<?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-2282864000533678487</id><updated>2011-07-31T05:24:17.664-04:00</updated><category term='Kate'/><category term='Mom Prom'/><title type='text'>Why Julia &amp; Jimmy Rule Our World and Other True Tales</title><subtitle type='html'>Our regular cast of characters are:
Kurt (Hubby and Baby Daddy) who works for the Big 3; 
Kate (Housewife &amp;amp; Mom) whose life is somewhere between Desperate Housewives and an episode of Super Nanny; 
Julia (Child #1 - 5yrs) lover of all things girly, American Girl Dolls, Superheroes and Star Wars; 
Jimmy (Child #2 - 3yrs) boy wonder who is into cars and bothering his sister.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>209</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-8681969934405650961</id><published>2011-05-10T09:42:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-10T10:16:56.056-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Stay-At-Home-Mom Envy? Read This....</title><content type='html'>I know you are out there. People who look at my charmed life and wish they too could have it. My life of leisure. Not having to answer to a "boss", make deadlines, manage inept employees. Do what I want to do when I want to do it. Cook and clean, workout and spend quality days with my children. Raising them in the way I want them to be raised, not by caretakers. I don't mean this to be snotty...I mean it in that THE GRASS IS ALWAYS GREENER.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me give you a run down of my day so far...and it is only 9:30am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 6:30am, my husband woke me up so I could let him out the sliding glass door, as to not wake up the beast that sleeps above the garage. This was an attempt at letting me get a few moments to myself for the day. Usually, I get up with him and then start my day, but today I don't have to really be anywhere until the afternoon, so I get to "sleep in." Yeah, not so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6:45am, one of the beasts got in bed with me, a few moments later another emerges out of her room, bright eyed and bushy tailed, bed made, asking a million questions in a matter of minutes. Groggily I tell her to get her DS. Other beast jumps on that band wagon and instantly there is bickering about who gets the first 8 minutes. Ahh, so much for that alone time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7am-8am Bickering, yelling at the dog, a little bit of laughter sprinkled in. This is the best part of my day, as it is a rarity that I can watch any adult TV while the kids are awake. By adult, I mean The Today Show, the news, the weather.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8-9am Kids watching a show, eating breakfast, it's actually not so bad. Little arguing. I have no idea what I did in this hour. Perhaps I was checking my email, looking at the calendar, starting laundry, getting paper/toys out of the dog's mouth, fast forwarding through commercials, eating cold toast and lukewarm coffee, unloading dishwasher from night before, refilling cereal bowls, more milk. Yeah, I just laid around. It is a life of leisure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9-9:15am. This is where it goes south. Because Jimmy wants to get a rise out of his sister, he grabs the remote and changes the channel. Screaming ensues from the dramatic one, fists are drawn and connected with flesh. AHh, the sweet sound of my lovely boy screaming. So, sweet...like nails on a chalkboard, oh wait, they don't have those anymore. I come in to break up fight from the laundry room, since I am TRYING to sort the massive pile of laundry, while the dog keeps running away with random socks and underwear. I turn off the TV, as punishment for fighting. Who's punishment? Mine obviously. Then beast goes into the garage, looking for a specific football. Not the brown one, the green one. Can't find it. SCREAMING....MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM! WHERE IS MY FOOOOOOOOOTBALLLLLLLL? I don't know. I hear stuff falling in the garage. I am trying to sort laundry. MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM! COSMO IS IN THE GARAGE! MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM, HE'S BY THE NOVA! MOOOOOOOOOOOM! Angel child then yells "TREAT" and he runs inside. He is rewarded with a bone, which he proceeds to chew up and spit out on the carpet and then eat it. The beast then thinks the green football must be outside. He opens the doorwall and walks outside. Dog sees this as his chance at freedom, because beast never shuts the doors behind him. I hear screams from both kids outside now. I come back from the laundry room to see the dog prancing around outside. Side note, we need invisible fence, since the dog is a bolter. I still have my uniform on  (long sleeve T, PJ Pants and glasses). I have to run through the neighbor's yard with a ball that Julia tossed to me to get the dog to come back. It would be perfect timing to have people pull up to look at the house that is for sale behind us. But they don't. Dog is caught thanks to a ball and the angel yelling TREAT. I walk inside and notice that in the 10 minutes since the TV has been off and I have been trying to sort laundry, that the living room is now trashed with pillows and blankets in an effort to make a fort or just irritate me. I tell the kids to go to the basement or go upstairs, I just want one floor that is not trashed. Beast says I don't like him. Kids go downstairs. I continue to sort laundry. Then beast is screaming....MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM! JUUUUUUUUUUUUUULIA wants MEEE to BEEEEE a Kid an I don't WANNNNA be a Kid. I calmly asked him if he wanted to be a baby instead, because that's what he sounded like. He said NOOO and then ran back downstairs. Whining instantly stopped. Then it's calm. I go back to sorting my laundry and wonder to myself....why does it take me so $%# long to get laundry going? Oh, I know. Because I am lucky enough to be a stay at home mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aren't you glad to be sitting at your desk, hanging out on the internet, reading blogs, getting paid, while your house is exactly as you left it? Just sayin'. Gotta move, still have laundry to sort.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-8681969934405650961?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/8681969934405650961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=8681969934405650961' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/8681969934405650961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/8681969934405650961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2011/05/stay-at-home-mom-envy-read-this.html' title='Stay-At-Home-Mom Envy? Read This....'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-8733030674455758215</id><published>2011-05-08T22:38:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-05-08T22:54:00.202-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Circumstancial Friends</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I always find things strange this time of year, as the kid's classes and activities start to come to a close. All year long, I am busy taking the kids from this activity or to school or whatever. Along the way, you meet different people and some become friends of circumstance. It's funny, I see many of these people more than I see my own extended family and you chat for the hour while you are waiting for the kids to finish up skating or get out of class. The kids become friends and as a result the moms often do too. But as the activities and classes come to a close, often those mommy friendships do too. Not always, but more often than not. While I have kept in contact with a small group of these ladies, there are so many that I haven't. It isn't like I am depressed about it, but now that I have been in the mommy circuit for a few years....I know that it is inevitable. Although on the flip side, these moms always pop up somewhere down the road...or on Facebook and then you can pick right back up where you left off.&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/2282864000533678487-8733030674455758215?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/8733030674455758215/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=8733030674455758215' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/8733030674455758215'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/8733030674455758215'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2011/05/circumstancial-friends.html' title='Circumstancial Friends'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-4461281984103559065</id><published>2011-03-13T21:55:00.017-04:00</published><updated>2011-03-14T00:20:23.517-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Kate'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mom Prom'/><title type='text'>Mommy's Famous!</title><content type='html'>Well, maybe not F A M O U S, but probably as famous as a girl is gonna get in a normal lifetime. I will take it. But let's get down to the story, because frankly if I don't record it, i am going to forget how it all went down...now that I am getting older.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, 5 years ago, my friend Betsy thought it would be fun to get all dressed up in old prom dresses, go to dinner at Buca di Bepo and go dancing afterwards. Considering I didn't have any of my old prom dresses, I was able to squeeze into a dress I wore in my friend's wedding 8 years prior. Not bad for being 4 months pregnant. Thanks to Spanx. Sorry for squishing you Jimmy. Anyway, here is our little "prom" photo. I bestowed the Queen title on myself to disguise my baby bump. Although Betsy was the actual "Queen."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-V9GE_lp21ac/TX16MrkvxoI/AAAAAAAABWU/VThetT1JAXc/s1600/May%2B2006%2B015.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-V9GE_lp21ac/TX16MrkvxoI/AAAAAAAABWU/VThetT1JAXc/s400/May%2B2006%2B015.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583753471283152514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bfVCbYVmwFA/TX15Eee-3-I/AAAAAAAABV8/LwF54glEQoA/s1600/22511%2B%25289%2529.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Anyway, what followed were 4 more proms held at church, raising money for various charities and families in our parish. Fun times with a DJ, lots of friends and dancing. Did I mention that we also always went to dinner beforehand? Dressed up? We were having fun times. One year there was an article in the paper about our prom, a news station did a little video one year . Last year prior to the prom, a few of us dressed up on a Sunday morning and had us a little interview at Fox 2. It wasn't much, considering it was on at 8am. Then this year, Betsy contacted the AP. A few of us met with a reporter before the prom, thinking no big deal. Gretchen &amp;amp; I threw the kids in the nursery, putting the 6 year olds in charge and spoke with the reporter. He mostly wanted to chat with Betsy, we were just there since we have been to most of the proms and we were available. We all kind of laughed...It will be a slow news day if papers pick this up on a Tuesday. He said he'd come to the prom with a camera guy and take some pictures and video to go along with his article. Big deal. Gretchen &amp;amp; I didn't seem to be too wild about seeking him out to say "Hi" and get our pictures taken. Although plenty of other girls were all too happy to seek out the camera (if you know what I mean).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bfVCbYVmwFA/TX15Eee-3-I/AAAAAAAABV8/LwF54glEQoA/s1600/22511%2B%25289%2529.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bfVCbYVmwFA/TX15Eee-3-I/AAAAAAAABV8/LwF54glEQoA/s400/22511%2B%25289%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583752230818734050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NKZLGwbvxf8/TX13q6aThMI/AAAAAAAABVM/mWdufYCwzjo/s1600/22511%2B%25282%2529.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NKZLGwbvxf8/TX13q6aThMI/AAAAAAAABVM/mWdufYCwzjo/s400/22511%2B%25282%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583750692127081666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Kristen (looking fab), Kate (sporting Ebay fashions), Gretchen (wearing a dress from 1990), Monica (wearing a dress her sister wore in a wedding in the 90s) and Kirste (also looking fab but with giant disco hoops).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ObAXW3ovKcA/TX13qoJbK5I/AAAAAAAABVE/EKuyHXLyejo/s1600/22511%2B%25285%2529.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ObAXW3ovKcA/TX13qoJbK5I/AAAAAAAABVE/EKuyHXLyejo/s400/22511%2B%25285%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583750687224441746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Kate posing with our NEW man, Antonio...don't I look like I could be his Spanish Lover?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a great time dancing and raising money. Clean up went quickly. On to 2012. Not so much. Remember that little interview we did? That following Tuesday, must have been a slow news day. Charlie Sheen and his Goddesses, the unrest in the Middle East/North Africa, gas prices, potholes weren't enough for the world. They needed MOM PROM. Early in the morning, I got a note from my cousin that I was in the NY Times. What the heck? It was picked up by pretty much every major newspaper in the US and all over the world. It was nuts. &lt;a href="http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20110301/ap_on_re_us/us_mom_prom_2"&gt;This article&lt;/a&gt; became more popular on Yahoo than Charlie Sheen for a little bit. Really? I was having fun with my fame and our friends and family were having fun giving me a hard time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, but it ALL got better. Betsy was contacted by the Gayle King Show (Oprah's BFF). She did a Skype interview with her. Then the Early Show and Good Morning America contacted her. GMA wanted to do a pretty in depth piece on it and wanted to come to film us the following Saturday. So, we trudged on to church with our prom gowns in hand for our 15 minutes of fame. GMA sent anchorwoman, JuJu Chang to interview us. She couldn't have been more personable and genuine. Really. Not at all what I expected. She could have been one of us. Well, she was for 5 hours. They were taking shots of us in our "street clothes" spinning around and then once we were dressed in our dresses, we did the same thing (so we'd be like Wonder Woman, spinning into our dresses). Some of the girls had dresses that had a real story to them, which was cool. I was wearing the dress I paid $20 for on Ebay, but I was rocking a banana clip and jewelry from the 90s, paired with black lace fingerless gloves. They had us group together and say "We're the Moms from the Mom Prom...Good Morning America!" We also walked down the runway in our gowns for various shots. The HHT Foundation was in vast numbers too, lots of supporters and kids. It was fun. The producer and camera guy were great to work with. They made it fun  for us and I think they had fun too. In fact, at one point, the producer  told us that she was originally from the area and that she felt great  about doing a piece on something good for a change.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yPYGRa-IhZA/TX2DKhNnhYI/AAAAAAAABWc/GikaOxeTlBg/s1600/30511%2B%25282%2529.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yPYGRa-IhZA/TX2DKhNnhYI/AAAAAAAABWc/GikaOxeTlBg/s400/30511%2B%25282%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583763329746699650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Juju &amp;amp; Me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D47yRlDr9yw/TX2Dz2ZSnbI/AAAAAAAABWk/LGqpQoXBO-U/s1600/30511%2B%25287%2529.