>2009-12-10T06:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-10T07:48:04.753-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nathan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthday'/><title type='text'>Hello Seven</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SyEQOZi4B-I/AAAAAAAAAPQ/EB2ZRTsPIiE/s1600-h/Nathan%27s+7th+birthday+010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5413626066637424610" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SyEQOZi4B-I/AAAAAAAAAPQ/EB2ZRTsPIiE/s400/Nathan%27s+7th+birthday+010.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Again I am in shock as another year rolls around and I am now the mother of a &lt;strong&gt;seven year old! &lt;/strong&gt;If things had worked out as we hoped in the beginning I would have a 13 or 14 year old by now, but seven seems old enough for me right now. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We celebrated Nathan's birthday several&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;times. On his actual birthday he got his present from us and we let him choose where we would go for dinner. He chose Moe's for the chicken quesadilla and I made a cake for him at home. We celebrated again a few days later with a party at a jump house. He invited some of his friends from school and church and they had a great time. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;He's growing up so fast. Only a year from now he'll be eight which is a big milestone. He's starting to spend more and more time by himself. He is most often found in his room creating lego vehicles and guys from his imagination. This time last year it was all about the video games and spongebob. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;His is enjoying school but his fascination with the new school year and attractive teacher have worn off and he's decided that first grade is a lot of work. He does well in school when he feels like it, but is guilty of trying to be the first one done and doing a pretty pitiful job sometimes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;He is getting better at church. He's finally learned to sit still and might even be caught enjoying music time. I don't sit and wonder when they are going to come get me to "deal" with Nathan at church anymore. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;He's still working on his relationship with his little brother. I'm still hoping it gets better. He picks on him sometimes and like to hear him scream. On the other hand, he really enjoys making something for Sam to play with or loaning him some of his "special" guys. He really hates when Sam does not show adequate appreciation for this gesture. He becomes Sam's biggest supporter when I have to correct him. He often defends Sam and wants to be there to comfort him when the scolding is over.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I still look at him every day and think of how he came to be ours and I am so thankful to have him in my home. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1945623887304456534-1070713747067410448?l=andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/feeds/1070713747067410448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1945623887304456534&amp;postID=1070713747067410448' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/1070713747067410448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/1070713747067410448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/2009/12/hello-seven.html' title='Hello Seven'/><author><name>Kacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514941853218782781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sme6m905d7I/AAAAAAAAANk/WChtHmENOFE/S220/P6054397.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SyEQOZi4B-I/AAAAAAAAAPQ/EB2ZRTsPIiE/s72-c/Nathan%27s+7th+birthday+010.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1945623887304456534.post-6143761602777622820</id><published>2009-11-16T16:00:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-17T13:08:41.892-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sam'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funny'/><title type='text'>sam the shopper... he is not</title><content type='html'>As the mom of two boys who will one day marry women who will in no doubt love to shop, I find it my personal duty to teach them the joys of shopping. I think I did a pretty good job with Nathan. At a young age he seemed to enjoy looking at things as I pointed out the fine details and differences in things I was trying to decide about. I would talk to him as an equal, asking his opinion etc. So naturally, being so proud of myself I have continued this goal with Sam. It's true what they say...no two children are alike. Sam HATES shopping. Doesn't like anything about it. I can't find anything interesting enough to capture his interest. He can't be bribed or begged into cooperating with me. He pretty much complains the entire time. But being the ever determined soul that I am, I forge ahead with my goal of making a good shopping companion for his one day bride. It's a tough job, but won't she be so happy?&lt;br /&gt;On one such shopping trip I had been promising that we would look at just "one more thing" for the past five things. He had a toy in his hand that he could not open until we paid for it. This he understands and was very frustrated. He said to everyone we passed "open &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;pwease&lt;/span&gt;". He was so put out that no one would help him. When we neared the front of the store he was elated. He was kicking his little feet and smiling that sweet smile from ear to ear. Then, as a test, purely because I feel it is my duty, I stopped to look at "one more thing". He could take it no longer. He balled up his little fists, banged them on the cart and yelled almost at the top of his lungs "OH MY DOSH!" I tried my best not to laugh at him. He was SO over it. I blame the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;geniuses&lt;/span&gt; who put the stuff right up at the front of the store. They know me too well. But alas we did check out. Ironically, after all that shopping all we got was the stupid toy. So I'll say it now...sorry to Sam's future wife. He will most likely not enjoy helping you pick out a lovely outfit or furniture for your first home. I tried.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1945623887304456534-6143761602777622820?l=andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/feeds/6143761602777622820/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1945623887304456534&amp;postID=6143761602777622820' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/6143761602777622820'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/6143761602777622820'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/2009/11/sam-shopper-he-is-not.html' title='sam the shopper... he is not'/><author><name>Kacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514941853218782781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sme6m905d7I/AAAAAAAAANk/WChtHmENOFE/S220/P6054397.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1945623887304456534.post-1828856649181521572</id><published>2009-11-16T15:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-16T15:59:25.993-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nathan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='honesty'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funny'/><title type='text'>honesty at a price</title><content type='html'>We have always been so proud of Nathan for being honest. He has almost always been painfully honest no matter the cost. As he's gotten older I have noticed that there are occasions where this is becoming a little more difficult and I see him struggle a little longer with his decision in whether or not to be truthful. Of course, as his mom I would ONLY ever encourage him to be honest....unless of course it &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;embarrasses&lt;/span&gt; me. Case in point...&lt;br /&gt;We have a new primary president. She is a very sweet, young mom with lots of enthusiasm and great ideas. A few Sundays ago she was letting the children know there were going to new rules concerning their reverence. She tried the "reverence means love" tactic. And that to show their love they should want to be reverent. I just happened to walk into the room as she was saying "well, you might not love me, but you do love your Heavenly Father don't you?" For just a tiny second I wondered what child had told this sweet lady that he did NOT love HER. It did not take me long to come to my senses though and realize that of course it had to be Nathan. Who else would do that? In talking to another adult that had been present for the full exchange, she told me that he was very serious and matter of fact in his statement and that he had not meant to be mean or funny. I know this to be true, but still. Does he always have to be honest out loud? He did go on to say that he did love his Heavenly Father very much and for that reason he would try to be more reverent. As we discussed this episode with him he said to me "well sorry mom, but I barely know that lady". True . But necessary to say? I think not.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1945623887304456534-1828856649181521572?l=andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/feeds/1828856649181521572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1945623887304456534&amp;postID=1828856649181521572' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/1828856649181521572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/1828856649181521572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/2009/11/honesty-at-price.html' title='honesty at a price'/><author><name>Kacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514941853218782781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sme6m905d7I/AAAAAAAAANk/WChtHmENOFE/S220/P6054397.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1945623887304456534.post-6744509268319374090</id><published>2009-09-17T10:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-17T10:32:34.395-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sam'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthday'/><title type='text'>Baby Turns Two</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 284px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 228px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382486745416471170" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SrJvLWTMEoI/AAAAAAAAAPA/3sdeUAINYrc/s400/Sam%27s+2nd+Birthday+003.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe our baby is two. It shouldn't feel so strange as he's always tried to be bigger than he is. Keeping up with a big brother makes for a short life as a baby. This makes me sad. I try to explain to him how he's my last and it must LAST. All of it. The baby babble, the silly cartoons, the unique language all his own, the chubby wrists and elbows. Ohhh, the dimples where elbows and knuckles are supposed to be. I don't know how much longer we have to enjoy these things. It's going by so fast. Oh and the fat, square pudgy feet. What will I do when they have disappeared forever from my life? sigh.... He doesn't listen. He just insists on getting bigger, saying big words, trying to potty train himself. How dare he do this to me??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No matter how sad of an occasion for me, we did celebrate the little guy turning 2. Sam mostly loves what Nathan loves.....legos, "guys", spongebob....yuck, but he also loves puppies. All on his own. Puppies are Sam's love that he came up with independent of his big brother's influence. So we had a puppy party. It was just us, very anti-climatic, but we got lots of pictures and I think he liked his huge cookie cake with the big paw print.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 208px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 264px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382487255627241986" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SrJvpC-6mgI/AAAAAAAAAPI/UgOE5jYlvx0/s400/Sam%27s+2nd+Birthday+054.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Birthday my little Sam. May you stay little just a little longer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1945623887304456534-6744509268319374090?l=andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/feeds/6744509268319374090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1945623887304456534&amp;postID=6744509268319374090' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/6744509268319374090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/6744509268319374090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/2009/09/baby-turns-two.html' title='Baby Turns Two'/><author><name>Kacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514941853218782781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sme6m905d7I/AAAAAAAAANk/WChtHmENOFE/S220/P6054397.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SrJvLWTMEoI/AAAAAAAAAPA/3sdeUAINYrc/s72-c/Sam%27s+2nd+Birthday+003.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1945623887304456534.post-4872539090609283088</id><published>2009-08-25T12:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-17T10:32:59.183-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nathan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><title type='text'>Firsts</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SpQ8Hqj5mzI/AAAAAAAAAO4/F-FTVHoTr80/s1600-h/Nathan+1st+grade.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373986357741460274" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SpQ8Hqj5mzI/AAAAAAAAAO4/F-FTVHoTr80/s400/Nathan+1st+grade.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We've had a week of firsts. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;-Nathan's first day in the 1st grade.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;-first time I didn't take 100 pictures to commemorate such a big event&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;-first time I let Nathan choose his own shirt for school&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;-first time I only spent one day during the 1st week crying my eyes out after dropping him off&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nathan is loving the 1st grade so far. He is doing very well also with listening and following directions. Only a week in, but SUCH an improvement over last year! I think by this time last year he was already on a first name basis with the principal. I am really happy and couldn't be more proud. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1945623887304456534-4872539090609283088?l=andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/feeds/4872539090609283088/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1945623887304456534&amp;postID=4872539090609283088' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/4872539090609283088'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/4872539090609283088'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/2009/08/firsts.html' title='Firsts'/><author><name>Kacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514941853218782781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sme6m905d7I/AAAAAAAAANk/WChtHmENOFE/S220/P6054397.