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-D47yRlDr9yw/TX2Dz2ZSnbI/AAAAAAAABWk/LGqpQoXBO-U/s400/30511%2B%25287%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583764039807442354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Betsy, Father Pat  &amp;amp; Juju&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XeVHgSiFBvs/TX2D0fphhfI/AAAAAAAABWs/OdNWGT0EA5c/s1600/30511%2B%25289%2529.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XeVHgSiFBvs/TX2D0fphhfI/AAAAAAAABWs/OdNWGT0EA5c/s400/30511%2B%25289%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583764050881381874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Betsy strutting her stuff on the runway&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-J2eOZMiGmdE/TX13Hq7eKTI/AAAAAAAABUs/W5ZXNLab7hw/s1600/30511%2B%252828%2529.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-J2eOZMiGmdE/TX13Hq7eKTI/AAAAAAAABUs/W5ZXNLab7hw/s400/30511%2B%252828%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583750086675802418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sNp19MNN7oM/TX14Lz72iBI/AAAAAAAABVs/xz7OZYIUPZY/s1600/30511%2B%25288%2529.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-sNp19MNN7oM/TX14Lz72iBI/AAAAAAAABVs/xz7OZYIUPZY/s400/30511%2B%25288%2529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5583751257324423186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I missed a  birthday party for the kids of our dear friends for the taping, but it was worth it to do something like that. Really, when would I ever have the chance to be part of something like that. See how those things work. Later that night, Kurt and I were in bed watching SNL. After all of the hoopla of the week's events, I thought, they aren't going to do a sketch about it. It's not that big of a deal. Then &lt;a href="http://www.nbc.com/saturday-night-live/video/weekend-update-favorites-march-5-2011/1311348"&gt;Weekend Update&lt;/a&gt; came on. I about fell out of bed when I saw the bit about Mom Prom. In fact, I screamed and it woke up Jimmy. That Seth Meyers is a real funny guy. Really, Seth? The guy laying next to me doesn't seem to have a problem with it. REALLY?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Monday, the Early Show filmed a small group of us at Betsy's making tissue flowers and talking about our plans for the 2012 prom. It wasn't as elaborate as the GMA piece, but it sounded like they were going to incorporate this interview in with Betsy's sister's prom they are planning in April. Afterwards we had a short phone interview with the GMA producer to wrap things up for Thursday's airing of the piece. While I wouldn't say that i have a problem communicating (I don't), I probably have more of a problem with polished speech. I get easily flustered trying to make a point when I am asked a question that I don't have a canned answer to. Now, I never had a real problem when I interviewed for jobs or when I need to chat to a group of people. But put a microphone in my face and I sound like a midwestern valley girl. Too many Likes and Ya Knows. I laughed afterward, thinking back to a time in 1991 after a cheerleading competition and the presenter asked me a question and I said something so idiotic that my girlfriends STILL pick on me about it 20 years later. Ask them about elemen-TARRY children. I am sure Cas has it on a tape somewhere along with me breaking my ankle. Anyway, I came home and felt sick to my stomach, praying that they didn't use the footage of what I said. Not only did I sound bad, I am sure that me pretending Gretchen was Juju Chang didn't help matters. Well, prayer works people...because they didn't use it. They did use what I said in an article on ABCs website. Unfortunately, Betsy was credited with my "Katy" speak of:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"You always need girlfriends in your life," Crapps said.  "Kind of like  in high school you depended on your friends, but I don't think you  really realized in high school how much you would need really close  girlfriends … as you age, you almost need them more."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;Now if Betsy really said that, she would have said "as we get older" because it sounds better and she has great poise when she's on the spot. Nope. Not me. I need to say something un-eloquent. Sorry Betsy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, Thursday morning rolled around and I really had kind of a big pit in my stomach. Not only anticipating me saying something dumb, but what was I thinking? I strutted my stuff in a super ugly dress (that even in 1990 I would not have worn, I was much more classy) with my hair piled on the side in a banana clip and black fingerless gloves. Seriously, this is national TV. I have no shame when it comes to being silly in front of my girlfriends and their friends, but this is GMA! People will be judging. People will see this and think we are wackos. How will they spin the piece? At one point, it sounded like they were taking it in the direction that we moms wanted to feel pretty and dress up for a night out. Which, sort of yes, but do you really feel pretty prancing around in a dress that is 25 years old and doesn't fit right with hair and makeup that is not from this century? It was more about the charity of it all and "putting our gowns to good use." But what was done was done. I had to just go with it. When the &lt;a href="http://abcnews.go.com/GMA/video/mom-proms-reliving-high-school-charity-13103401"&gt;segment &lt;/a&gt;came on, the kids got so excited. When they saw me for the first time, they both shrieked. Jimmy jumped up and down and said, "You are famous, Mommy! There you are!" as he was hanging on to me. So sweet. He really thought that it was a big deal. For the past week and a half, I had been going to Mom Prom interviews, decorating, the actual prom, the taping and the other interview. They both probably think that Mom Prom is normal. They both think that prom is MOM PROM not for high school kids. That is the best. Anyway, the piece was great, they really captured the story so well. Betsy asked me to bring pictures of our past proms, so I gave them about 80 pictures, along with a few from my actual proms. I saw MY pictures pop up on screen from proms past. It was great! But then I saw my little 17 year old self popping up around the map of the US marking spots where Mom Proms are being planned for 2011. I about choked. That periwinkle mermaid style was the bomb....19 years ago. They photoshopped out my date, but there I was in my prom pose. The segment was great! I hope that people watched it and really thought of this as a great way to raise money for causes that mean alot to them. I hope that this becomes something moms do for fun, because it IS fun! I felt proud to fly my freaky flag in the name of charity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it has been a crazy 2 weeks. Who would have thought that we'd get all this publicity? I have had fun with it, making sure to mention here and there to Kurt, that I am famous. Or when I can't do something around the house, that i haven't had time, because I am famous. When the dog barks, is it the paparazzi? It's all in fun. I know that I am still just a mom &amp;amp; wife like everyone else. I really DO NOT think i am famous. I don't expect people to stop me in Meijer. But I am sure that many saw the story and enjoyed the lightheartedness of  it and goodness that it represented. There is so many sad and heavy  things going on in our world...this lightened things up a bit for 3  minutes. It is great to see something positive in the media about the Catholic Church for a change. Betsy really has done a lot to make this event great and she works hard to get the word out on this. She is the one that deserves all the kudos, i am just a worker bee.  But I have had fun going along the ride with her. I am kind of glad that it all has died down though. If i felt like it was starting to get to be too much, i can only imagine how she was feeling. We have worked our 15 minutes like no other. I think I can safely take my cotton candy pink and black lace dress to the dry cleaner now. Maybe I should list it on EBAY...as seen on TV!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-4461281984103559065?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/4461281984103559065/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=4461281984103559065' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/4461281984103559065'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/4461281984103559065'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2011/03/mommys-famous.html' title='Mommy&apos;s Famous!'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-V9GE_lp21ac/TX16MrkvxoI/AAAAAAAABWU/VThetT1JAXc/s72-c/May%2B2006%2B015.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-7410544166087199528</id><published>2010-08-23T08:07:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-23T08:47:47.710-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer...Hello...Goodbye!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ahh&lt;/span&gt;, Summer, you loom so far away as we anticipate your arrival all those cold, dreary winter months. Then you are here. The first few weeks we can't believe it. Unsure of what to do with all of our free time. No school, no real activities, no true schedule. Then swimming starts, then Vacation Bible School Starts. There are &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Tball&lt;/span&gt; games, Kurt's softball games, Tiger Baseball. Day camp at Jimmy's new &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;pre&lt;/span&gt;-school and a few random &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;playdates&lt;/span&gt;. Trips to Jackson, Lake Michigan, Aunt Fran's Cottage in Canada, visit from Christina &amp;amp; Meghan (and the news that they are MOVING BACK NEXT SUMMER). Summer Reading program at the library, splash park trips, time at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;KidsKorner&lt;/span&gt; at the gym while mom &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;works out&lt;/span&gt; and then swimming in the pool with the huge groups that are bussed in from the day camps (thank you lifeguards for a relaxing few hours). Jimmy's new &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;bunk bed&lt;/span&gt; and Julia sleeping on the top bunk for a "sleepover." Playing in the backyard and garage for hours with Clay and Kyle using lots of imagination. Malibu Barbie/Ken style tans (even though SPF30 and 50 were used) on our olive skinned babies. Days so hot that going outside was too much effort. Hours spent playing in the basement only to have to spend hours cleaning it up from the unconfirmed tornado that clearly took place. Picking up our crate of vegetables/fruit from the farm &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;CSA&lt;/span&gt; on Mondays, never sure what we're going to get. Grocery shopping with 2 kids and managing only to forget a few things each trip. Taking a break from facebook and incessant computer use, remember what it was like before the laptop and social networking took my life over. Reading more than 10 books and countless magazines. Then the nights start to get cooler and we are reminded that it is coming to an end. Excitement for the school year. Kindergarten &amp;amp; Preschool for both babies. Where has the time gone? Not only the summer, but the past 5 years? No time to cry, no time to think. Onward to Fall 2010. Ballet/Tap, Daisy Scouts, Children's Liturgy, Ice Skating Lessons, Library &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Storytime&lt;/span&gt;. New friends to be made. New things to be learned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But for like 2 weeks more, I am going to soak up every little last part of this snapshot in my life. Summer 2010. Thankful for everything I have. Thankful for my husband working hard, so I can work hard here and be with the kids.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-7410544166087199528?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/7410544166087199528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=7410544166087199528' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/7410544166087199528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/7410544166087199528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2010/08/summerhellogoodbye.html' title='Summer...Hello...Goodbye!'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-4478956035543987102</id><published>2010-08-23T07:52:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-23T08:05:06.838-04:00</updated><title type='text'>T-Ball</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/THJiCE3NuOI/AAAAAAAABTs/G6E0SNQFHsw/s1600/80710+%286%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/THJiCE3NuOI/AAAAAAAABTs/G6E0SNQFHsw/s400/80710+%286%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508573082032126178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;c&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/THJiBjz9SEI/AAAAAAAABTk/RgSRE5EX-Oo/s1600/80710+%287%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/THJiBjz9SEI/AAAAAAAABTk/RgSRE5EX-Oo/s400/80710+%287%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508573073160095810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/THJiBL7EuKI/AAAAAAAABTc/oeLLcy3Y1sg/s1600/80710+%2824%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/THJiBL7EuKI/AAAAAAAABTc/oeLLcy3Y1sg/s400/80710+%2824%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508573066747492514" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/THJiAteoVcI/AAAAAAAABTU/OsAZhxX-eio/s1600/61910+%2820%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/THJiAteoVcI/AAAAAAAABTU/OsAZhxX-eio/s400/61910+%2820%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508573058575128002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/THJh_WQQ2yI/AAAAAAAABTM/vDgRep4kRU8/s1600/80710.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/THJh_WQQ2yI/AAAAAAAABTM/vDgRep4kRU8/s400/80710.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508573035160984354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This summer, the kids played T-ball with the church's league. One of the benefits to having a large parish is that they are able to offer stuff like this for kids. There are 4 teams from our church and bright and early on Saturday mornings at 9am, we all gather to watch the kids learn the game. It's perfect for 5-7 year &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;olds&lt;/span&gt;. They play 3 innings, only advance one base and there are no outs. It gives them a feel for the game. The last inning, is coach pitch and I have to say that some of the kids as 5 year &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;olds&lt;/span&gt; were ready to say goodbye to the Tee. Kurt was one of the coaches (much better than his soccer coach experience) along with a few other dads. The kids loved seeing each other and the kids from the others teams were often friends made at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;VBS&lt;/span&gt; and at Kurt's softball games. I loved seeing the smiles on the kids faces when they were running to a base. I am pretty certain that if our kids didn't show any interest in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Tball&lt;/span&gt;, Kurt's heart may have broken just a little. Not to disappoint, both kids showed intensity (fitting of a 3 and 5 year old) and skill that made us proud. Thank God they have Aunt Lib's genes and not mine when it comes to the game.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-4478956035543987102?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/4478956035543987102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=4478956035543987102' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/4478956035543987102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/4478956035543987102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2010/08/t-ball.html' title='T-Ball'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/THJiCE3NuOI/AAAAAAAABTs/G6E0SNQFHsw/s72-c/80710+%286%29.