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SpQ8Hqj5mzI/AAAAAAAAAO4/F-FTVHoTr80/s72-c/Nathan+1st+grade.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1945623887304456534.post-1919939629754271200</id><published>2009-08-05T07:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-05T11:32:47.649-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sam'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nathan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='brothers'/><title type='text'>passing it on</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SnmbfYeuMNI/AAAAAAAAAOU/wXAwwlAEBqA/s1600-h/Brothers+051.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 300px; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366491394438213842" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SnmbfYeuMNI/AAAAAAAAAOU/wXAwwlAEBqA/s400/Brothers+051.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;so a few weeks ago, we were in nathan's favorite store toys r us. they had some of the "old" games on sale, one of them being battleship. i picked it up thinking it might be a little challenging, but fun and nostalgic for dave and i. so yesterday nathan and i played it for the first time. he actually picked up on it pretty easily. he then challenged his dad to a game when he got home from work. he did even better this time.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;this morning this was the scene at the breakfast table.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;battleship game - great deal&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;time spent teaching nathan to play - honestly...tested my patience&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;witnessing this moment between these two - priceless&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;sidenote - i think this is the second time i have ripped off this ad campaign. i don't even remember what company it is for. memorable, but not in the way they intended.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1945623887304456534-1919939629754271200?l=andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/feeds/1919939629754271200/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1945623887304456534&amp;postID=1919939629754271200' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/1919939629754271200'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/1919939629754271200'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/2009/08/passing-it-on.html' title='passing it on'/><author><name>Kacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514941853218782781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sme6m905d7I/AAAAAAAAANk/WChtHmENOFE/S220/P6054397.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SnmbfYeuMNI/AAAAAAAAAOU/wXAwwlAEBqA/s72-c/Brothers+051.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1945623887304456534.post-6199828732618337109</id><published>2009-08-05T07:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-05T07:54:05.250-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nathan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funny'/><title type='text'>the essentials</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;i have been asked to help out in primary indefinitely, as a parent volunteer. mostly because my own child has a problem sitting still and listening. on one such sunday they were having a very good sharing time on pioneers. nathan was sitting beside me in his own little world, not listening to a word being said. the sweet sister in front of this rambunctious group of children was talking about the handcarts and how you could only take what would fit in your handcart. i saw an opportunity to get nathan involved, so i leaned over and asked him what he would take if he could ONLY take what would fit in his handcart. his first answer was a a very rational "shirts". "well yes, nathan you would probably need more shirts. what else?" so he pauses for a minute. i'm assuming because he really wants to say his DS and IPOD, but he's pretty sure those wouldn't be considered essentials in a time like this, so he instead says "oh, definitely a comb and that stuff you spray my hair with to get it to lay down." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;good answer nathan. very practical.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SnmZ6kQ9h9I/AAAAAAAAAOM/ebbxpsPG5p8/s1600-h/Nathan+002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 234px; HEIGHT: 204px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366489662434936786" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SnmZ6kQ9h9I/AAAAAAAAAOM/ebbxpsPG5p8/s400/Nathan+002.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SnmXSvnxu5I/AAAAAAAAAOE/cOAtszj53e0/s1600-h/miscellaneous.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 150px; HEIGHT: 218px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5366486779265399698" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SnmXSvnxu5I/AAAAAAAAAOE/cOAtszj53e0/s400/miscellaneous.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SnmXSvnxu5I/AAAAAAAAAOE/cOAtszj53e0/s1600-h/miscellaneous.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SnmXSvnxu5I/AAAAAAAAAOE/cOAtszj53e0/s1600-h/miscellaneous.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1945623887304456534-6199828732618337109?l=andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/feeds/6199828732618337109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1945623887304456534&amp;postID=6199828732618337109' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/6199828732618337109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/6199828732618337109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/2009/08/essentials.html' title='the essentials'/><author><name>Kacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514941853218782781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sme6m905d7I/AAAAAAAAANk/WChtHmENOFE/S220/P6054397.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SnmZ6kQ9h9I/AAAAAAAAAOM/ebbxpsPG5p8/s72-c/Nathan+002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1945623887304456534.post-5727063115172626525</id><published>2009-07-11T14:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-11T14:42:22.805-07:00</updated><title type='text'>addendum</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I can't believe I forgot to mention the best word Sam says. It's bubbles. I love to hear him say it and he knows it too. He doesn't say it often and almost never when I ask. He usually reserves it for when he's in trouble. He'll come up to me and say really softly "bubbles mama". How do they learn these tricks so early? Because looking at those juicy lips &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;enunciating&lt;/span&gt; all those B's, who can resist? Usually not me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1945623887304456534-5727063115172626525?l=andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/feeds/5727063115172626525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1945623887304456534&amp;postID=5727063115172626525' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/5727063115172626525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/5727063115172626525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/2009/07/addendum.html' title='addendum'/><author><name>Kacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514941853218782781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sme6m905d7I/AAAAAAAAANk/WChtHmENOFE/S220/P6054397.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1945623887304456534.post-7381860853736990009</id><published>2009-07-11T11:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-11T14:37:55.860-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sam'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Talking'/><title type='text'>he speaks</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;And by HE, I mean Sam and by speaks, I mean A LOT. Most words are unintelligible. But there are quite a few that he's been saying for a while now that we all understand very well. His most frequently used vocabulary:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mama (oh how that sweet utterance used repeatedly can start to sound like nails on a chalkboard)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;daddee&lt;br /&gt;sunglasses (i know, a weird first word, but the kid likes his shades)&lt;br /&gt;please&lt;br /&gt;thank you&lt;br /&gt;thanks&lt;br /&gt;out&lt;br /&gt;go&lt;br /&gt;shoes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's more, but my brain is fried at the moment. I'll just post this little gem. Most of what he says here aren't real words. We often tell him to speak English, and sometimes he does. Sometimes, however, he speaks "Sam" and we just smile and nod our heads. It's cute either way and he loves to hear himself talk. And I love to WATCH him talk. Check out that lip action.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-6a7467dec15eabf3" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v19.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D6a7467dec15eabf3%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331346406%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D60F9C961D94AB182814E4D8AE8DF2C662C4765A3.710EA5E772242E789D5F3368B37A9F4277DB3061%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D6a7467dec15eabf3%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DqAj9akfwZNQZsFB5chUHsWexf1I&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v19.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D6a7467dec15eabf3%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331346406%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D60F9C961D94AB182814E4D8AE8DF2C662C4765A3.710EA5E772242E789D5F3368B37A9F4277DB3061%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D6a7467dec15eabf3%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DqAj9akfwZNQZsFB5chUHsWexf1I&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1945623887304456534-7381860853736990009?l=andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=6a7467dec15eabf3&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/feeds/7381860853736990009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1945623887304456534&amp;postID=7381860853736990009' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/7381860853736990009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/7381860853736990009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/2009/07/he-speaks.html' title='he speaks'/><author><name>Kacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514941853218782781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sme6m905d7I/AAAAAAAAANk/WChtHmENOFE/S220/P6054397.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1945623887304456534.post-1054516478071056248</id><published>2009-07-11T10:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-11T14:46:22.353-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nathan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tooth'/><title type='text'>finally in need of the tooth fairy</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;At 6 1/2 Nathan finally lost his first tooth. We had been anticipating it for weeks. He was so excited when it fell out. It's hard to say if he was more excited by the soon to come visit from the tooth fairy, or that it didn't hurt. We asked him how much he thought the tooth fairy should bring and he said $100.00. I'm fully aware of inflation, but I tried to explain that $100.00 might be expecting a little too much. So he got $5 and was thrilled. The next day at church he smiled at everyone he passed, gave them about 5 seconds to notice on their own and then totally put out that they hadn't noticed, told them he had lost a tooth. This was then followed by "and you know, there is no tooth fairy"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Oh, Nathan...of course there is a tooth fairy&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1945623887304456534-1054516478071056248?l=andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/feeds/1054516478071056248/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1945623887304456534&amp;postID=1054516478071056248' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/1054516478071056248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/1054516478071056248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/2009/07/finally-in-need-of-tooth-fairy.html' title='finally in need of the tooth fairy'/><author><name>Kacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514941853218782781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sme6m905d7I/AAAAAAAAANk/WChtHmENOFE/S220/P6054397.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1945623887304456534.post-8409332331594510647</id><published>2009-07-11T10:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-11T11:45:30.271-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sam'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bicycle'/><title type='text'>safety first</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;A&lt;/span&gt;fter the grueling experience that was the Irongirl, the kids and I spent a week at my mom and dad's house. It was just what I needed. So relaxing. My kids actually played outside for hours on end. My parents live out in the country with no neighbors for a mile so it is the perfect place for kids to run, ride bikes, play with bugs and do fun kid things in general.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the things the boys really enjoyed was riding bikes. Sam found a little plastic toy with wheels that he could ride. He couldn't reach the pedals so he made his way around and around the circle drive Fred Flinstone style. But Sam believes whole heartedly in safety. Safety above all else. He found this helmet and insisted on wearing it every time he took his bike out for a spin. Good thing too, because he took a few nasty spills, but his little noggin....fully protected.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SljdiZQIJ-I/AAAAAAAAAMg/gukWHCK76n4/s1600-h/Samuel+Bicycle+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 320px; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357275339721025506" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SljdiZQIJ-I/AAAAAAAAAMg/gukWHCK76n4/s320/Samuel+Bicycle+001.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SljRaZYBz-I/AAAAAAAAAMY/gFf18StCcZs/s1600-h/Samuel+Bicycle+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1945623887304456534-8409332331594510647?l=andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/feeds/8409332331594510647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1945623887304456534&amp;postID=8409332331594510647' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/8409332331594510647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/8409332331594510647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/2009/07/safety-first.html' title='safety first'/><author><name>Kacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514941853218782781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sme6m905d7I/AAAAAAAAANk/WChtHmENOFE/S220/P6054397.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SljdiZQIJ-I/AAAAAAAAAMg/gukWHCK76n4/s72-c/Samuel+Bicycle+001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1945623887304456534.post-7588202628357381531</id><published>2009-07-11T09:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-11T14:51:20.413-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Irongirl'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kacey'/><title type='text'>irongirl</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sljd_sf8KEI/AAAAAAAAAMo/1BctQIRu8DU/s1600-h/Iron+Girl+finish.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357275843103828034" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sljd_sf8KEI/AAAAAAAAAMo/1BctQIRu8DU/s400/Iron+Girl+finish.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;or something a little less tough, and a little more squishy than Iron. Maybe JelloGirl?&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SljJycj_gcI/AAAAAAAAAMI/YsGSNcEbSdg/s1600-h/Iron+Girl+finish.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Okay, I don't know if I will ever blog about myself again. I am not one to toot my own horn. But seeing as this is the only journal for myself and my family and I feel that I must write this experience down somewhere lest I forget, I guess it will have to be here. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;In the beginning...&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;My sister called me about a year ago and told me about an article she saw in a magazine about a race called the IronGirl. What this had to do me I didn't know, but I let her go on and on with all the details, swimming, biking running, all the while thinking: who would want to do that? So when she was done telling me about it she said.. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"so, wanna do it?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"who, us?" &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"yeah, girl, US."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; At this point my exercise revolved around working off all the sugar and fat consumed the day before. I had never worked toward a goal like this before. Amber, on the other hand, had already done numerous 5k races, a half marathon and a few bike rides. I had only done a few 5ks and had yet to have a good experience. My last one being beat by a bunch of 7 year olds! But something in me made me say yes, that I would try, that we should go for it. Over the next year I would question myself over and over about why I had agreed to do such a thing. Eventually I had to come up with some reasons, some inspiration or I knew I would never endure. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;One of the things that kept me going during my training was thinking about my brother Justin. In April of 2008 he was in a car accident. He suffered a brain injury and as a result has had to go through extensive therapy to relearn how to do the most basic things. It was heartbreaking to watch him concentrate so hard on just holding his spoon well enough to feed himself all the way up to eventually trying to stand and then walk on his now very weak legs. So many times as I was running on the treadmill (which I hate) I would think about him and how fortunate I was to have a body that could do what I had enough will to push it to do. I really had no physical limitations. Only ones that I put on myself. I realized what a blessing a healthy and whole body is and tried to draw on that when I felt like pushing that big, tempting red button on that darn DREADMILL! The one mental image I kept conjuring up was one of Justin standing with the aid of this huge contraption and the look of pain on his face as he tried to get his brain to tell his legs to move. I could run if he could do that and on more than one occasion I ran with tears streaming down my face. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Another thought that fueled my fire was the idea of dispelling the image of "Kacey the klutz". Growing up I was the uncoordinated, nonathletic, clumsy one. It's true. I once broke my arm just walking across the yard and falling down, but I wanted to prove to myself and my kids that you can do anything you put your mind to and that you don't have to be held back by the image others have of you. Being a mom makes you question all kinds of things like how and why you turned out the way you did and what kind of person you are raising as a parent. What are my kids learning about who they can be from me? I wanted them to learn that they can be whatever they set their mind to as long as they are willing to work hard for it.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;So, I trained. I had to learn how to do more than doggie paddle in the water, ride outside on a real bike instead of a stationary one without falling (which I did more than once) and learn how to push myself longer and harder than I was used to. In the end I came to hate each of these activities, but when the day rolled around, I was as ready as I could be.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The day of the race my parents, Dave and my children were there to cheer us on. They will never know how much it meant to me to have them there. I was nervous, but excited to do it. Amber was there alongside me trying to calm me and help me think positively, but until I crossed the finish line I wasn't ever sure I could finish. I wasn't excited about how long it took us to finish, I had hoped for a better time, but what was more important was that I did it. I did everything I set out to do. I finished, I didn't pass out, I didn't fall off my bike, I didn't drown (without the use of arm floaties, thank you very much)  and I crossed the finish line with my sister right beside me. It was so worth it to do it with her. I surprised myself and Amber by bursting into tears as I crossed the finish line. I was just overcome with emotion, not even sure which ones, but very strong emotions. It is an experience I won't soon forget. I learned a lot of things I can do better next time. (yes, there will be a next time) But mostly I learned a lot about myself that I don't think I could have learned any other way.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1945623887304456534-7588202628357381531?l=andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/feeds/7588202628357381531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1945623887304456534&amp;postID=7588202628357381531' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/7588202628357381531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/7588202628357381531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/2009/07/irongirl.html' title='irongirl'/><author><name>Kacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514941853218782781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sme6m905d7I/AAAAAAAAANk/WChtHmENOFE/S220/P6054397.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sljd_sf8KEI/AAAAAAAAAMo/1BctQIRu8DU/s72-c/Iron+Girl+finish.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1945623887304456534.post-7501512307395825481</id><published>2009-07-11T09:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-11T14:57:37.790-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sam'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='blanket'/><title type='text'>bee bees</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Sam has a best friend. He's blue, soft, most of the time dirty and goes everywhere with him. It's his bee bees, be bis, be bez, there's no real correct spelling but this is how he lovingly refers to his blanket. He wants it with him at the table, in the car, in bed of course and gernerally just drags it around the house with him. I have trouble getting it away from him because it always has to be within a few feet of him at all times. It just so happens that as I type this it is being washed and he has asked me atleast a dozen times where his bee bees is. Hopefully we'll get rid of it before he starts preschool in a few years, but for now I like his bee bees too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SljeaAMH32I/AAAAAAAAAMw/FNwjorp7BLo/s1600-h/Sam+and+blanket+005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 300px; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357276295066017634" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SljeaAMH32I/AAAAAAAAAMw/FNwjorp7BLo/s400/Sam+and+blanket+005.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sli8B-fN_EI/AAAAAAAAAMA/4s04g4ET-sE/s1600-h/Sam+and+blanket+005.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1945623887304456534-7501512307395825481?l=andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/feeds/7501512307395825481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1945623887304456534&amp;postID=7501512307395825481' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/7501512307395825481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/7501512307395825481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/2009/07/bee-bees.html' title='bee bees'/><author><name>Kacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514941853218782781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sme6m905d7I/AAAAAAAAANk/WChtHmENOFE/S220/P6054397.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SljeaAMH32I/AAAAAAAAAMw/FNwjorp7BLo/s72-c/Sam+and+blanket+005.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1945623887304456534.post-8304904914455761912</id><published>2009-07-11T07:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-11T14:57:21.968-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Vegas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vacation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Utah'/><title type='text'>What Happens In Vegas (and Utah)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Our family's trip this summer was out west to Utah and Vegas. The main event being Dave's nephew Tommy's baptism. We decided to add in some family time in Vegas before and after Utah. We started our trip with a few nights in Vegas at Circus Circus. Both Dave and I stayed there as children/young adults and had fond memories, but my how things can change in 20 or so years. (imagine that!) Let's just say I wasn't feeling so nostalgic after about 5 minutes in our small room with 7 foot ceilings, sheets that felt like sandpaper and carpet that I wouldn't walk on in my bare feet. Ask Nathan though and he will tell you that this is the best place we stayed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 367px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 271px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357230214945871666" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sli0fyXWlzI/AAAAAAAAALo/CXcfIiLr0gQ/s320/Utah+Vegas+Vacation+015.jpg" /&gt; On our trip home we upgraded our &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;accommodations&lt;/span&gt; to the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Bellagio&lt;/span&gt; and Mandalay Bay, but these places didn't have a cheesy indoor amusement park and a tasteless breakfast buffet with all the bacon Nathan could eat. Nice soft down blankets, clean soft sheets, beautiful views and tasteful decor don't hold a candle to bacon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Slimslw9KLI/AAAAAAAAAK4/BZN8fZYguUs/s1600-h/Utah+Vegas+Vacation+119.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 430px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 272px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357215041739106482" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Slimslw9KLI/AAAAAAAAAK4/BZN8fZYguUs/s320/Utah+Vegas+Vacation+119.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SlinTl3TB6I/AAAAAAAAALA/6ic0JpbmS1Q/s1600-h/Utah+Vegas+Vacation+121.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 404px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 299px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357215711780603810" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SlinTl3TB6I/AAAAAAAAALA/6ic0JpbmS1Q/s320/Utah+Vegas+Vacation+121.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Slimslw9KLI/AAAAAAAAAK4/BZN8fZYguUs/s1600-h/Utah+Vegas+Vacation+119.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Slimslw9KLI/AAAAAAAAAK4/BZN8fZYguUs/s1600-h/Utah+Vegas+Vacation+119.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Slimslw9KLI/AAAAAAAAAK4/BZN8fZYguUs/s1600-h/Utah+Vegas+Vacation+119.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SlinTl3TB6I/AAAAAAAAALA/6ic0JpbmS1Q/s1600-h/Utah+Vegas+Vacation+121.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SlinTl3TB6I/AAAAAAAAALA/6ic0JpbmS1Q/s1600-h/Utah+Vegas+Vacation+121.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SlinTl3TB6I/AAAAAAAAALA/6ic0JpbmS1Q/s1600-h/Utah+Vegas+Vacation+121.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="right"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SlinTl3TB6I/AAAAAAAAALA/6ic0JpbmS1Q/s1600-h/Utah+Vegas+Vacation+121.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We then headed to Utah with our first stop in Bountiful to visit the Clemons family. They are great friends of ours who moved away last year and it was so nice to see them. We had a great time just hanging out, relaxing, catching up and of course, enjoying a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;wonderful&lt;/span&gt; meal Autumn made for us. Nathan and Grady have both matured over the past year and as a result they played really well together. Charlotte and Olivia followed Sam around and I was able to relax knowing that they were looking out for him. Later that week Nathan and I were also able to go to &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Thanksgiving&lt;/span&gt; Point with Autumn and Grady and had a great day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sliowh09CoI/AAAAAAAAALI/o4ErYNKKd0E/s1600-h/Utah+Vegas+Vacation+061.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 367px; HEIGHT: 245px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357217308424866434" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sliowh09CoI/AAAAAAAAALI/o4ErYNKKd0E/s320/Utah+Vegas+Vacation+061.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We had a great time with Dave's family. Family dinners, a trip to a museum at &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;BYU&lt;/span&gt;, milkshakes in &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Heber&lt;/span&gt; at Dairy Keen (&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;yummm&lt;/span&gt;), family pictures (which is always an adventure) and plenty of time spent just hanging out and catching up. It's so nice to see our boys playing with their Utah cousins and getting to know them better. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sli2lTVWlRI/AAAAAAAAAL4/ZzEWpihBWxQ/s1600-h/Utah+Vegas+Vacation+073.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 421px; HEIGHT: 271px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357232508718454034" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sli2lTVWlRI/AAAAAAAAAL4/ZzEWpihBWxQ/s320/Utah+Vegas+Vacation+073.