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-827378971514663291</id><published>2010-08-23T07:18:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-08-23T07:51:57.161-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodbye Long Hair!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/THJennVbbtI/AAAAAAAABTE/b_9m4ND85MI/s1600/002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/THJennVbbtI/AAAAAAAABTE/b_9m4ND85MI/s400/002.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508569328894308050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/THJem77R9SI/AAAAAAAABS8/HJqvGOQ5FlY/s1600/003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/THJem77R9SI/AAAAAAAABS8/HJqvGOQ5FlY/s400/003.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5508569317241910562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Out of the blue a week or 2 ago, Julia said that she wanted her hair cut to her shoulders. I thought that it was kind of odd, because she always has wanted her hair "to her butt." But she kept talking about it for a few days and I kept asking her if she really wanted to get it cut shorter. She didn't waiver. She actually told me at one point that "If I don't like it, it will grow back." Such a grown up, right? So, last Tuesday she had enough hair cut off (7-8inches) that she was able to donate it too. She felt pretty good about it and I was proud of her for taking the plunge with a new hairstyle. And the kicker....THERE WERE NO TEARS. I have to say that often when I change my hairstyle drastically, there ARE tears at some point, and I'm an adult. To those who remember my super short hairstyle of 1999....what the heck? It was cute for like a minute. Anyway, she's loving wearing her hair down and not in braids for a change. What gets me is how much it changes her face and makes her look like a big girl. She definitely isn't a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;pre&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;schooler&lt;/span&gt; anymore, for sure ready for kindergarten!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-827378971514663291?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/827378971514663291/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=827378971514663291' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/827378971514663291'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/827378971514663291'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2010/08/goodbye-long-hair.html' title='Goodbye Long Hair!'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/THJennVbbtI/AAAAAAAABTE/b_9m4ND85MI/s72-c/002.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-1506000754785978826</id><published>2010-06-23T10:04:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-23T10:22:34.346-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Writing is on the Wall</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/TCIUuw_bHaI/AAAAAAAABSc/k6ANuatmMBk/s1600/61010+%284%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/TCIUuw_bHaI/AAAAAAAABSc/k6ANuatmMBk/s400/61010+%284%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5485970089748143522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jimmy has been giving us a run for our money lately. The addage that boys are different than girls could not be more true. I actually threw up my hands yesterday and kind of gave up. Discipline tactics that have worked with Julia and that work with many other kids haven't really worked with him lately. Our biggest struggle is dinner. Quite frankly, Kurt and I think it really is the worst time of the day. Kurt's perfect day is coming home at 6:30 to kids who have already ate and he can eat his dinner in peace. Last night was a particularly heated battle of me trying to get Jimmy to eat his green beans. The night before we had these really good Snap Peas that were in our CSA box. I knew that the kids would balk at them, since they haven't ever ate them before. But they both like peas alone and they both like to dip stuff in ranch. Anyway, Julia ate them after turning up her nose at first, but figured if she stacked them with her chicken, they were okay. Whatever method it takes. Jimmy on the other hand refused and yelled and stopped eating. He said he wanted green beans instead. Well, last night was your lucky day, because I made green beans. Do you think he wanted to eat them? No way! Even with butter and salt and pepper? No way! Battle Royale ensued for the proceeding 45 minutes. Which is the normal length of time for a meal at our home when the kids are involved. I seriously couldn't take it anymore. The threats of "nothing else for the rest of the night" and "you will get to watch your sister eat her dessert" (which is what happened the night before) did not work. He decided that he'd rather starve. I knew he was still hungry. The solution of reserving the same green beans the next meal sounds like a great idea, but someone has to sit there and implement it and right now I don't have the patience. AHHH...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, getting back to the the point of my little blog this morning...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took the kids to the basement to play this morning and I saw a little pencil drawing on the wall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:          Jimmy, did you do this?&lt;br /&gt;Jimmy:    Yes! It says "Don't feed me vegetables!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only 6 more long months until the magical age of 4. 3 is not the best. Next time someone tells me how happy and good natured he is, I will refer him to this blog post.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-1506000754785978826?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/1506000754785978826/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=1506000754785978826' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/1506000754785978826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/1506000754785978826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2010/06/writing-is-on-wall.html' title='The Writing is on the Wall'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/TCIUuw_bHaI/AAAAAAAABSc/k6ANuatmMBk/s72-c/61010+%284%29.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-4644401649513917225</id><published>2010-05-11T13:07:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2010-05-11T13:37:04.819-04:00</updated><title type='text'>DIVA!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S-mUUzZZDmI/AAAAAAAABSQ/MLmOvLVIwBQ/s1600/50910+(6).JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470066307533180514" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S-mUUzZZDmI/AAAAAAAABSQ/MLmOvLVIwBQ/s400/50910+(6).JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Julia had her dance recital last weekend and was she ever in her element! Last year, she was a little nervous in the days leading up to the performance, but this year was a completely different story. She couldn't stop talking about it and was pretty excited that she got to do 2 nights of the show vs just one like she did last year. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;In her ballet number she was a fairy and her tap number she was a painter. Both nights she did fantastic, smiled the entire time and didn't look to the side the whole time to see what her partners were doing. I &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;couldn't&lt;/span&gt; have been more proud of her. Kurt of course loves to mock me when I cry in public and this time was no different. I can't help it. She is just such a light in my life and I can't help but be so proud of her that I cry. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When she would exit the stage, she'd look to the side and smile. It really showed her personality. Of course, I think she's a little diva (in a good way) and i think that others could see that too. What a ham! The finale was the part she was most looking forward to and you couldn't help but love the smile on her face that just looked like she was about to laugh. I am pretty sure that the stage is her home!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S-mP-Yv5VeI/AAAAAAAABSI/s1XSgoPHaPs/s1600/50810+(2).JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470061524376180194" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S-mP-Yv5VeI/AAAAAAAABSI/s1XSgoPHaPs/s400/50810+(2).JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S-mP9zpnrjI/AAAAAAAABSA/EWmgT_Ytb9g/s1600/50810+(9).JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470061514417745458" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S-mP9zpnrjI/AAAAAAAABSA/EWmgT_Ytb9g/s400/50810+(9).JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S-mP9hWOusI/AAAAAAAABR4/RF9y9Ca8L-U/s1600/50810+(11).JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470061509504580290" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S-mP9hWOusI/AAAAAAAABR4/RF9y9Ca8L-U/s400/50810+(11).JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S-mP9QKF3GI/AAAAAAAABRw/jf1YoFGJJLQ/s1600/50810+(12).JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470061504890264674" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S-mP9QKF3GI/AAAAAAAABRw/jf1YoFGJJLQ/s400/50810+(12).JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S-mP8_7HbPI/AAAAAAAABRo/aGy1L1ucXJc/s1600/50810+(13).JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5470061500532485362" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S-mP8_7HbPI/AAAAAAAABRo/aGy1L1ucXJc/s400/50810+(13).JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anytime you'd like a performance, feel free to come by the house and Julia will show you her moves and challenge you to a game of Just Dance on the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Wii&lt;/span&gt; or she'll just break it out listening to the radio (yesterday she asked me to turn it up to an old school Jay Z song). The girl's got &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;rhythm&lt;/span&gt; and loves to dance, making us all smile at the same time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-4644401649513917225?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/4644401649513917225/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=4644401649513917225' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/4644401649513917225'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/4644401649513917225'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2010/05/diva.html' title='DIVA!'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S-mUUzZZDmI/AAAAAAAABSQ/MLmOvLVIwBQ/s72-c/50910+(6).JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-4535958041758935503</id><published>2010-04-25T23:15:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-25T23:44:20.704-04:00</updated><title type='text'>She's Growing Up!</title><content type='html'>Today we skipped Sunday School for Julia at the 10am Mass and went to the noon mass so we could see our 2 neighbor girls take their First Holy Communion. Julia usually goes to Sunday School while we are in mass. It's been a long time since she's actually sat in church for the whole time. Jimmy was in the nursery (we're not that brave). Anyway...I was so impressed with how grown up she has become. She was pretty excited to see her 2 older friends, but she really took an interest in what was happening and participated as much as she knew to. I was just taken aback.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was raised in a Baptist Church where the kids only stayed in church for the first 15 minutes or so and then were released to Jr. Church or were already in the nursery. Anyway, I never quite understood why kids needed to be in Mass. There were times when Kurt and I would attempt to take  both kids to Mass (on days when the Nursery was closed) and left feeling drained and wondering why we even left the house. There are cry rooms, but usually they are a free for all with parents not even trying to keep their kids contained. Anyway...we have always put the kids in the nursery and Sunday School. I knew that Julia would be ready to sit through the Mass quietly, but not actually pay attention. Don't get me wrong. She's gone to Mass before. She's been good before. But she never seemed to pay attention. It just made me realize how grown up she was. I'll admit, I got a little teary eyed thinking just yesterday Kurt and I were bringing her to Mass with us in her little carrier and in a few years she will be standing up there preparing for her First Holy Communion. I am not ready for that. Let's get to Kindergarten first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of school...we couldn't be more proud of how well Julia is doing in school. Doing the Young 5s program was the best decision we could have made for her. She is thriving. She's reading and doing math. In fact, last week I thought I was going to pass out when I saw the amount of homework they had. It took us a long time, but she is a smart cookie. She figures things out and amazes me. I am a little concerned about next year being kind of a repeat of this year, but I am hoping that the distraction of a new school, riding the bus, extra curriculars and all the goings on at an Elementary school will be enough of a change for her that it all doesn't seem like the same thing. She doesn't have to be the smartest kid in class (I know that there are lots of over achiever parents that think academics are the only thing), but I hope this extra year gives her that boost of confidence and maturity so she will be able to handle all the challenges life throws at kids as they go through school. Really...who wants to be the youngest and smallest kid in class? We really should have planned better with these November babies.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-4535958041758935503?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/4535958041758935503/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=4535958041758935503' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/4535958041758935503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/4535958041758935503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2010/04/shes-growing-up.html' title='She&apos;s Growing Up!'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-6903474532980460892</id><published>2010-03-23T13:41:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-23T14:27:59.476-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Commercials</title><content type='html'>Kids are funny with what they pick up from TV. Mine are no exception. They watch mostly PBS and Disney Channel or some DVDs from the library. I never have the TV on during the day for me. Not because I am that granola...but because I seriously don't have time to watch it. It's not part of my routine, which isn't a bad thing. I joke with Kurt that unless it pops up on the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;MSN&lt;/span&gt; home page or people are chatting about it on &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;facebook&lt;/span&gt;, I really don't know what is going on in the world until 10 or 11pm at night when we watch the news. Occasionally before dinner I will turn on the news, but usually that is if the kids are playing somewhere else. So, they do see and watch regular TV on occasion. Which would explain a few things. Yesterday while I was unloading the dishwasher, Jimmy came over to me and asked me "Do you have credit card debt?" I had to ask him to repeat it, because I thought that can't be what he said. He did. I laughed and said no, but asked him what if we did, are we supposed to do something? He then went on about some 3year old &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;gibberish&lt;/span&gt; nonsense. Then today he asked me why I didn't use &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Oxy&lt;/span&gt; Clean Max. Apparently he is worried that the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Oxy&lt;/span&gt; Clean that we use needs a little boost. Julia told me the other day when I was doing laundry that they have these great balls for the dryer that are good for months and you get 2 when you order now. Both kids can also tell you all of the uses for Pillow Pets (you can take it to Grandma's with your &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;PJs&lt;/span&gt; inside). &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;WTF&lt;/span&gt;???? It's like marketers can't get it right. I can't tell you verbatim about all of these products, but a 3 and 5 year old can. Perhaps all products are marketed to them so they can market to their parents? Anyway, as annoying as it is, I think it is cute in a sick way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-6903474532980460892?