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I really enjoy Nathan and Ashlee's "special" &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;relationship&lt;/span&gt;. At almost 14 she is his favorite Jackson cousin. She is so patient and kind to him. Nathan could most often be found in her room with her friends. I told them that they did not have to let him hang out with them and they assured me that they liked having him around because he says funny things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SlizpVk9I7I/AAAAAAAAALY/g4gO8o8Pk-Y/s1600-h/Utah+Vegas+Vacation+096.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 401px; HEIGHT: 299px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357229279505359794" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SlizpVk9I7I/AAAAAAAAALY/g4gO8o8Pk-Y/s320/Utah+Vegas+Vacation+096.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We finished up our trip back in Vegas with a few days left to go and really ready to be home. Dave and I enjoyed our new &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;accommodations&lt;/span&gt;, Nathan wanted to know "where's the bacon?", Sam tried to set a record for most hours without taking a nap AND we went to Hoover Dam.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sli1Os5af1I/AAAAAAAAALw/-x1NXuhGk2A/s1600-h/Utah+Vegas+Vacation+113.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 393px; HEIGHT: 299px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357231020931972946" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sli1Os5af1I/AAAAAAAAALw/-x1NXuhGk2A/s320/Utah+Vegas+Vacation+113.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sliowh09CoI/AAAAAAAAALI/o4ErYNKKd0E/s1600-h/Utah+Vegas+Vacation+061.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1945623887304456534-8304904914455761912?l=andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/feeds/8304904914455761912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1945623887304456534&amp;postID=8304904914455761912' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/8304904914455761912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/8304904914455761912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/2009/07/what-happens-in-vegas-and-utah_11.html' title='What Happens In Vegas (and Utah)'/><author><name>Kacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514941853218782781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sme6m905d7I/AAAAAAAAANk/WChtHmENOFE/S220/P6054397.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sli0fyXWlzI/AAAAAAAAALo/CXcfIiLr0gQ/s72-c/Utah+Vegas+Vacation+015.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1945623887304456534.post-8822336509974155374</id><published>2009-07-10T18:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-11T12:28:08.615-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nathan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><title type='text'>Bye Bye Kindergarten</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;With all of the worry and woes of &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;kindergarten&lt;/span&gt;, we did make it through. Nathan really enjoyed this year and for a few weeks after school was out he repeatedly asked when he could go back. I enjoyed being able to go to the school twice a month to help out and I think that may be the only way I survived.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nathan continued to stick close to the girls. At one point he came home and told me that Madison was no longer his best friend, but Emma was. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;hmmm&lt;/span&gt;... We LOVED his teacher. It made it so much easier for me to send him to school each day knowing that she was there to look out for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking over his pictures from the year, here are the ones I thought best summed up his &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;kindergarten&lt;/span&gt; experience. The women in his life... &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Madison...his on again, off again best friend and partner in crime. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sljl42ViRVI/AAAAAAAAANI/EX5nR4eBYzI/s1600-h/Kindergarten+Carnival+010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357284521578480978" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sljl42ViRVI/AAAAAAAAANI/EX5nR4eBYzI/s400/Kindergarten+Carnival+010.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Mrs. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Settlemyer&lt;/span&gt; - MY security blanket for the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;kindergarten&lt;/span&gt; year. After meeting her and hearing her talk about Nathan I could finally relax while he was at school. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sljm7UpKYMI/AAAAAAAAANQ/OrLL-LoRVaM/s1600-h/Kindergarten+Carnival+038.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 300px; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357285663585231042" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sljm7UpKYMI/AAAAAAAAANQ/OrLL-LoRVaM/s400/Kindergarten+Carnival+038.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;And me, just mom. I don't think he missed me nearly as much as I missed him, but he did seem happy to see me when I came to the school to visit.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Slfo3FYUfPI/AAAAAAAAAJg/x1HdKWIRDdE/s1600-h/Helping+in+Nathan%27s+Class+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SljnXdIlOQI/AAAAAAAAANY/9w4NdXGGTiY/s1600-h/Helping+in+Nathan%27s+Class+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357286146900834562" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SljnXdIlOQI/AAAAAAAAANY/9w4NdXGGTiY/s400/Helping+in+Nathan%27s+Class+004.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;One year down...I don't even want to think about how many more to go. Just the other day I almost upchucked thinking about the 1st grade. School is just a part of life, right? I survived and he will too. I just don't know if I will survive his school years as well as I survived my own and I just barely survived that! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1945623887304456534-8822336509974155374?l=andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/feeds/8822336509974155374/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1945623887304456534&amp;postID=8822336509974155374' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/8822336509974155374'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/8822336509974155374'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/2009/07/bye-bye-kindergarten.html' title='Bye Bye Kindergarten'/><author><name>Kacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514941853218782781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sme6m905d7I/AAAAAAAAANk/WChtHmENOFE/S220/P6054397.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sljl42ViRVI/AAAAAAAAANI/EX5nR4eBYzI/s72-c/Kindergarten+Carnival+010.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1945623887304456534.post-1557987972578233214</id><published>2009-07-10T17:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-11T11:59:23.995-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='swim team'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nathan'/><title type='text'>Swims Like A Fish?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SljgZI0MvWI/AAAAAAAAAM4/BaH_lqJS-bk/s1600-h/Swim+Team+002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 300px; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357278479224978786" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SljgZI0MvWI/AAAAAAAAAM4/BaH_lqJS-bk/s400/Swim+Team+002.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;....if you know a fish that doesn't swim super fast and doesn't care how long it takes them to get to where they are going! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We decided to let Nathan try the swim team this summer. It's a pretty big commitment with practice 5 days a week and a meet once a week that lasts for 4-5 hours! We've tried soccer, karate (briefly), gymnastics and decided to add swimming to the list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nathan approached this new adventure the same way he approaches everything, like he couldn't care less! He could be found during practice hiding on the steps so he wouldn't have to swim his laps or splashing his teammates instead of swimming. I think he may be better suited for synchronized swimming because at the meets when it was his turn to race, he liked to get in the water and swim to the bottom, swim in circles, roll over and over...all with seemingly no real hurry to get to the other end of the pool. He always felt good about how he did even if he was the last one out of the water. Healthy amount of confidence or a total lack of competitive spirit? Not too sure. I think his coach summed it up when he approached me at practice and said "Nathan has a real good stroke and could be a good little swimmer h&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;e just seems to get distracted when he gets in the pool." Oh, if only he knew. Seemed funny to me that he sized him up so well after only spending a few hours with him&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SljgvC9sktI/AAAAAAAAANA/7N1QV6eTYiE/s1600-h/Swim+Team+016.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357278855611323090" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SljgvC9sktI/AAAAAAAAANA/7N1QV6eTYiE/s400/Swim+Team+016.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The backstroke and Nathan are not friends. He swims most of the backstroke &lt;strong&gt;NOT&lt;/strong&gt; on his back. Nuf said. But at the last swim meet I gave him a big pep talk about giving it his best just this one last time. He whined and complained, I begged and pleaded and then told him I would say a little prayer for him that he could swim the whole length of the pool on his back. After getting him situated in the lineup I made my way back over to our side of the pool and totally forgot about the deal we made, but he didn't. We almost didn't realize it was him in the pool because this child was swimming on his back, not flipping over, not stopping and coming across the pool pretty quickly. Before he could even get out of the water he was saying "mom, your prayer really worked, I was fast, I didn't flip over and I think the&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Slfg17T4QsI/AAAAAAAAAJA/SXlrXJkZ6dg/s1600-h/Swim+Team+010.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; backstroke is my favorite now." I felt so quilty. I guess a prayer in my heart and his faith were enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overall we enjoyed our experience. May even try again next year. Just too hard to say now if we will ever see him up on the podium at the Olympics receiving a medal!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1945623887304456534-1557987972578233214?l=andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/feeds/1557987972578233214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1945623887304456534&amp;postID=1557987972578233214' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/1557987972578233214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/1557987972578233214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/2009/07/swims-like-fish.html' title='Swims Like A Fish?'/><author><name>Kacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514941853218782781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sme6m905d7I/AAAAAAAAANk/WChtHmENOFE/S220/P6054397.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SljgZI0MvWI/AAAAAAAAAM4/BaH_lqJS-bk/s72-c/Swim+Team+002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1945623887304456534.post-4698519626784792738</id><published>2009-05-10T11:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T15:48:55.472-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mother's Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SgclFvHnzoI/AAAAAAAAAIE/zv90IlQGEIM/s1600-h/Mother%27s+Day+09+007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334273064121650818" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SgclFvHnzoI/AAAAAAAAAIE/zv90IlQGEIM/s320/Mother%27s+Day+09+007.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Mother's Day, Mother's Day....brings so many things to mind&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;1. My own mother... and how blessed I am to have been raised by her. I wasn't the easiest child to love, even from a young age, but she survived me, and today she is one of my very best friends.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;2. My husband's mother... who taught him so many important things that make him such a good husband and father today. Early on I knew what an important role his mother played in his life when on one of our first dates he nearly scorched my skin from having the heat up so high in the car. When I finally asked if we could turn it down he said sure but seem surprised. I later found out that his mom told him that girls are always cold so to be a gentleman he should turn up the heat even if it made him uncomfortable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;3. All of the many things I could be doing to be a better mother! I have to say that all the talk about mothers and their divine roles sometimes just makes me feel unworthy. I know that I don't always do all I can ,but I love my children, I'm learning and I'm trying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;4. Today as I attended church and heard all the wonderful stories and tributes to mothers I was overcome with emotion and I knew why. Today, more than anything else, I am thankful to two wonderful young women that made it possible for me to be a mom. Hardly a day goes by that I don't think of them. I hope they are happy and content. I hope they are at peace. I hope they feel loved. I hope they know how much they mean to me. I hope they know how much I love these little boys and that I will never take being a mom for granted. I hope they know that I am teaching these boys about how they came to be in our family and of the love their birthmothers have for them. I hope that they are blessed for their sacrifice. And mostly, I hope that I live up to the sacrifice that was made. I love Lindsay and Elise. I hope they feel that today.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sgch0ZsCmlI/AAAAAAAAAH0/OMknIltNFig/s1600-h/Mom+and+Nathan+6.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334269467776162386" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 236px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sgch0ZsCmlI/AAAAAAAAAH0/OMknIltNFig/s320/Mom+and+Nathan+6.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sgci80AESsI/AAAAAAAAAH8/f08ptdi5QD4/s1600-h/P8290034.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334270711790062274" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 164px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 237px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sgci80AESsI/AAAAAAAAAH8/f08ptdi5QD4/s320/P8290034.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The days that I met my boys remain the most special days of my life. So many things running through my mind as I was given these little bundles....love, overwhelming responsibility, awe, and complete reverence and gratitude for a loving Heavenly Father that guided these young women to us and made my dream of being a mom come true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1945623887304456534-4698519626784792738?l=andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/feeds/4698519626784792738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1945623887304456534&amp;postID=4698519626784792738' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/4698519626784792738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/4698519626784792738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/2009/05/mothers-day.html' title='Mother&apos;s Day'/><author><name>Kacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514941853218782781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sme6m905d7I/AAAAAAAAANk/WChtHmENOFE/S220/P6054397.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SgclFvHnzoI/AAAAAAAAAIE/zv90IlQGEIM/s72-c/Mother%27s+Day+09+007.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1945623887304456534.post-1726640861044472201</id><published>2009-05-10T11:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T12:15:11.682-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Into the Wild!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SgcZPI_NeOI/AAAAAAAAAHc/0hjScdV9YJg/s1600-h/Camping+in+Cades+Cove+022.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334260031544981730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SgcZPI_NeOI/AAAAAAAAAHc/0hjScdV9YJg/s320/Camping+in+Cades+Cove+022.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;We (meaning mostly I) thought it was time that we got our kids outdoors and showed them how to camp. It took some patience waiting on the weather and Dave's schedule to give us a good weekend but we finally got our chance. We really had a good time. The boys really enjoyed being outside. I would have to say that the biggest surprise of the whole weekend was that my boys like the marshmallows and the graham crackers, but not so much the chocolate. So much for Smores! Sam was so excited about being able to sleep outside of his crib that it took quite a while for him to calm down and go to sleep.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SgcZrDLqrGI/AAAAAAAAAHk/BHUEvi6Ue0g/s1600-h/Camping+in+Cades+Cove+023.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334260511022951522" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 165px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 227px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SgcZrDLqrGI/AAAAAAAAAHk/BHUEvi6Ue0g/s320/Camping+in+Cades+Cove+023.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;I was pretty impressed with how our first little camping trip in quite a while turned out. Nathan's biggest complaint was that we didn't get to stay long enough. I guess that means we'll be going back. Now that we have all the gear in one spot and I've got this successful experience in my recent memory, I hope we will be going more often.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1945623887304456534-1726640861044472201?l=andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/feeds/1726640861044472201/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1945623887304456534&amp;postID=1726640861044472201' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/1726640861044472201'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/1726640861044472201'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/2009/05/into-wild.html' title='Into the Wild!'/><author><name>Kacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514941853218782781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sme6m905d7I/AAAAAAAAANk/WChtHmENOFE/S220/P6054397.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SgcZPI_NeOI/AAAAAAAAAHc/0hjScdV9YJg/s72-c/Camping+in+Cades+Cove+022.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1945623887304456534.post-7449447290562761816</id><published>2009-05-10T10:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T12:15:36.806-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Little Trip</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;Dave's work schedule is crazy. I won't spell it out for you, mostly because I can't remember how it goes. Let's just say he's gone a lot and at wierd and long hours. So, when he is away from work we take advantage of that time as best we can. Going to amusements parks is quickly becoming our family's favorite thing to do together. Dave loves that Nathan is so fearless and will ride anything they will let him on. I love this too because it gets me off the hook. This trip was even more fun because Sam is now big enough to ride on some of the "kiddie" rides. (I can't believe he's so big already!) Nathan enjoyed showing Sam the ropes and if truth be told, I think he enjoyed the "kiddie" rides with Sam more than the big rides with Dad.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SgcVM-LTctI/AAAAAAAAAHE/kvfASMhhCf4/s1600-h/Kings+Island+April+09+041.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334255596236665554" style="WIDTH: 190px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 135px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SgcVM-LTctI/AAAAAAAAAHE/kvfASMhhCf4/s320/Kings+Island+April+09+041.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SgcV3GY8FOI/AAAAAAAAAHM/pYjBft04eyQ/s1600-h/Kings+Island+April+09+044.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334256319995843810" style="WIDTH: 187px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 132px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SgcV3GY8FOI/AAAAAAAAAHM/pYjBft04eyQ/s320/Kings+Island+April+09+044.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SgcWiB3bOiI/AAAAAAAAAHU/UbqyUewu_oI/s1600-h/Kings+Island+April+09+056.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334257057515911714" style="WIDTH: 188px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 130px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SgcWiB3bOiI/AAAAAAAAAHU/UbqyUewu_oI/s320/Kings+Island+April+09+056.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1945623887304456534-7449447290562761816?l=andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/feeds/7449447290562761816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1945623887304456534&amp;postID=7449447290562761816' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/7449447290562761816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/7449447290562761816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/2009/05/another-little-trip.html' title='Another Little Trip'/><author><name>Kacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514941853218782781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sme6m905d7I/AAAAAAAAANk/WChtHmENOFE/S220/P6054397.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SgcVM-LTctI/AAAAAAAAAHE/kvfASMhhCf4/s72-c/Kings+Island+April+09+041.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1945623887304456534.post-7877740644301832427</id><published>2009-04-06T18:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-14T17:41:00.227-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Did you think to pray?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;Tonight Nathan overheard Dave and I talking about the chance of snow tomorrow, yes, in April. So naturally when it came time for Nathan to say his prayers he prayed that it would snow tonight so that he wouldn't have to go to school tomorrow. Normal kid thing to do, right? Then he paused and said "but if I do have to go to school, bless me that I won't be grumpy about it and that I will have a good day." One of those proud mama moments. Also one of those moments that made me wonder "where did my baby go?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1945623887304456534-7877740644301832427?l=andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/feeds/7877740644301832427/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1945623887304456534&amp;postID=7877740644301832427' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/7877740644301832427'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/7877740644301832427'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/2009/04/did-you-think-to-pray.html' title='Did you think to pray?'/><author><name>Kacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514941853218782781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sme6m905d7I/AAAAAAAAANk/WChtHmENOFE/S220/P6054397.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1945623887304456534.post-7522678645558038703</id><published>2009-03-29T13:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-14T17:40:39.703-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nathan'/><title type='text'>These Little Wonders</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sc_lR1_ZAxI/AAAAAAAAAG4/4jfcBpPP4zI/s1600-h/DSC03359.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 229px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318721779661341458" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sc_lR1_ZAxI/AAAAAAAAAG4/4jfcBpPP4zI/s320/DSC03359.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I debated about whether or not to post this here. It seems a little personal to share here, but this is my only record of the things that go on in the Jackson family and I thought this was pretty important to record somewhere, so I guess it will be here. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Everyone knows that Nathan is pretty funny. Nathan is also pretty sensitive, but struggles sometimes with how to deal with that. He doesn't always know how to express it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I made a playlist on my ipod for the primary songs they are learning for this years program. (I know, I've really reached a new level of "momness" or something) As we were listening Nathan had been singing along and we were talking about the songs and trying to learn the words. The next song that came on was Families Can Be Together Forever. I started to sing and when it reached the chorus my eyes filled with tears. I also noticed at that time that Nathan wasn't singing. I turned around to see that his eyes were also filled with tears and when he saw me looking he seemed a little embarrassed. I asked him why the tears and he said "I don't know mom, this song just makes me feel kinda funny in my chest and my eyes just started having tears." I told him that I had felt the same way as I was listening to the song. I told him that was the Holy Ghost letting us know that the words in that song were true. He seemed pretty pleased with this explanation and a big smile spread across his face. When the song was over he asked if I could play the "Holy Ghost" song again. I didn't correct him on the title. That seemed like a pretty good title to me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Sometimes the kids are the teachers. More often than not their methods are nontraditional, but we have a lot we can learn from them. I just need to remind myself of that more often. Nathan didn't know that moment with him was exactly what I needed today, or maybe he did. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1945623887304456534-7522678645558038703?l=andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/feeds/7522678645558038703/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1945623887304456534&amp;postID=7522678645558038703' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/7522678645558038703'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/7522678645558038703'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/2009/03/these-little-wonders.html' title='These Little Wonders'/><author><name>Kacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514941853218782781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sme6m905d7I/AAAAAAAAANk/WChtHmENOFE/S220/P6054397.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sc_lR1_ZAxI/AAAAAAAAAG4/4jfcBpPP4zI/s72-c/DSC03359.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1945623887304456534.post-8177531747861632648</id><published>2009-03-28T11:39:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-28T15:03:40.169-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sam'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nathan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='brothers'/><title type='text'>Having Two Finally Pays Off</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I'm not gonna lie. Most days having these two boys in the same house makes me crazy. They are 5 years apart so you would think that they wouldn't find much to fight about. But you would be wrong. Whatever Nathan has Sam wants it. Whatever Sam has, Nathan doesn't want him to have it. Nathan never puts his stuff away, Sam gets it, scuffle &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ensues&lt;/span&gt;, Nathan is too rough, Sam delivers a blood curdling scream, I resist bolting out the front door and staying gone for a few hours. They wrestle, they are LOUD! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318312250342725730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 241px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 227px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sc5w0GZJWGI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/a_J1mVWdXw0/s320/Carwash.jpg" border="0" /&gt;And sometimes it is all worth it. Sam hates the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;car wash&lt;/span&gt;. It's really quite sad. I usually go when Nathan is in school. I try to console him, but he just ends up screaming until we come out the other side away from the scary foam and brushes. The other day Nathan was with us. He was very concerned when Sam started to whine as we approached the entrance to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;car wash&lt;/span&gt;. Once we got in and Sam started to cry Nathan got out of his seat and went to Sam. He held him like this through the whole thing assuring him and saying "it's okay, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;shhh&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;shhh&lt;/span&gt;". Of course I cried. This is why we wanted two. This is why everyone needs a sibling. When I dried my tears I took a picture to look at later; when they are wrestling and screaming and I want to run from the house and never look back. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I guess I could load them in the car and take them to the car wash!