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/6903474532980460892/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=6903474532980460892' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/6903474532980460892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/6903474532980460892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2010/03/commercials.html' title='Commercials'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-6376190718205037352</id><published>2010-03-15T23:35:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-03-15T23:56:54.273-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Seriously?</title><content type='html'>Julia wears a uniform to school everyday and about once a month gets to wear jeans to school and a plain black shirt. She has gotten used to wearing a "boring" uniform and doesn't complain about it too much. She isn't a fan of wearing the turtlenecks and begs me to let her wear short sleeve shirts with a sweater over them. The school year has gone well and it does make getting dressed easier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow they are having some pictures taken at school and Julia can wear what she wants to. I thought that she would be so excited to pick out an outfit. Ugh, what happened next can only be described as my worst nightmare and a glimpse at the teen years. I pulled out a few outfits. All of them were pink. All of them had some girly girl flair. All of them were spring-ish. She wanted to wear her Easter dress. Normally I would probably not care, but this dress is dryclean only and isn't something that you could be crawling around a gym floor with (since she has gym tomorrow). I explained this. Tears ensued. Then she started to find fault in all of the outfits we picked out. One of them was scratchy, one of them she already wore in front of people and the other one had a side zipper and she was worried that it would show in the picture? I did yell. I did lose it. I seriously couldn't believe it. She was all upset. After realizing that this was going nowhere...I calmed down and showed her how all 3 were great options. Jimmy came in and gave his 2 cents and Kurt came in and tried to save the day. He got further than I did. Then Grandma called and Julia described each of the outfits (in detail) to her. Grandma will be coming over in the morning to help her. She calmed down. WTH? If this is what I have to look forward to, forget it. I know that I was a girly girl and I still am, but really? this was a little too much. But now that I can reflect on it a little...this is kind of where uniforms backfire. A way you can show your individuality is through dress. When everyone wears the same, they are all the same. There is a lot of pressure when you have to show who you really are. Maybe she is feeling this pressure? She was really concerned about what all of the other girls were going to be wearing and what if she picked the wrong one. We shall see what tomorrow brings. Hopefully my happy little girl who is just excited to wear pink to school tomorrow and not the tween drama queen I spoke with tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder if this is along the same lines of when I was in kindergarten and missed the bus because I was freaking out about my shoelaces not matching my outfit? My mom likes to tell that story. Hmm...does the apple fall far from the tree?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-6376190718205037352?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/6376190718205037352/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=6376190718205037352' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/6376190718205037352'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/6376190718205037352'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2010/03/seriously.html' title='Seriously?'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-7704631618930419330</id><published>2010-03-04T23:52:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-05T00:05:52.080-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Baby Flash!</title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445008791438277106" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S5COpZyOufI/AAAAAAAABRQ/1QLBnoHY5e0/s400/012.JPG" /&gt;I can't say enough how happy I am that my sister had a baby! It is just so much fun this time around being an Aunt. Last time I was pregnant with Jimmy, Julia wasn't even 2 yet. So I had my hands full. It was hard to "enjoy" Olivia and revel in her baby-ness. This time is so different and I treasure it. I think part of it is because the baby phase is so short...it's gone in an instant. At the time, it seems to creep by. The lack of sleep does that to you. No matter how many times someone will tell a new mom "Enjoy it, they grow so fast!" - you can't comprehend it until you've passed the phase. I remember hearing it over and over again and it irritated me a little. I feel like I blinked and my kids are now 3 and 5. Where did the time go? I am not that crazy where I wish my kids baby little again, but I can pop over to my sister's house and love on this sweet little baby. It really puts things in perspective and warms my heart. I don't think Kurt minds being an Uncle again either. But he's been an Uncle 9 times already from the get-go. He's practically a pro.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S5COp7ncZ_I/AAAAAAAABRY/jVF0vgYesJ0/s1600-h/006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445008800519841778" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S5COp7ncZ_I/AAAAAAAABRY/jVF0vgYesJ0/s400/006.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S5COpAuEvUI/AAAAAAAABRI/yZQQpS0myAw/s1600-h/007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445008784709958978" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S5COpAuEvUI/AAAAAAAABRI/yZQQpS0myAw/s400/007.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/2282864000533678487-7704631618930419330?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/7704631618930419330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=7704631618930419330' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/7704631618930419330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/7704631618930419330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2010/03/baby-flash.html' title='Baby Flash!'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S5COpZyOufI/AAAAAAAABRQ/1QLBnoHY5e0/s72-c/012.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-2207253852122673927</id><published>2010-03-04T23:39:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-04T23:49:50.419-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Shhh...I think he's got it!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S5CNRS0rNpI/AAAAAAAABRA/2DGEQv4T6h0/s1600-h/005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445007277740996242" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S5CNRS0rNpI/AAAAAAAABRA/2DGEQv4T6h0/s400/005.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hate to post this, because well, when you say something out loud, it basically nixes things. But what the heck. We're going for it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Jimmy has been wearing underwear accident free (mostly) everyday!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;To some people (those without kids or those who hate kids) will think that this is stupid to post. But whatever. It is a big deal around here and I am giving myself a great big pat on the back! We're getting braver every day, going places in underwear (while I tote around spare bottoms &amp;amp; socks just in case). It's so exciting! He's becoming a big boy!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-2207253852122673927?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/2207253852122673927/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=2207253852122673927' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/2207253852122673927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/2207253852122673927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2010/03/shhhi-think-hes-got-it.html' title='Shhh...I think he&apos;s got it!'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S5CNRS0rNpI/AAAAAAAABRA/2DGEQv4T6h0/s72-c/005.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-865391521497986340</id><published>2010-02-16T12:08:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-16T12:50:08.534-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I am an Aunt...Again!</title><content type='html'>It seemed like it would never happen...being an Aunt again. The past year and a half has been tough on my sister &amp;amp; her hubby &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Trav&lt;/span&gt;. They suffered 2 miscarriages back to back, which made for a tough first trimester with this pregnancy. We were all on eggshells. Trying to be positive. Knowing that if not for those losses that this pregnancy would not have happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They were due on Feb 22&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt; and to be honest, we were all expecting her to go late again (like she did with Olivia). Not so much the case. I got a call around 4pm that she was going to the hospital after her doctor appointment that afternoon....TO HAVE A BABY. I waited for Kurt to get home, ate dinner and packed a bag and headed out to the hospital about an hour away. I got there around 8:30 or so and we hung out, watched some of the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Olympics&lt;/span&gt;, talked about the random stuff. Not focusing on the task at hand. Around midnight things started to pick up, she got an epidural, started to push 2 1/2 hours later and after about 15 min of pushing, Fletcher was born!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was there in the thick of it. I was actually a little &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;apprehensive&lt;/span&gt; about the birth. Last time, I was pregnant myself and Lib had a hard time. I didn't want to go through that again. She was a trooper this time and did a great job. Made me feel a little inadequate with my odd shaped pelvis and 2 &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;CSections&lt;/span&gt;. But there are no medals or awards given in childbirth. Just get it done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The Happy Family&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S3rR2mbxDUI/AAAAAAAABQ4/23LIzM1uOhQ/s1600-h/010.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438890235963444546" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S3rR2mbxDUI/AAAAAAAABQ4/23LIzM1uOhQ/s400/010.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Grammie&lt;/span&gt; &amp;amp; Fletcher&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S3rR2B0gGeI/AAAAAAAABQw/o5HDQAyoknc/s1600-h/012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438890226135079394" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S3rR2B0gGeI/AAAAAAAABQw/o5HDQAyoknc/s400/012.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Fletcher James&lt;br /&gt;2.16.10&lt;br /&gt;2:52am&lt;br /&gt;7 Pounds, 6 oz.&lt;br /&gt;19.5 Inches long&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S3rR10elteI/AAAAAAAABQo/lK--lvyGgmM/s1600-h/015.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438890222553511394" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S3rR10elteI/AAAAAAAABQo/lK--lvyGgmM/s400/015.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Proud Aunt Kate&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S3rR1eCykFI/AAAAAAAABQg/oMeRuRQTJ7w/s1600-h/021.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438890216531333202" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S3rR1eCykFI/AAAAAAAABQg/oMeRuRQTJ7w/s400/021.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S3rR09R4bdI/AAAAAAAABQY/aAhiFb5BjS8/s1600-h/027.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5438890207736262098" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S3rR09R4bdI/AAAAAAAABQY/aAhiFb5BjS8/s400/027.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Nothing sweeter than a newborn baby in your arms and in your life. Welcome to the family baby Flash. Your Uncle Kurt and cousins can't wait to meet you. I can't wait to love on you a little more. We are so happy God sent you to us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&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/2282864000533678487-865391521497986340?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/865391521497986340/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=865391521497986340' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/865391521497986340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/865391521497986340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2010/02/i-am-auntagain.html' title='I am an Aunt...Again!'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S3rR2mbxDUI/AAAAAAAABQ4/23LIzM1uOhQ/s72-c/010.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-6295420097367579713</id><published>2010-02-12T12:10:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-12T12:42:54.415-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Thoughts for Today.</title><content type='html'>I am full of random thoughts today...so I decided to jot them down here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was picking up the house for the 4th or 5th time this MORNING, thinking to myself, why do I even bother? It occurred to me that is why so many more women have that hunched up back. It's because they are always bending over picking up stuff. Perhaps that is why my waist stays small and my curves are kickin (A nod to Sir Mix A Lot)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I mopped the kitchen floor today. Again, wondering why I bother. But I still like to look at it all shiny and smooth. Will it stay like that for even 8 hours? Doubt it&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437410548827134738" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S3WQFeTNmxI/AAAAAAAABQQ/esoYBNKl4DM/s400/004.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;The kids have 2 new favorite toys. A box from Amazon that delivered me some precious Raspberry Iced Tea Mix (1st ingredient is High Fructose Corn Syrup, so you know that it is good) and a Nike Shoe box. The kids decorated the Amazon Box the other day when we had a snow day and called it their dog cage and insisted they put all of their dog stuffed animals in it. Hey I am cool with that kind of dog, no dog hair. The Nike Box, Kurt made into a Monster Truck Garage for Jimmy. I think they need to get rid of all of their toys and apparently they do too, since after cleaning up the basement the other day, the kids had taken everything so meticulously organized and place it all random in the middle of the room, strewn about. They told me that they had a store and were selling things. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;They should have tasers for little kids. Not to knock them out, but to keep them still for more than 5 minutes. Because maybe...just maybe they will stay still long enough to fall asleep. Hey, I may even taser myself once in a while. Just as an excuse to sit down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I wonder at what point I will ever catch up on all the stuff I have to do around here? I am a list maker, but the lists don't ever get all crossed off. I am going to start to add stuff that I know will get crossed off, like &lt;em&gt;Yell at kids to stop fighting&lt;/em&gt; or &lt;em&gt;Walk downstairs to turn off the TV that was left on.&lt;/em&gt; My personal favorite would be &lt;em&gt;Try to find all of the clothes that Julia was wearing before she changed into costume. &lt;/em&gt;The key to that one is to stop on all 3 floors. Anyway, I think I will feel more productive if I see more stuff crossed off my list.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;And on a positive note, i have a few things that are not negative (because I am a glass half full kind of gal):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;We did the 3 days in a row of underwear thing for like the 4th month in a row trying to see if Jimmy would ever get the hang of it. Well, I am proud to say that in the 3 days, we only had 5 pairs of underwear TOTAL. Not bad my little guy...not bad. The thought of being completely out of diapers/Pull-ups has me sort of delirious. I need to make sure that Kurt visits the doctor in the near future.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;After scolding Julia this morning for waking her brother up at 6:30am...he is now fast asleep for a much needed nap and a much needed break for Mom. I will have to remember to tell her "Thanks, for not listening to mom...for once it was actually a good thing."&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;I am glad that I am able to roll with the punches that day to day life as a housewife/SAHM throws at me. I am thankful that my day doesn't go to pot when all of the above happens and I thought that I'd get to go out and run errands before "quiet time." I am just thankful that I have my warm (depends on who you ask, 64 is perfectly warm for me) house and a great husband that pretty much gives me whatever I want and lets me live this little life where the list above are the things that I have to worry about on a Friday afternoon.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-6295420097367579713?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/6295420097367579713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=6295420097367579713' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/6295420097367579713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/6295420097367579713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2010/02/random-thoughts-for-today.html' title='Random Thoughts for Today.'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S3WQFeTNmxI/AAAAAAAABQQ/esoYBNKl4DM/s72-c/004.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-6514807559436202584</id><published>2010-02-04T22:42:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-04T22:51:19.992-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Making Valentines</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uUKDeziHI/AAAAAAAABPo/Wicx84ePzx0/s1600-h/002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434600275806750834" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uUKDeziHI/AAAAAAAABPo/Wicx84ePzx0/s400/002.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uUJv5X0aI/AAAAAAAABPg/xzHRwM61FA8/s1600-h/003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434600270549471650" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uUJv5X0aI/AAAAAAAABPg/xzHRwM61FA8/s400/003.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uUJN0FP5I/AAAAAAAABPY/1Iv_h1CSR1k/s1600-h/005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434600261400477586" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uUJN0FP5I/AAAAAAAABPY/1Iv_h1CSR1k/s400/005.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Valentine's Day is right around the corner and the kids in Julia's class will be exchanging Valentines next Friday. I told her we should just make our own valentines this year, since she loves to draw. Of course we found some pink paper and I scored them to make them into cards. That's all I did to help her make her valentines. I did give her a few stamps that had hearts on them to use, but that's it. She's on her own. She is very creative and would use several "techniques" on each card. A few times she'd do something on a card she really liked and would say, "I'm going to do one like this again!" She warms my creative, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;paper crafting&lt;/span&gt; heart. When I am in my craft room, she likes to come in and set up her own little station. She has her own supplies and "scrapbooks" with me. I love to watch her be creative. Sure, i could make her Valentines for her and make them super cute....but really, would a 5 year old care if they got a fancy valentine? No. I care more that my daughter takes pride in making them herself and will beam with pride when she takes them to school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-6514807559436202584?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/6514807559436202584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=6514807559436202584' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/6514807559436202584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/6514807559436202584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2010/02/making-valentines.html' title='Making Valentines'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uUKDeziHI/AAAAAAAABPo/Wicx84ePzx0/s72-c/002.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-2924668597323074979</id><published>2010-02-04T21:38:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-04T21:46:41.418-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Need Any Cars?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uFbYAO52I/AAAAAAAABPQ/g_BtbZl1XS4/s1600-h/004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434584080699025250" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uFbYAO52I/AAAAAAAABPQ/g_BtbZl1XS4/s400/004.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uFa1I6lLI/AAAAAAAABPI/xNO-01YKFv8/s1600-h/002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434584071340201138" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uFa1I6lLI/AAAAAAAABPI/xNO-01YKFv8/s400/002.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Last week in efforts to direct Jimmy's energy elsewhere, i asked him to put all of his cars on the train table and line them up. I really just wanted to keep him busy, but then I thought it would be a good way to see how many matchbox cars he really did have. Well, as you can see, I don't think he is missing too many.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/2282864000533678487-2924668597323074979?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/2924668597323074979/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=2924668597323074979' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/2924668597323074979'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/2924668597323074979'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2010/02/need-any-cars.html' title='Need Any Cars?'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uFbYAO52I/AAAAAAAABPQ/g_BtbZl1XS4/s72-c/004.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-7655610013553801895</id><published>2010-01-28T07:52:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-28T08:35:35.126-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Chuck E. Cheese...Worst Pizza in the World.</title><content type='html'>Jimmy is 3 years old. He's a boy. He pees and poops in his pants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're happy with our little family, but life would be so great if he'd just get with the program and start using the potty. He essentially got "kicked out" of his little &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;pre&lt;/span&gt;-school session for the 2&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;nd&lt;/span&gt; half of the year since he wasn't potty trained enough to go to school in underwear. Actually, he didn't get kicked out, I just didn't re-enroll him. The thought of sending him 2 days a week to school in underwear, was just like asking for them to call me while I was in the middle of shopping at &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Meijer&lt;/span&gt;. Plus, he wasn't even near ready when I had to make that decision in November. I knew he'd eventually use the potty. I knew that we'd get there and that by Summer, I'd have a somewhat potty trained child. I trusted that this would happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, Jimmy went an entire day dry AND pooped on the potty. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;OMG&lt;/span&gt;! It was such a great day. Now, I'm not going to lie. I had to tell him to use the potty. Although, he told me that he wanted to poop on the potty. And go he did. He was so proud of himself. We kept telling him if he pooped on the potty, that we'd go to Chuck E. Cheese. Well, go we did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jimmy had never been there, but he has seen the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;appropriately&lt;/span&gt; placed commercials on PBS. Julia went once when she was 18 months old. You can tell that we love to take out kids there, since they are now 3 and 5. I'd rather go to &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;McDonald's&lt;/span&gt; and let the kids play in the play area there and not wash their hands before they ate, than go to Chuck E Cheese. I think I hate other people's hyped up kids. I think I hate paying $25 for a meal that quite honestly is the most &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;disgusting&lt;/span&gt; pizza ever. How can Little &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Ceasar's&lt;/span&gt; (which up until yesterday I would have told you was sub-par) make a $5 pizza that is edible, but Chuck E. Cheese can &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;triple&lt;/span&gt; their price and get away with passing what was served in that pan off as pizza? Ugh, but I digress...it's not the pizza we're paying for...it's the experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, let me tell you about our experience. We arrive at 5:45 to a jam packed parking lot. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;WTH&lt;/span&gt;? It's a Wednesday night. I figured there would be a few families looking for something to do with the kiddos after work. Maybe a random mid-week birthday party. Ugh, not so much. Once inside, I see tons of kids. Running around like they are sucking sugar through straws. They are running into people. They are crazed. I see zombie like parents standing in a long line waiting to order pizza and other &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;delectable&lt;/span&gt; treats. Our kids are just taking it all in. Heads going back and forth, jaws to the floor....thinking...."This place is awesome!" I am thinking about how I can see if the kids just want to go to &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;McDonald's&lt;/span&gt;. No way. Kurt &amp;amp; Mom look for a table. There are no available tables. They finally find one that looks somewhat deserted. Kurt gets some tokens and he and the kids are off. Mom sits down dazed. When I asked her to come with us, she choke-laughed, but she came along anyway. While standing in line, I find out that it is a fundraiser for a local elementary school, which accounts for about 90% of the patrons. The pizza is served. It is as gross as I remember. I don't even know where to start. At least they have good Coke. The kids eat their pizza and I can tell that they are getting tired. But they know they have more tokens...so they go play some more games. Kurt is great at places like this. He sticks with the kids. He doesn't get irritated. Me...not so much. I hate crowds of people and I really don't like bands of youths hyped up on sugar. We use up the remaining tokens and turn in our tickets. The kids can select some random garbage that I can throw out later. The kids are so &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_12" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;overwhelmed&lt;/span&gt; in general, they can't even really pick a prize. We pick for them, 2 plastic spoons. Which on a normal day would seem like a great idea. The kids fight over these other 2 plastic spoons we have at home, so it would make sense to get 2 more, right? Ugh WRONG. Instantly, Julia is crying. No, Hysterical. Jimmy starts crying, because Julia is crying. Both of them are rubbing germs that the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_13" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;purell&lt;/span&gt; didn't kill into their eyes. We're trying to get their coats on, trying to get out the door. If we didn't have the matching numbers stamped on our hands, one would think we truly were stealing some kids. Fortunately, the boy stops crying, because he's not really crying about anything and sees this as an &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_14" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;opportunity&lt;/span&gt; to look like an angel for once. Screaming girl ensues in the car...all the way home...up the stairs and in the bath. Why all the rage? She wanted a toothpick style sword instead of a spoon. Really? She was tired, but still.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After both kids were finally in bed, I patted myself on the back...able to look back on the experience and say to myself..."He'll have to be going on the potty exclusively for the next 2 years before I step foot in that place again."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-7655610013553801895?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/7655610013553801895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=7655610013553801895' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/7655610013553801895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/7655610013553801895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2010/01/chuck-e-cheeseworst-pizza-in-world.html' title='Chuck E. Cheese...Worst Pizza in the World.'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-4531717893911393783</id><published>2010-01-28T07:37:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-28T07:51:06.331-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Aye Poppi!</title><content type='html'>My mom's husband Earle was given a great gift this week. He finally got a kidney. It's been a long road and several failed attempts, but Sunday night they got the call that there was one available and that he was #1 on the list. They got the go ahead on Monday and he had a new &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;kidney&lt;/span&gt; by the night's end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kidney is working great and if it weren't for a few unrelated complications, I think he'd start to feel better. He has developed a touch of pneumonia and it is that much harder to fight off infection when you are taking such high dosages of anti-rejection drugs. To make matters even worse, there was a point where the doctors thought that he'd had a minor heart attack, but apparently he was just experiencing a little distress. At &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;any rate&lt;/span&gt;, he's sedated and on a vent (which they hope to wean him off today) and the prognosis looks good. He's been sick and on dialysis for so long, that it will be a welcome change to see him looking better and not so tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of this "good" news does not come without some sadness. I think of the family that made such a selfless choice in their time of sorrow by donating their loved one's organs. Do they know how much of an impact they have made in our family? Do they realize what a gift they have given us? Do they know we pray for their family's recovery as much as we do for Earle's? It is such a priceless gift.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Julia &amp;amp; Jimmy don't know the extent of what has transpired over the past few days. Julia knew that &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Poppi&lt;/span&gt; needed to  have a surgery so he didn't have to use his "machine" at night. They don't know the details that go into him getting a kidney. In all honesty, they have focused on the fact that when &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Poppi&lt;/span&gt; got his surgery, that we'd get to have Charlie (their dog). Which is really all I want them to think about now. They are lucky to have 2 Grandpas - Papa (my dad) and a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Poppi&lt;/span&gt; that will be around for a lot longer.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-4531717893911393783?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/4531717893911393783/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=4531717893911393783' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/4531717893911393783'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/4531717893911393783'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2010/01/aye-poppi.html' title='Aye Poppi!'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-6812145243565514379</id><published>2010-01-21T14:01:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-21T14:20:55.969-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Monster Jam!</title><content type='html'>Jimmy is wild about cars &amp;amp; trucks. He loves going to the library and checking out the non-fiction section where all the books and videos are about various methods of transportation. One of his favorite movies to get (on VHS...thankfully we still have a working VCR) is &lt;em&gt;There Goes a Monster Truck. &lt;/em&gt;So Kurt thought that it would be fun to take him to Monster Jam when it came to town. I think Fun was an understatement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A week before, we watched a little bit of one on TV. Not knowing the lingo, the various truck names - I think it was helpful...apparently the phrase &lt;em&gt;FULL THROTTLE &lt;/em&gt;covers plenty of situations. Kurt &amp;amp; Jimmy didn't want to look like novices.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kurt got tickets with some friends from work and their kids, but it ended up that some people from his old department had the company suite, so they ended up going up there. A few weekends before we had dinner with a couple and their kids and they were up there. I am sure that Jimmy was happy to see those boys again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When they first got to Ford Field, Jimmy could hear the trucks moving around. He &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;panicked&lt;/span&gt; and told Kurt...&lt;em&gt;They're starting Dad! Let's Go!&lt;/em&gt; He was so worried that he'd miss the show. Fortunately, it was a late night affair and I don't think he was going to miss a thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are a few pics that Kurt took from the night. Jimmy is wearing his hat in most of these pictures, because it was the only way to keep the ear plugs in his ears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S1ilzlBaMNI/AAAAAAAABPA/f1RTYZDCJMI/s1600-h/002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429271656325066962" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S1ilzlBaMNI/AAAAAAAABPA/f1RTYZDCJMI/s400/002.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S1ilzfpEslI/AAAAAAAABO4/QrIIwi-0zDA/s1600-h/026.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429271654880817746" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S1ilzfpEslI/AAAAAAAABO4/QrIIwi-0zDA/s400/026.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S1ilyy94-7I/AAAAAAAABOw/KOUlzaEQQ8s/s1600-h/021.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429271642888534962" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S1ilyy94-7I/AAAAAAAABOw/KOUlzaEQQ8s/s400/021.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S1ilydHbqPI/AAAAAAAABOo/JssF0T1X0BU/s1600-h/032.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429271637022976242" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S1ilydHbqPI/AAAAAAAABOo/JssF0T1X0BU/s400/032.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S1ilyO3nA-I/AAAAAAAABOg/_4mLfYfZtrk/s1600-h/033.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429271633198515170" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S1ilyO3nA-I/AAAAAAAABOg/_4mLfYfZtrk/s400/033.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Jimmy was so fired up when he got home at 10:45PM. He was running around the house screaming, telling me about the trucks and which ones he saw. I thought that he'd never go to sleep. Fortunately, the minute he hit the sack and was still for a few minutes, he crashed. What fun he had! I know that we'll have to go again next year. Perhaps Julia and I will go too, just to see what the fuss was about.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-6812145243565514379?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/6812145243565514379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=6812145243565514379' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/6812145243565514379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/6812145243565514379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2010/01/monster-jam.html' title='Monster Jam!'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S1ilzlBaMNI/AAAAAAAABPA/f1RTYZDCJMI/s72-c/002.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-9165704626779862329</id><published>2010-01-20T19:42:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-20T23:00:41.987-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What We're Into These Days</title><content type='html'>As many of you know, I am an avid scrapbooker. One of the main purposes for blogging was so I wouldn't forget all the details when it came time to scrapbook. One of the things I have been trying to do lately is think of "out of the box pages." Things that when I look back in 20 years I will say "Wow, I totally forgot about that!" I am sure that I will remember all the birthday, Christmas, typical events that get scrapbooked, but it's the things that are part of our day to day lives that I am sure that I will forget. So from time to time, I am going to make it a point to blog about stuff that we're into...just so I don't forget.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't blog about Kurt that often. He's not really into others knowing what he's up to. But he does exist and he does participate in our family beyond paying the bills. Kurt has really been into running and working out this past year. I am actually really proud of him and his dedication. While the efforts of his working out are evident in his physical appearance (he's a hottie), I know that it does wonders for his emotional well being. He has always been the more health conscious of the two of us, but his lifestyle has rubbed off on me and I am working out more too. The fact that we are both thinner and in better shape than the day we got married is quite an accomplishment. Plus, hopefully we'll live a little longer and enjoy our fabulous life...together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's hard to say exactly what I am into these days (more like what I am NOT into)...there is what I'd like to be into more and what I am into. I have been really motivated lately to clean the house and rid it of excess. It's been something that I have been working on since the fall. My house is CLEAN, but you know when you come across a candle holder that you've had for 15 years and you keep moving to the back of the cabinet and you never really liked it anyway. Sorry...it's time to go. And that's the stuff that I've been doing. Kurt has a panic attack whenever he thinks about how much stuff we have stashed everywhere. Some of it can't be helped, but some of it can. Just watch an episode of Hoarders and you will be ready to purge. I am giddy with excitement that the Mom2Mom Sale is coming up in April. I can't wait to unload all of this baby stuff and kids clothes I have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am into Facebook. It's a love hate relationship. I spend way too much time on it, catching up with old friends or just chatting with Lib and a few other friends that I talk to on a regular basis anyway. I play a game called Bejeweled Blitz when I have time, competing with my friends trying to beat their scores. I love reading what people are up to (it's the voyeur in me), but don't have the time to talk to in &lt;em&gt;real life.&lt;/em&gt; I usually go on it when we are watching TV or a game that doesn't require my full attention. But I hate how when I look at the clock, I realize I have wasted an entire night (again) doing absolutely nothing. Ugh. In 2010, I am making a concerted effort to not spend as much time on it...but we all know that it will suck me in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another thing that I wish I had more time for is my crafting. I have made a huge effort this year to not volunteer too much and not be part of so many groups, so I can have more time for me. I love making cards and updating our scrapbooks. I love pouring over books and magazines about scrapbooking. I joined a scrapbooking league with a girlfriend that meets a few times a month. I make it a point to get together with my high school and college friends often to scrap. I need a creative outlet to be sane. Probably some of that comes from not having a job, but sitting down for an hour and making something gives me a sense of accomplishment and purpose. Not that SAHM isn't full of purpose, but potty training a 3 year old is like talking to a drunk or someone that doesn't speak your language. So an hour of creativity calms the 14 hours of chaos I experienced before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kurt and I are pretty big TV &amp;amp; movie watchers. We have become addicted to our DVR and the ease of watching what we want when we want. Our local library has pretty much any TV show that is available on DVD, as well any movie that is on DVD. We've become quite savvy with requesting what we want and just waiting for it to come in. We may have to wait a while for stuff sometimes, but it eventually comes in and we feel like we got our moneys worth out of our township taxes. Some of our favorite shows this past year have been: Mad Men, Entourage, Weeds, The Office, Gary Unmarried, Modern Family, SNL, Diners, Drive Ins and Dives, Curb Your Enthusiasm, Big Love, Lost, and we are STILL watching Seinfeld re-runs when they are on...laughing at our favorite lines...which we know by heart. I DVR lots of other things that Kurt won't watch (nor would I expect him to). Some of my favorites have been: Nip Tuck (I am in love with Dr. Troy), Desperate Housewives, Greys Anatomy, HGTV shows, Oprah and The Real Desperate Housewives (Orange County &amp;amp; New Jersey). This is all good stuff to get my weekly ironing done while watching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing that we are NOT into is all of the reality talent shows...American Idol, Dancing with the Stars, So You Think You Can Dance. It's just not our thing. Although, I do admit that I do enjoy watching the auditions of these shows...laughing at some people. Which is mean. I know. We also have fun watching the first few episodes of The Bachelor...what a train wreck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're into Tiger Baseball, MSU Football &amp;amp; Basketball, Red Wing Hockey. We're into cars and planning on what we're going to get next. We're into eating out at Leo's, Sizzling Sticks and Save Time Pizza. We're into home renovation projects, yard work and making our home nice. We're into going to the movies when my mom &amp;amp; Earle take the kids for the weekend. We're into Kurt's mom making us dinner at least once a week. We're into our iPods. We're into coffee and dessert after the kids go to bed. We're into getting together with our friends and family. We're into reading the paper on Sunday mornings. And as cheesy as it sounds (I will take flack on this one, but I don't care)...we are still into each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh...and we are also into our kids, but that is another blog post.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-9165704626779862329?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/9165704626779862329/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=9165704626779862329' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/9165704626779862329'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/9165704626779862329'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2010/01/what-were-into-these-days.html' title='What We&apos;re Into These Days'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-4766559844962517381</id><published>2010-01-14T21:15:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-14T22:15:34.214-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Random Unconnected Thoughts on Jimmy</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0_UsuUCN4I/AAAAAAAABOQ/XSWxEE1wQ-E/s1600-h/005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426789940816131970" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0_UsuUCN4I/AAAAAAAABOQ/XSWxEE1wQ-E/s400/005.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0_UscqdQTI/AAAAAAAABOI/4b0IAuoF690/s1600-h/10710+(13).JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426789936078340402" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0_UscqdQTI/AAAAAAAABOI/4b0IAuoF690/s400/10710+(13).JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0_UrVkqwDI/AAAAAAAABN4/gfthkWb3gjY/s1600-h/10710+(6).JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5426789916995141682" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0_UrVkqwDI/AAAAAAAABN4/gfthkWb3gjY/s400/10710+(6).JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Jimmy &amp;amp; I have been having fun lately while Julia is at school. He's such a little character. Sometimes I look at him and wonder...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;When asked what he wanted for dessert the other night cookie or ice cream, he told us half cookie, half ice cream. He has the concept of fractions down.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;He told me that his "jail truck has 100 horse power engine. " Kurt wondered if we could just skip preschool and enroll him in Mo-tech now. He already knows most of the parts of the car.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Quite frankly he told Kurt tonight "Your daddy died and your dog died. We need to go to the dog store and buy a new dog."&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;While playing with the maracas the other day, he told me he was "playing with his marac Obamas."&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Today during our Meijer shopping trip, I told him to pick out 2 boxes of fruit snacks and he picked out Batman for him and My Little Pony for Julia. He could have picked out 2 for him, but he didn't.