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1945623887304456534-8177531747861632648?l=andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/feeds/8177531747861632648/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1945623887304456534&amp;postID=8177531747861632648' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/8177531747861632648'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/8177531747861632648'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/2009/03/having-two-finally-pays-off.html' title='Having Two Finally Pays Off'/><author><name>Kacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514941853218782781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sme6m905d7I/AAAAAAAAANk/WChtHmENOFE/S220/P6054397.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sc5w0GZJWGI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/a_J1mVWdXw0/s72-c/Carwash.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1945623887304456534.post-6178869181768682421</id><published>2009-03-28T11:36:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-28T12:23:38.643-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sam'/><title type='text'>Sam Walks The Dog</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sc5ufy94TGI/AAAAAAAAAGA/ss2n4NDC6fw/s1600-h/Naked+Baby+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318309702507449442" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sc5ufy94TGI/AAAAAAAAAGA/ss2n4NDC6fw/s320/Naked+Baby+001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;font-size:180%;"&gt;Sometimes the dog just must be walked.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1945623887304456534-6178869181768682421?l=andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/feeds/6178869181768682421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1945623887304456534&amp;postID=6178869181768682421' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/6178869181768682421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/6178869181768682421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/2009/03/sam-walks-dog.html' title='Sam Walks The Dog'/><author><name>Kacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514941853218782781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sme6m905d7I/AAAAAAAAANk/WChtHmENOFE/S220/P6054397.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sc5ufy94TGI/AAAAAAAAAGA/ss2n4NDC6fw/s72-c/Naked+Baby+001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1945623887304456534.post-3624983773419141396</id><published>2009-03-28T06:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-28T15:06:09.887-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='trips'/><title type='text'>Another White Dash</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sc5zu2trUNI/AAAAAAAAAGY/yp9kweE1kto/s1600-h/Chattanooga+012.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318240489991132834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 224px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 206px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sc4vjGQFVqI/AAAAAAAAAEs/WA3Ro-JdWTs/s200/Chattanooga+008.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Another White Dash is a song by Butterfly Boucher. The lyrics are: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;There is something exciting about leaving everything behind.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;There is something deep and pulling leaving everything behind&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Something about having everything you think you'll ever need sitting in the seat next to you.&lt;/em&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;And I watch another white dash, another white dash, another white dash, fly beside us. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I think about this song every time I get in the car with my family. I love to go on road trips, just the four of us. And it doesn't really matter where we go. Okay, it does matter where we go. It has to be somewhere a few hours away. I do not relish the thought of packing up and driving to Utah, Florida or even Mississippi. All too far. But a few hours in the car on our way to discover something together is fun.&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sc51YpuVqPI/AAAAAAAAAGg/SHfLf-vfqKI/s1600-h/Chattanooga+012.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318317276348655858" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 172px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 244px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sc51YpuVqPI/AAAAAAAAAGg/SHfLf-vfqKI/s320/Chattanooga+012.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sc56QHo0gqI/AAAAAAAAAGw/0pv-ABFKH4s/s1600-h/Chattanooga+054.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318322627317891746" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 170px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 248px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sc56QHo0gqI/AAAAAAAAAGw/0pv-ABFKH4s/s320/Chattanooga+054.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sc52B0Ub5AI/AAAAAAAAAGo/IdokRHLskJE/s1600-h/Chattanooga+054.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sc52B0Ub5AI/AAAAAAAAAGo/IdokRHLskJE/s1600-h/Chattanooga+054.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We took one of those little trips in February. We went to Chattanooga. Perfect distance. Kids don't' get too cranky. I don't' get too anxious. Dave and I don't' run out of things to talk about. Perfect. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;We visited the Incline Railway, The Aquarium, Red Robin (mmmm), and the Vandeheis. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Incline Railway - Overrated.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Aquarium - Loved It.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Red Robin - mmmmm. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Vandeheis - easy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time in the car with everything I will ever need...priceless. Afterall, I did have my iphone. ;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sc52B0Ub5AI/AAAAAAAAAGo/IdokRHLskJE/s1600-h/Chattanooga+054.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1945623887304456534-3624983773419141396?l=andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/feeds/3624983773419141396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1945623887304456534&amp;postID=3624983773419141396' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/3624983773419141396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/3624983773419141396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/2009/03/another-white-dash.html' title='Another White Dash'/><author><name>Kacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514941853218782781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sme6m905d7I/AAAAAAAAANk/WChtHmENOFE/S220/P6054397.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sc4vjGQFVqI/AAAAAAAAAEs/WA3Ro-JdWTs/s72-c/Chattanooga+008.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1945623887304456534.post-2032324534122997797</id><published>2009-03-28T06:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-28T11:33:28.479-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sam'/><title type='text'>Sam = Funny</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sc4qFVviwjI/AAAAAAAAAEk/V4QxBnWENBM/s1600-h/IMG_1850.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318234481195401778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 313px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 224px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sc4qFVviwjI/AAAAAAAAAEk/V4QxBnWENBM/s320/IMG_1850.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I think my last post about Sam was about his "sweetness". He is still sweet. It's his nature. But now, if someone asked me to give them one word to describe Sam, I would say "funny". Everything about him is funny. The way he walks. The way he talks. And especially his facial expressions. He has two famous faces. The "stink eye" and "big lips". At some point the two became one and we couldn't get enough of it. Anytime I needed to relieve some stress or just have a good laugh I would get Sam to give me the face. This was taken on the way back from Mississippi after Christmas. He had been crying. Hates the car. I was trying to entertain him. I was failing. I got the camera out to capture the moment. This is what I got. Sweet Sam. Sweet, funny Sam.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1945623887304456534-2032324534122997797?l=andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/feeds/2032324534122997797/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1945623887304456534&amp;postID=2032324534122997797' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/2032324534122997797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/2032324534122997797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/2009/03/sam-funny.html' title='Sam = Funny'/><author><name>Kacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514941853218782781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sme6m905d7I/AAAAAAAAANk/WChtHmENOFE/S220/P6054397.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sc4qFVviwjI/AAAAAAAAAEk/V4QxBnWENBM/s72-c/IMG_1850.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1945623887304456534.post-2351844128996541127</id><published>2009-03-28T05:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-28T11:34:05.610-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mississippi'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christmas'/><title type='text'>Christmas In Mississippi</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sc4hqUyzlSI/AAAAAAAAAEc/bG6U4XQ_Sak/s1600-h/IMG_1786.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318225220991161634" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sc4hqUyzlSI/AAAAAAAAAEc/bG6U4XQ_Sak/s320/IMG_1786.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; &lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;We spent Christmas this year in Mississippi. (Dave's comment to that would be "this?" Christmas?) There were lots of kids (can someone say Valium?), and TOO much food. Oh, the food. On and on with the food. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Actually&lt;/span&gt; the picture here should just be a truck load of food, but it didn't stay around long enough to take any pictures of it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most years thinking of something to get Dave for Christmas leaves me with a massive headache and him with a new tie. This year I came up the the perfect gift. I was so excited! I started working on it months before and I had to be really sneaky to get it done and to my mom and dad's without his knowledge. It was so much fun! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Tis&lt;/span&gt; really better to give than to receive. (when you're not giving a lame present that you are ashamed of) Who'd a thunk it?&lt;br /&gt;This double &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;seater&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;tricylce&lt;/span&gt; is one that Dave and his brother got back in 72. His parents bought it in Australia. And thanks to them for holding on to it all these years! His mom even had the assembly instructions and bolt etc. taped to the handlebars. We've been talking about having it restored for years, but never got around to it. Okay, when I said "working on it" before, let me clarify. I looked through the phone book and found someone else to "work on it" and took it to him. He did a great job. To add to the "excitement" for me, we were coming up on the week before we were to leave for Mississippi and it still wasn't finished. I had yet to work out the tiny little detail of how to get it there. Traditional shipping at this late date was going to cost me one of my children. I considered taking it with us in the van but couldn't think of a clever enough story to explain the huge box in the back. My dad rescued me by telling me that Greyhound will ship packages. Greyhound, you say? Yes! It cost me $40 bucks and got there the same day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was also a surprise for the kids. It was Dave's gift, but he has grown quite a bit since 1972, so I doubted that he would be able to actually "use" it. That would be up to the kids. I knew he would enjoy seeing them enjoy it the way he and his brother had. I also presented him with a picture of he and his brother Darrell on in back in 72 as the tricylce was rolled out. He may or may not have teared up a bit. It &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;doesn't&lt;/span&gt; happen often, but I felt pleased with my offering. I had found something he would remember getting. Incidentally, he did think he was getting a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;XBox&lt;/span&gt; 360. I had been telling him that he was getting a big surprise. So the tears might not have been the sweet, happy kind. They might have been the "my wife tricked me" kind, but I prefer to think that they were the happy kind of tears you have when you know that someone loves you by the thought they put into a gift. Anyone can buy an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;XBOX&lt;/span&gt;....and HE did.. for himself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sc4g7W8sPPI/AAAAAAAAAEU/AgtDzUD869w/s1600-h/IMG_1786.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sc4gaeGQQDI/AAAAAAAAAEM/Md3RqSEQ9pg/s1600-h/IMG_1786.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1945623887304456534-2351844128996541127?l=andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/feeds/2351844128996541127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1945623887304456534&amp;postID=2351844128996541127' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/2351844128996541127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/2351844128996541127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/2009/03/christmas-in-mississippi.html' title='Christmas In Mississippi'/><author><name>Kacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514941853218782781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sme6m905d7I/AAAAAAAAANk/WChtHmENOFE/S220/P6054397.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sc4hqUyzlSI/AAAAAAAAAEc/bG6U4XQ_Sak/s72-c/IMG_1786.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1945623887304456534.post-2422716630541710356</id><published>2009-03-28T05:38:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-28T12:20:20.674-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nathan'/><title type='text'>"Back"  Bloggging</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt; &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;So I have been a bad, bad blogger. Like every other area in my life, I struggle with consistency. But after a lot of reprimanding and peer pressure I feel like I can tackle this thing again...for today.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I am "back" blogging. As I searched through pictures to remind me of the eventful things that have happened since my last entry, I found my first tasty little nugget. My family's personal history could not be recorded without this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sc4bfSIrgWI/AAAAAAAAAD8/DSHGpJFKZhs/s1600-h/IMG_1863.