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;Jimmy loves to go shopping. His favorite places are Meijers, Costco, Target and Marshalls. How ironic, that those are the stores that, while I probably would rather go to the mall, we go to most often. Sometimes when we are shopping, he'll fall asleep. Maybe we should go to the mall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Jimmy is very head strong. He's probably going to be 4 before he is potty trained. He'll go when he's in the mood, he'll sit on the potty to humor you and then tell you that he's "all out." He pretty much doesn't have much interest in it and is much happier going in his pants. No sense in fighting with him. He's his own little man. If things aren't going his way or the way he thinks they should go, he'll pretty much freak out...screaming or crying. It can be kind of exhausting to deal with. But if you can distract him, he'll calm down and sometimes he'll even cuddle with you.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Jimmy is a sweet little boy. He loves his family, his cars and dessert. Today he told me to come have my coffee on the couch with him while he was watching Dinosaur Train. When I sat down, he cuddled up with me. How sweet is that? He melted my heart. But he does that every day...&lt;/p&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/2282864000533678487-4766559844962517381?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/4766559844962517381/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=4766559844962517381' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/4766559844962517381'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/4766559844962517381'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2010/01/random-unconnected-thoughts-on-jimmy.html' title='Random Unconnected Thoughts on Jimmy'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0_UsuUCN4I/AAAAAAAABOQ/XSWxEE1wQ-E/s72-c/005.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-3718965921507785112</id><published>2010-01-04T22:15:00.024-05:00</published><updated>2010-01-05T01:02:58.773-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Christmas Season is a Busy Season...a Collection of Short Stories.</title><content type='html'>We had a busy December in our home. Lots going on, lots of fun things to do. This year we made a bigger effort to reduce the amount of crazy that comes with Christmas. I didn't stress out about making everything perfect, which is hard for me. In years' past I would stay up too late doing stuff that people didn't notice or didn't care that much about. So this year I didn't stress out. I spent time doing stuff that I wanted to do, relaxed with the family, enjoyed the season. And that we did. &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0K2lvLXwFI/AAAAAAAABNw/mXqR5Or6PI0/s1600-h/120209+(4).JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423097660743073874" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0K2lvLXwFI/AAAAAAAABNw/mXqR5Or6PI0/s400/120209+(4).JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the first things we did to kick off December was go to the tree lighting. The kids love this and really talk about it all year, pointing out in the summer "the tree that gets 1 2 3 lights!" We braved the rain and saw Santa right away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0K2lBCmdPI/AAAAAAAABNo/6gC7W4PE2cw/s1600-h/120209+(7).JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423097648358257906" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0K2lBCmdPI/AAAAAAAABNo/6gC7W4PE2cw/s400/120209+(7).JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While we were eating some cookies and punch, The Grinch was walking around. Jimmy was not too happy to see him, but Julia couldn't wait to have her picture taken with him. This movie and book are one of their favorites, but Jimmy just isn't a fan of adults in costume.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0K2k9uVbbI/AAAAAAAABNg/JtiW4vaf1T4/s1600-h/120209+(8).JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423097647467949490" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0K2k9uVbbI/AAAAAAAABNg/JtiW4vaf1T4/s400/120209+(8).JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the tree lighting, there were lots of things to do and see. They had dancers, singers, crafts, cookie decorating and drums. Drums? Yeah, a room full of little kids and all of the percussion instruments you could think of. Both kids loved it, but Jimmy couldn't get enough. I am not sure this would be my first choice for his musical education. But at least he has rhythm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0K2kp9kqII/AAAAAAAABNY/C7d-F5fkA0I/s1600-h/120209+(10).JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423097642163153026" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0K2kp9kqII/AAAAAAAABNY/C7d-F5fkA0I/s400/120209+(10).JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; **************************************************************************&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Another fun thing we did was have Breakfast with Santa. Grammie drove over to go with us. The kids had fun seeing another Santa and getting their faces painted. This event was held at our church and I am just so proud of our church and the great active youth group we have. They organized and ran a great event.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0K2kBLEYPI/AAAAAAAABNQ/5ElzHrrbOSw/s1600-h/121209.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423097631213904114" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0K2kBLEYPI/AAAAAAAABNQ/5ElzHrrbOSw/s400/121209.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0K1-ASxYrI/AAAAAAAABNI/Mxd-aTwKOG0/s1600-h/121209+(5).JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423096978142749362" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0K1-ASxYrI/AAAAAAAABNI/Mxd-aTwKOG0/s400/121209+(5).JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;***************************************************************&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Our kids are budding photographers. They love taking pictures. I know they watch us taking pictures and want to be a big kid too. It's so funny to watch them line up the shot and then say stuff to us before they take the picture. My favorite is after they take it, they look at it and say "Oh, that's a good one!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0K19g9wi5I/AAAAAAAABNA/6_32IYBFeKw/s1600-h/121309+(3).JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423096969733114770" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0K19g9wi5I/AAAAAAAABNA/6_32IYBFeKw/s400/121309+(3).JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0K1808TrBI/AAAAAAAABM4/fOteyjVpxqk/s1600-h/121309+(2).JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423096957915868178" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0K1808TrBI/AAAAAAAABM4/fOteyjVpxqk/s400/121309+(2).JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; ****************************************************************&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;We had our good friends, Doug, Kelly &amp;amp; Paige, over one night to hang out and the kids made gingerbread houses. Aunt Michelle bought a kit for the kids earlier in the month, which was so nice of her to think of. The kids loved adding their "touches" to their houses. I learned a few things for next year, since this was the first time I had done a house. I know...strange, but we never did them as kids. I was so abused.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0K172xW7YI/AAAAAAAABMo/sxVN55BUaPk/s1600-h/122009+(9).JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423096941226945922" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0K172xW7YI/AAAAAAAABMo/sxVN55BUaPk/s400/122009+(9).JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0K083RDyiI/AAAAAAAABMg/Wcw9cl2gkYQ/s1600-h/122009+(11).JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423095859028150818" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0K083RDyiI/AAAAAAAABMg/Wcw9cl2gkYQ/s400/122009+(11).JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0K08tTM9DI/AAAAAAAABMY/-azUzgwDvh4/s1600-h/122009+(13).JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423095856352785458" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0K08tTM9DI/AAAAAAAABMY/-azUzgwDvh4/s400/122009+(13).JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; ********************************************************************&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;My favorite Christmas tradition is baking. I love to make several different kinds of cookies throughout the month, freezing the dough and then baking the cookies as we need them. Ever since I was a little girl ("old enough to hold a plastic knife" as my mom says), we would frost sugar cookies. This is a tradition that I must pass on to my kids too. I love that Julia would ask me every few days once she saw the basket of cookie cutters when we were going to decorate cookies. A few days before Christmas seemed like a good day to do it and we invited her friend, Kylie and sister Ashley over to decorate. Plus it gave their mom a few hours to run some errands without kids. We had fun decorating the cookies while listening to Christmas music. These cookies were my favorite yet again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Kylie &amp;amp; Julia&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0K08Ojc_fI/AAAAAAAABMQ/LfhNFqmsu6E/s1600-h/122209+(3).JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423095848099446258" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0K08Ojc_fI/AAAAAAAABMQ/LfhNFqmsu6E/s400/122209+(3).JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Julia, Jimmy, Ashley &amp;amp; Kylie&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0K07nGAQ5I/AAAAAAAABMI/NywEGMTTdz4/s1600-h/122209+(2).JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423095837506945938" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0K07nGAQ5I/AAAAAAAABMI/NywEGMTTdz4/s400/122209+(2).JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Wilton Decorating has nothing on Julia&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0K07Ds1Q2I/AAAAAAAABMA/I8-pfazps0A/s1600-h/122209+(5).JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423095828006126434" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0K07Ds1Q2I/AAAAAAAABMA/I8-pfazps0A/s400/122209+(5).JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;*************************************************************&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Christmas Eve we went to Kurt's mom's house. The kids were pretty excited to see their cousins (minus Christina &amp;amp; Meghan who were in Florida visiting their other Grandpa) and open some presents. They saw the presents under the tree earlier in the week when we went over to Mom's for dinner one night. Julia couldn't stop talking about the three presents with her name on them. But before presents is the food. I know that those of you who aren't part of this Italian Family have heard the tales of excess, but really you have to experience it and the 3 days of leftovers that ensue after.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Some of the appetizers....after they've been raided...I know, still plenty there.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0K0Ntzc1rI/AAAAAAAABL4/NCtuG151cCI/s1600-h/122409+(4).JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423095049034192562" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0K0Ntzc1rI/AAAAAAAABL4/NCtuG151cCI/s400/122409+(4).JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Some of the dinner buffet...after it has been served. Again...it looks like there is enough to feed another giant family. And there is.&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0K0NOpmYMI/AAAAAAAABLw/8Ob3b6P7MHI/s1600-h/122409+(33).JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423095040671375554" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0K0NOpmYMI/AAAAAAAABLw/8Ob3b6P7MHI/s400/122409+(33).JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;The Desserts...my favorite part!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0K0Mmsa5EI/AAAAAAAABLo/akTmwR2GIFs/s1600-h/122409+(6).JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423095029945787458" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0K0Mmsa5EI/AAAAAAAABLo/akTmwR2GIFs/s400/122409+(6).JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Julia &amp;amp; Jimmy couldn't wait to open gifts. They had been patient, but it was getting hard to be so good. Aunt Fran gave Julia and Jimmy a coveted ZhuZhu pet. I didn't think that Julia even knew what it was, because it wasn't something she asked for and I didn't bother to look for one since they were THE TOY of 2009. As soon as she opened it, she knew exactly what it did and what it was. Interesting what these kids can learn from TV.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0K0MBVcbHI/AAAAAAAABLg/rIklEH3pLwI/s1600-h/122409+(13).JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423095019917306994" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0K0MBVcbHI/AAAAAAAABLg/rIklEH3pLwI/s400/122409+(13).JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Julia is so expressive! She was so excited to see a pair of PJs with WonderWoman on them. Mom loves to shop and spends a greater part of her fall (and Spring and Summer) finding just the perfect gifts for everyone on her list. Another cool thing she found for Julia was a WonderWoman Switch Plate cover for her bedroom. Where does one find that?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0K0L_gs3xI/AAAAAAAABLY/mS6dancLg_A/s1600-h/122409+(20).JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423095019427651346" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0K0L_gs3xI/AAAAAAAABLY/mS6dancLg_A/s400/122409+(20).JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jimmy showing us who Grandma's Boy Really Is. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423094408150640050" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0KzoaU55bI/AAAAAAAABLQ/mntWDWUlvVk/s400/122409.JPG" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0Kzn-uSFiI/AAAAAAAABLI/EyYQdX4wAEg/s1600-h/122409+(28).JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423094400740890146" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0Kzn-uSFiI/AAAAAAAABLI/EyYQdX4wAEg/s400/122409+(28).JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;There was much speculation as to when Julia would be getting her American Girl Doll. She knew that she was going to get it for Christmas, but didn't know when. In the summer we went to Chicago to look at the dolls in the store, she picked Julie after much deliberation on hair length and eye color. Mom has bought all the girls a doll, so this was the year for Julia. Uncle Jeff picked up the doll when he was in Chicago for business a few months back. I still chuckle picturing him in that store, looking for the Julie section and then walking down Michigan Avenue with that huge red bag. What an Uncle!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Julia was just so excited when she opened this present. I am sure that many dollars will be spent on accessories, clothes and friends in the next few years. But really, can you put a price on that imagination that goes with it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0KznaBYjXI/AAAAAAAABLA/xgYvQxZxtHI/s1600-h/122409+(23).JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423094390888893810" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0KznaBYjXI/AAAAAAAABLA/xgYvQxZxtHI/s400/122409+(23).JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; ************************************************************************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I found these super cute doll beds online, but didn't like the bedding that came with them, so I made it my Christmas Project for 2009 to make cute bedding for the beds. No small feat with little people surrounding you all the time. I managed to get them done several days before Christmas so Santa could leave them for Julia &amp;amp; my niece, Olivia. I think they turned out so cute!