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318218434229272930" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 295px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sc4bfSIrgWI/AAAAAAAAAD8/DSHGpJFKZhs/s320/IMG_1863.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sc4eVAlHNJI/AAAAAAAAAEE/VBK8jqV6dhk/s1600-h/IMG_1867.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318221556252882066" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sc4eVAlHNJI/AAAAAAAAAEE/VBK8jqV6dhk/s200/IMG_1867.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sc4eVAlHNJI/AAAAAAAAAEE/VBK8jqV6dhk/s1600-h/IMG_1867.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sc4eVAlHNJI/AAAAAAAAAEE/VBK8jqV6dhk/s1600-h/IMG_1867.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The story behind this is that I asked Nathan to get dressed. This means that he needed to take the long, long trek upstairs. ALL the way upstairs to find some pants. Nathan has many great qualities, but Nathan is very, very lazy! I have a basket on the stairs where I put things that need to go upstairs on my next trip up there. (hey...maybe he came by the lazy thing naturally, I'm not saying he didn't) Anyway, he found Sam's 12-18 month jeans in this basket and managed  to squeeze his 6 year old body into them. The frightening bit of this story is that he was serious about wearing them. He just went back to what he was doing. It took me a few minutes to figure out what he had done. (I didn't recall buying him knee length, crotch hugging pedal pushers) It took some  convincing to get him out of those things, but I did seize the opportunity for a few photos first.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sc4eVAlHNJI/AAAAAAAAAEE/VBK8jqV6dhk/s1600-h/IMG_1867.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1945623887304456534-2422716630541710356?l=andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/feeds/2422716630541710356/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1945623887304456534&amp;postID=2422716630541710356' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/2422716630541710356'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/2422716630541710356'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/2009/03/back-bloggging.html' title='&quot;Back&quot;  Bloggging'/><author><name>Kacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514941853218782781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sme6m905d7I/AAAAAAAAANk/WChtHmENOFE/S220/P6054397.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sc4bfSIrgWI/AAAAAAAAAD8/DSHGpJFKZhs/s72-c/IMG_1863.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1945623887304456534.post-2552341725111209802</id><published>2008-11-30T08:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-07-14T17:41:46.842-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nathan'/><title type='text'>My How He's Grown</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/STK9renCtUI/AAAAAAAAAC4/8dSMQ-tcgII/s1600-h/Mom+and+Nathan+6.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274486668253115714" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/STK9renCtUI/AAAAAAAAAC4/8dSMQ-tcgII/s200/Mom+and+Nathan+6.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/STK7jWQIrBI/AAAAAAAAACw/yhbRh82nT64/s1600-h/Mom+and+Nathan5.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/STK7avQA-JI/AAAAAAAAACo/-ldYSIipd0Q/s1600-h/Daddy+and+Nathan+2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274484181638903954" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/STK7avQA-JI/AAAAAAAAACo/-ldYSIipd0Q/s200/Daddy+and+Nathan+2.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;From the first moment we laid eyes on him, Nathan changed our lives in more ways than we thought possible. He has already, in his six short years, taught me more about myself than I managed to learn all those years before him. He was long awaited and well worth the wait. We've spoiled him at times, been too rough on him, expected too much and tolerated more than we should, but he IS our first and thus has been somewhat of an experiment. All those things you tell yourself about how you will be as a parent BEFORE you are a parent come back to haunt you in ways you never thought possible. I've laughed more and cried more for and because of this little person than I ever thought possible. I've made lots of mistakes and am certain there will be more. Because of that, I am grateful that children are so resilient and so very forgiving. It's been six years since the day he came into our lives. It's going by all too quickly. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Nathan is a unique character. He is wise beyond his years in many ways, and more silly than I've ever seen. He's compassionate and worries about other people's feelings. He's trying to be a good big brother. He struggles sometimes, but his eyes light up when he sees his little brother. He's wild and has lots of energy. He's bright and likes to do things perfect on the very first try. He's up for anything and has a real adventuresome spirit. He will try anything once. He has a vivid imagination, and always has us in stitches with the things he says. To that end, I am going to post some of the funny and most often embarrassing things he has said lately. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;One day after asking him the same question three or four times with no response, he finally looked at me and said "Mom, is your mouth broke or something because I think it's stuck in rewind."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;He's also very fond of saying to me, when he thinks I've interuppted him, "Well, as I was saying..."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;He barged in on me in the bathroom the other day just as I was pulling back the shower curtain and said "I feel like I should cover my eyes or something. Your chest looks really 'funKAAAY.'" (funky)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;He has this ongoing dialogue about his bathroom business and why it takes so long. Somehow he has related moving his bowels to people at the carnival. Sometimes the lines are long. One time he said "Attention passengers! Keep your hands and feet inside the vehicle at all times." On another occasion, when it was taking him a particularly long time and I was pretty sure he was stalling because he didn't want to go to bed, he explained to me "Mom sometimes there are old people in the front of the line at the carnival and you know old people are slow".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;On a more serious note he frequently has bad dreams and prays every night that he will not have them. A few days ago he told me that he had a dream that Heavenly Father came for a visit and gave Nathan a big hug before He left. Nathan said that he was pretty sure he had that dream because Heavenly Father was trying to keep the bad dreams away. I love his innocence and faith.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;So, Happy Birthday, Nathan. I love you. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/STK67cJrrwI/AAAAAAAAACg/8Lstn-30NqQ/s1600-h/Mom+and+Nathan+4.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/STK5eirEZbI/AAAAAAAAACY/IQK7KXkNTrk/s1600-h/Nathan+and+daddy+3.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/STK5PGkrrfI/AAAAAAAAACQ/N1a_k5V8nxw/s1600-h/Mom+and+Nathan+1.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/STLF12Mq2zI/AAAAAAAAADQ/YnNIQ3F2QVU/s1600-h/Senatobia+September+007.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274495642476665650" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/STLF12Mq2zI/AAAAAAAAADQ/YnNIQ3F2QVU/s320/Senatobia+September+007.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/STLE99GrLrI/AAAAAAAAADI/FVU2r8vWLXg/s1600-h/Mom+%26+The+Boys+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274494682257895090" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/STLE99GrLrI/AAAAAAAAADI/FVU2r8vWLXg/s320/Mom+%26+The+Boys+001.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1945623887304456534-2552341725111209802?l=andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/feeds/2552341725111209802/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1945623887304456534&amp;postID=2552341725111209802' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/2552341725111209802'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/2552341725111209802'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/2008/11/my-how-hes-grown.html' title='My How He&apos;s Grown'/><author><name>Kacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514941853218782781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sme6m905d7I/AAAAAAAAANk/WChtHmENOFE/S220/P6054397.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/STK9renCtUI/AAAAAAAAAC4/8dSMQ-tcgII/s72-c/Mom+and+Nathan+6.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1945623887304456534.post-3449283182323899669</id><published>2008-11-30T07:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-28T08:23:17.638-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Thanksgiving'/><title type='text'>Thanksgiving</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/STK1-6uQRDI/AAAAAAAAACI/Uti8hhELEzE/s1600-h/Thanksgiving+08+007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274478206124049458" style="WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/STK1-6uQRDI/AAAAAAAAACI/Uti8hhELEzE/s200/Thanksgiving+08+007.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a quiet Thanksgiving at our house this year. Dave had to work the night before and after so we stayed here and enjoyed this holiday alone. I made enough food for a small to medium sized army and we did a few things to try to make it more memorable for our family. It was a nice relaxing day and I am thankful for all that I have and especially for the three boys I shared a table with that day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/STK1P5ADSjI/AAAAAAAAACA/5rCE0wGHpRM/s1600-h/Thanksgiving+08+017.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274477398207973938" style="WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/STK1P5ADSjI/AAAAAAAAACA/5rCE0wGHpRM/s320/Thanksgiving+08+017.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1945623887304456534-3449283182323899669?l=andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/feeds/3449283182323899669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1945623887304456534&amp;postID=3449283182323899669' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/3449283182323899669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/3449283182323899669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/2008/11/thanksgiving.html' title='Thanksgiving'/><author><name>Kacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514941853218782781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sme6m905d7I/AAAAAAAAANk/WChtHmENOFE/S220/P6054397.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/STK1-6uQRDI/AAAAAAAAACI/Uti8hhELEzE/s72-c/Thanksgiving+08+007.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1945623887304456534.post-6950991595482931213</id><published>2008-11-30T07:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-28T08:23:42.963-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='trips'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Florida'/><title type='text'>End Of Summer</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/STKzPHbtaKI/AAAAAAAAABw/wXgJBDgk8mU/s1600-h/Orlando+08+076.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5274475185878952098" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/STKzPHbtaKI/AAAAAAAAABw/wXgJBDgk8mU/s320/Orlando+08+076.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We marked the end of summer with a trip to Orlando. We drove down as a pre-birthday trip for Nathan. We took his cousin Oliver along because in Nathan's world Oliver makes everything better. Sam stayed with Grandma &amp;amp; Grandpa while we spent a few days at Islands of Adventure &amp;amp; Universal Studios. We had a great time and it was a trip we won't soon forget. To sum it up, here were each of our favorite things about the trip.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nathan - having his cousin Oliver along&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sam - having Grandma let him drink out of a big boy cup. She is SO patient&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dave - being able to show the kids such a great time&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me - my first (and hopefully not last) full body massage. ahhhh&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1945623887304456534-6950991595482931213?l=andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/feeds/6950991595482931213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1945623887304456534&amp;postID=6950991595482931213' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/6950991595482931213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/6950991595482931213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/2008/11/end-of-summer.html' title='End Of Summer'/><author><name>Kacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514941853218782781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sme6m905d7I/AAAAAAAAANk/WChtHmENOFE/S220/P6054397.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/STKzPHbtaKI/AAAAAAAAABw/wXgJBDgk8mU/s72-c/Orlando+08+076.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1945623887304456534.post-7022343180812092650</id><published>2008-10-01T17:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-28T08:23:57.014-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nathan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><title type='text'>Kindergarten Fishes &amp; Kisses</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SOQjknj3wkI/AAAAAAAAABI/j4GHhWNVswo/s1600-h/Fish+n%27+lips.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252362177422541378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SOQjknj3wkI/AAAAAAAAABI/j4GHhWNVswo/s320/Fish+n%27+lips.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Just thought I would add an update on Nathan's progress in kindergarten. Since my last post about it we hit an all time low with two trips to the Principal's office in two weeks! One trip to the Principal's office was because he hit another child in the lunch room. Upon further examination I discovered that what started the conflict was that he tried to kiss this little girl. She didn't like it so she hit him and he hit her back. When I talked to him about it he said very matter of fact that he just wanted to kiss her and "actually mom there is another girl in my class that I want to kiss." We worked with him a lot and had lots of talks about keeping our hands and lips to ourselves. Dave blames the kissing on me. I'm a kisser. I kiss on my boys lots. Nathan kisses everyone. His teachers, his friends and it often gets him in trouble or puts him in awkward positions to say the least. His teacher has also been really great and he respects her tremendously which is a lot for Nathan. Since then he has only had his fish moved down a few times. He made it four out of five days last week. He has even learned to "turn the other cheek" so to speak if someone is bothering him. In his latest episode he took the "turn the other cheek" thing very literally when a little girl in his class kissed him several times. (5 times to be exact according to Nathan) He said he just told on her because kissing is a "no, no NEVER".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;So... for now our fish woes are on the back burner, never far from my thoughts, but not keeping me up at night either. Through all of this he has taught me about faith. He reminds me each morning that we need to pray that he can be good at school. He says that if he listens Heavenly Father tells him not to do things sometimes. We have forgotten a few times and one of those times he had a not so great day. He immediately told me that it was because we didn't have prayer. What can I say to that? Out of the mouths of babes....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1945623887304456534-7022343180812092650?l=andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/feeds/7022343180812092650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1945623887304456534&amp;postID=7022343180812092650' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/7022343180812092650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/7022343180812092650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/2008/10/kindergarten-fishes-kisses.html' title='Kindergarten Fishes &amp; Kisses'/><author><name>Kacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514941853218782781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sme6m905d7I/AAAAAAAAANk/WChtHmENOFE/S220/P6054397.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SOQjknj3wkI/AAAAAAAAABI/j4GHhWNVswo/s72-c/Fish+n%27+lips.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1945623887304456534.post-5630860705385629678</id><published>2008-09-29T16:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-28T08:24:17.636-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sam'/><title type='text'>Sweet Sam</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SOFfLZaJ3JI/AAAAAAAAABA/fik-klwqI6U/s1600-h/Samuel+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5251583289894493330" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SOFfLZaJ3JI/AAAAAAAAABA/fik-klwqI6U/s320/Samuel+004.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I feel terrible because I don't have more to say about Sam. Sam is just sweet. Every day with him is easy. He thinks he's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;at least&lt;/span&gt; 4. He wants to do everything he sees his big brother doing. He doesn't know he's tiny. He has the best laugh. No matter what kind of mood I am in if that baby laughs I instantly feel better. He has such a sweet disposition. The ladies at the gym would steal him from me if they thought they could get away with it. He is truly a joy. He just doesn't do much that is newsworthy right now. I guess none of this is really &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;newsworthy&lt;/span&gt;, but some things are just more interesting than others.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1945623887304456534-5630860705385629678?l=andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/feeds/5630860705385629678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1945623887304456534&amp;postID=5630860705385629678' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/5630860705385629678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/5630860705385629678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/2008/09/sweet-sam.html' title='Sweet Sam'/><author><name>Kacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514941853218782781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sme6m905d7I/AAAAAAAAANk/WChtHmENOFE/S220/P6054397.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SOFfLZaJ3JI/AAAAAAAAABA/fik-klwqI6U/s72-c/Samuel+004.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1945623887304456534.post-5819286047922467785</id><published>2008-09-28T04:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-28T08:24:33.863-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nathan'/><title type='text'>"I don't think I should call you mom"</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Last night I took Nathan out on a "date". It really wasn't much of a date. I really needed him to go to the mall with me so we could get new church pants for him and he desperately needed to change his clothes before we went out, so I called it a "date". As we were driving to the mall and talking he interrupted me and said "you know, if you are going to be my date I don't think I should call you mom, I think I should call you beautiful." Awww...I know. Sweet, huh? Later though as I dragged him in and out of stores he let go of my hand and yelled at me saying "you are the worst date in the world. Dad is more fun to go on a date with!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just for the record, one Cinnabon later he was back to holding my hand and calling me beautiful! Men are so fickle, aren't they?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1945623887304456534-5819286047922467785?l=andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/feeds/5819286047922467785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1945623887304456534&amp;postID=5819286047922467785' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/5819286047922467785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/5819286047922467785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/2008/09/i-dont-think-i-should-call-you-mom.html' title='&quot;I don&apos;t think I should call you mom&quot;'/><author><name>Kacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514941853218782781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sme6m905d7I/AAAAAAAAANk/WChtHmENOFE/S220/P6054397.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1945623887304456534.post-225678180525265568</id><published>2008-09-23T12:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-28T08:24:48.060-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nathan'/><title type='text'>Three Goods</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SNlHY15bOKI/AAAAAAAAAA4/8uIAQ8jJuX0/s1600-h/Nathan+002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249305332787394722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SNlHY15bOKI/AAAAAAAAAA4/8uIAQ8jJuX0/s320/Nathan+002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;So Nathan took a break from eating his most favorite meal of noodles with butter and salt to find me and tell me something very important.&lt;br /&gt;"Mom, I have three goods inside me. One...I'm so exciting to go to gymnastics. Two...I got to get a toy from the treasure chest and Three...You gave me a big hug because you were so proud of me".&lt;br /&gt;At least I made the list, right? Some things just make it all worth it, don't they?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1945623887304456534-225678180525265568?l=andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/feeds/225678180525265568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1945623887304456534&amp;postID=225678180525265568' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/225678180525265568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/225678180525265568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/2008/09/three-goods.html' title='Three Goods'/><author><name>Kacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514941853218782781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sme6m905d7I/AAAAAAAAANk/WChtHmENOFE/S220/P6054397.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SNlHY15bOKI/AAAAAAAAAA4/8uIAQ8jJuX0/s72-c/Nathan+002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1945623887304456534.post-5015642439430762959</id><published>2008-09-16T12:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T17:08:49.755-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nathan'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funny'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SNAMmX1CKPI/AAAAAAAAAAs/dFoEg1Hryas/s1600-h/bacon.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246707419257645298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SNAMmX1CKPI/AAAAAAAAAAs/dFoEg1Hryas/s320/bacon.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Nathan says something totally hilarious every day. I have not been that great at writing these things down. I know this will eventually be one of my biggest regrets in life. This morning as he walked behind me, he took a big sniff (why he would do that I don't know) and then said "mom, your bootie smells like bacon." Where this stuff comes from I do not know and I am quite possibly unknowingly revealing something really embarrassing about myself by telling this little story. But honestly I do not know what could be so bad about smelling like pork!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1945623887304456534-5015642439430762959?l=andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/feeds/5015642439430762959/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1945623887304456534&amp;postID=5015642439430762959' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/5015642439430762959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/5015642439430762959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/2008/09/nathan-says-something-totally-hilarious.html' title=''/><author><name>Kacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514941853218782781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sme6m905d7I/AAAAAAAAANk/WChtHmENOFE/S220/P6054397.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SNAMmX1CKPI/AAAAAAAAAAs/dFoEg1Hryas/s72-c/bacon.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1945623887304456534.post-2459267958307365425</id><published>2008-09-16T12:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T17:09:06.010-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sam'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='walking'/><title type='text'>Sam "Boogie" is walking!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SNAKbO06NQI/AAAAAAAAAAc/vueY3K3dqIg/s1600-h/Sam+Walking+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5246705028839388418" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SNAKbO06NQI/AAAAAAAAAAc/vueY3K3dqIg/s320/Sam+Walking+001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I can't believe it's happening already, but our little guy is walking. I think Nathan captured it best when he took some of his first steps and Nathan said "I must be dreaming...is my little brother really walking". Sam is so proud of himself. He thinks he's such a big boy. He doesn't realize that because he is my last baby he must remain as such for as long as possible!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1945623887304456534-2459267958307365425?l=andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/feeds/2459267958307365425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1945623887304456534&amp;postID=2459267958307365425' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/2459267958307365425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/2459267958307365425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/2008/09/sam-boogie-is-walking.html' title='Sam &quot;Boogie&quot; is walking!'/><author><name>Kacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514941853218782781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sme6m905d7I/AAAAAAAAANk/WChtHmENOFE/S220/P6054397.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SNAKbO06NQI/AAAAAAAAAAc/vueY3K3dqIg/s72-c/Sam+Walking+001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1945623887304456534.post-6815396808751948482</id><published>2008-09-10T09:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-28T08:25:04.756-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Nathan'/><title type='text'>Kingergarten Woes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SMf0XJ-P-UI/AAAAAAAAAAM/thMX_ia_pwo/s1600-h/First+Day+Of+School+003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5244428969747413314" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SMf0XJ-P-UI/AAAAAAAAAAM/thMX_ia_pwo/s320/First+Day+Of+School+003.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;So my little guy started kindergarten this year. I can hardly believe it. It was a sad day for mom and has continued to be a struggle. My happiness revolves around the position of Nathan's fish in the sea and whether or not he gets a "sad bear" in his backpack. "Sad bear" is not so "sad" as he is "mad" bear. I guess sad just sounds nicer. I took him off sugar, atleast in the morning and in his lunch box, checked out a slew of books about discipline and child rearing, spent a lot of time on my knees and in the bathroom literally sick. He started saying things like "I wish it could just be like it used to be when I could just stay home and snuggle you." &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Well, I had my first parent-teacher conference this week. I was fully prepared to be told that my child was the worst case she had ever seen and that he was a lost cause. Instead she was very positive! She said that Nathan was improving daily. She could tell that we had been working with him a lot at home and that he was very motivated to do well which is a good sign. When I told her of all the things I had done already to recitfy the situation she looked a little shocked. First time parent stuff maybe, but I think I way overreacted. She said she was most pleased with Nathan's honesty. Anyone who knows him knows this is his trademark. According to his teacher when he got in trouble last week for throwing carrots in the lunchroom and she called him over to talk to him about it he said "well you know, it's actually not the first time I've done that." Can't fault the guy for being honest I guess. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;So, for now, we are optimistic about his kindergarten future. How many more years of this do we have to go through? If I wasn't absolutley positive that I would do the most terrible job ever I would home school him. Although I don't think a vast knowledge of blogging and facebook would help him out much!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1945623887304456534-6815396808751948482?l=andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/feeds/6815396808751948482/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1945623887304456534&amp;postID=6815396808751948482' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/6815396808751948482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1945623887304456534/posts/default/6815396808751948482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://andbabymakesfour07.blogspot.com/2008/09/kingergarten-woes.html' title='Kingergarten Woes'/><author><name>Kacey</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06514941853218782781</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/Sme6m905d7I/AAAAAAAAANk/WChtHmENOFE/S220/P6054397.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_cEXAf1muCtk/SMf0XJ-P-UI/AAAAAAAAAAM/thMX_ia_pwo/s72-c/First+Day+Of+School+003.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