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Olivia's Doll Bed&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0KyT06lgBI/AAAAAAAABKo/v9YhAQqkWFg/s1600-h/122509+(2).JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423092954999128082" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0KyT06lgBI/AAAAAAAABKo/v9YhAQqkWFg/s400/122509+(2).JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Julia's Doll Bed with the rest of her presents from Santa.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0KyTYZb7XI/AAAAAAAABKg/dPkxaeoiav0/s1600-h/122509+(3).JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423092947343895922" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0KyTYZb7XI/AAAAAAAABKg/dPkxaeoiav0/s400/122509+(3).JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Santa came!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0KyS6STQwI/AAAAAAAABKY/kjFpsw2fxeA/s1600-h/122509+(5).JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423092939260904194" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0KyS6STQwI/AAAAAAAABKY/kjFpsw2fxeA/s400/122509+(5).JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jimmy with his favorite present...a Log (Pipe) Truck&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0KxYFEfioI/AAAAAAAABJ4/6nwolg9y_54/s1600-h/122509+(13).JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423091928543496834" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0KxYFEfioI/AAAAAAAABJ4/6nwolg9y_54/s400/122509+(13).JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;All a girl could want!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0KxX2UDwOI/AAAAAAAABJw/6a_Fa9iBdVc/s1600-h/122509+(12).JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423091924582252770" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0KxX2UDwOI/AAAAAAAABJw/6a_Fa9iBdVc/s400/122509+(12).JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0KxXQs6kII/AAAAAAAABJo/N7Yju-yf1O4/s1600-h/122509+(7).JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423091914485960834" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0KxXQs6kII/AAAAAAAABJo/N7Yju-yf1O4/s400/122509+(7).JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't take any pictures when we went to my dad's house for Christmas Day. My sister took all the pictures. We had a full house and it was hard to get up and take pictures. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;****************************************************************************&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Because Christmas 2009 was all about celebrating without stress, we had the rule of one house per day. With divorced parents and a mother-in-law, that leaves 3 days of celebrations. We have Christmas Eve with Kurt's family, Christmas Day with my Dad's family and a new tradition of Boxing Day with my Mom's family. We hosted the Boxing Day Fete...which in hindsight should have been Festivus (the Seinfeld holiday where there are the feats of strength at the Festivus "Pole" and the airing of grievances. Perhaps next year Kurt will get his wish, because he has alot (or so he says).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I made my famous Italian Beef (thanks Aunt Fran...you have made me famous) and we used our wedding china. I don't even think Kurt complained about it either. He's getting soft in his old age. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Julia trying out her Rollar Skates from Aunt Libby in the Foyer&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0KxW1FMXzI/AAAAAAAABJg/h3hA8aG_m-0/s1600-h/017.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423091907071598386" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0KxW1FMXzI/AAAAAAAABJg/h3hA8aG_m-0/s400/017.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Good Gift Award 2009 goes to Uncle Chuck &amp;amp; Aunt Marcy for getting the kids Light Sabers, among other gifts. These aren't any ordinary Light Sabers that our kids have seen. These light up and make (very loud) lazer cutting sounds. The force is strong with these two. Of course Julia is Padma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0Kv6lvaMDI/AAAAAAAABJY/iK2PlNJoVgQ/s1600-h/009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423090322405732402" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0Kv6lvaMDI/AAAAAAAABJY/iK2PlNJoVgQ/s400/009.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jimmy loves all things that have to do with tools. Last year he got a tool bench with some tools in it, but it didn't have all the necessary tools. Grammie and Poppi rounded out his collection with things like a vice, drill press, tool belt, and a bunch of other random tools that I don't bother myself with. He even got his own tool box. He's loving helping out around the house. Although he looks like he is auditioning for the Village People or some type of All Male Review.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0Kv6FOX9eI/AAAAAAAABJQ/0qQrBXvkPNw/s1600-h/012c.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423090313677239778" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0Kv6FOX9eI/AAAAAAAABJQ/0qQrBXvkPNw/s400/012c.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not to be outdone by her brother, Julia had to have a wardrobe change in the middle of Boxing Day and put on her "Cheetah." She would wear this dance/gymnastics leotard every day if I let her. In the summer, she would beg me to let her wear it outside or when we'd run errands. You can see why I didn't cave often. Most mornings in our home she will be running around in this get-up or her too small WonderWoman costume. I have a feeling she's working on her moves for Project Runway 2025 or she's auditioning for Roller Derby. At least she's got a matching purse.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0Kv542dtZI/AAAAAAAABJI/hy7CZhWsFiM/s1600-h/013.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423090310355727762" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0Kv542dtZI/AAAAAAAABJI/hy7CZhWsFiM/s400/013.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; And no Christmas celebration would be complete without a game. This year we played Left Right Center, a dice game. We played with quarters and the pot didn't turn over for 3 times for the last game, which left Kurt victorious. He will now be able to wash his car all summer on his winnings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0Kv48Z5_-I/AAAAAAAABI4/x0vEu2BU820/s1600-h/020.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423090294129819618" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0Kv48Z5_-I/AAAAAAAABI4/x0vEu2BU820/s400/020.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, just writing all of that exhausted me. Good thing i have had a few days to recover from all of our festivities. I am glad that we're now in January, back to our regular schedule and some normalcy. It's nice to have such a great fun filled month to look back on during the next 2 very cold months ahead.&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 class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-3718965921507785112?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/3718965921507785112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=3718965921507785112' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/3718965921507785112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/3718965921507785112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2010/01/christmas-season-is-busy-seasona.html' title='The Christmas Season is a Busy Season...a Collection of Short Stories.'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S0K2lvLXwFI/AAAAAAAABNw/mXqR5Or6PI0/s72-c/120209+(4).JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-7081872045247813920</id><published>2009-11-14T09:21:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-14T09:46:20.468-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It's So Hard to Say Goodbye...</title><content type='html'>When we first moved to our area, I was 5 months pregnant and a little bitter. I didn't want to move to suburbia, I wanted to be closer to the action and a mall. I thought that our life after kids would be spent going out while the kids were with Grandma. Yeah, not so much. I love our little suburbia and all that goes with it. One of the best parts of our area is our church and the great group of ladies I met at moms group. Julia was still a baby when I started going and I can't imagine what I would have done without that group. The best part was that I met some of my very closest friends in that group, not even realizing that I would, nor expecting it. Many of us have moved on to the point of not needing "moms group" per se, since we have our little group of friends and our days are pretty full and busy. But we still NEED each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Connecting with other women in your 30s is not the easiest thing. People have their own sets of friends and their busy lives. But I have never felt like it was much work with this set of ladies. It's just this open group of lots of different opinions, but with a common bond of faith. Now, don't get me wrong, we're not quoting scripture (one of last night's discussions involved the decoding of rubber bracelets), we just chat. I love curling up on the floor with a glass of wine and just chatting about random stuff with these girls. I always have fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So last night's get together was another farewell. It's the worst part. Husbands get transferred...it's a fact of life. But it doesn't make it any easier. We had a great time last night, but the ominous reason why we were all there hung over us. None of us are good at goodbyes. I always feel sad for myself, but even more so for whomever is leaving. They are taking a giant leap and hoping that when they land, they will find some girls half as cool as us to fill the void. That sucks. We still have each other, they have to go find a whole new set of people. Ugh. At least there is facebook and email, but it isn't the same. So, I will keep my sweet Jen in my prayers, that she will find some great people to replace us  and one day she will hopefully not know what she did without this NEW group of ladies. That's really all you can hope for.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-7081872045247813920?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/7081872045247813920/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=7081872045247813920' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/7081872045247813920'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/7081872045247813920'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/11/its-so-hard-to-say-goodbye.html' title='It&apos;s So Hard to Say Goodbye...'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-2848514256537437902</id><published>2009-11-13T07:26:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-13T07:36:40.175-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Balancing Life</title><content type='html'>So I have taken another break from blogging...I know lots of you were upset that I took a break. I have no good reason why...life just gets busy. I have been making an effort to not be on the computer so much. But I know that I have missed &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;journalling&lt;/span&gt; our crazy life. So, I am going to try to get back into it. I know that in 10 years I will be thankful that i kept track of what was going on in our day to day. I probably will laugh and say "wow, it was so easy back then!" Which brings me to that age old question about how every mom of teenagers says how it was so much easier when they were small. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;WTH&lt;/span&gt;? Really? I beg to differ. Perhaps the stress is more - like when they are coming home or where they are, but do you remember the insanity known as potty training? Do you remember going through 4 pairs of underwear before 10:30am? I am not minimizing the stress of parenting a teen, but I know I have completely blocked out the 6 mos it took to potty train Julia, so it IS possible that they have blocked out all the bad that goes with little kids. Don't get me started on the constant state of chaos that is on every floor of my home. Someday...when the kiddos are gone at school, I will have a clean house the way I like it to be. I will be caught up on my scrapbooks, I will finally take some time to make curtains for my kitchen, dining room and bathroom. But until then, I will just try to make the best of trying to balance my life with these 2 precious babies God has given to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-2848514256537437902?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/2848514256537437902/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=2848514256537437902' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/2848514256537437902'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/2848514256537437902'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/11/balancing-life.html' title='Balancing Life'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-5723581107536022437</id><published>2009-09-13T22:35:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-13T22:46:48.528-04:00</updated><title type='text'>First Day of School</title><content type='html'>Things have been a little crazy around here, adjusting to the first week of school, so I didn't have time to post an appropriate post about Julia's first day of school, complete with photos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Sq2smPxtmSI/AAAAAAAABFA/I1PWxYrIois/s1600-h/90809+(2).JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381146902847658274" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Sq2smPxtmSI/AAAAAAAABFA/I1PWxYrIois/s400/90809+(2).JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Sq2sl4uufwI/AAAAAAAABE4/MXpajBMvWvY/s1600-h/90809+(3).JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381146896661118722" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Sq2sl4uufwI/AAAAAAAABE4/MXpajBMvWvY/s400/90809+(3).JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Sq2slbr6psI/AAAAAAAABEw/_HDcSO1QDpw/s1600-h/90809+(9).JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381146888864704194" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Sq2slbr6psI/AAAAAAAABEw/_HDcSO1QDpw/s400/90809+(9).JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Julia was so excited about her first day of school. She got a little nervous when we were walking into her classroom, but she was fine once she got in there and settled. She checked out the other kids and you could just tell that she was ready to be in school. That's when it kind of hit me and I could barely get 3 word sentences out. I kissed her goodbye and returned a few hours later to pick her up. She was so excited and had lots to say about her day. I can tell that this is going to be a good year!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Sq2sk2CwniI/AAAAAAAABEo/In-_-xORrQE/s1600-h/90809+(20).JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5381146878759968290" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Sq2sk2CwniI/AAAAAAAABEo/In-_-xORrQE/s400/90809+(20).JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-5723581107536022437?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/5723581107536022437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=5723581107536022437' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/5723581107536022437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/5723581107536022437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/09/first-day-of-school.html' title='First Day of School'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Sq2smPxtmSI/AAAAAAAABFA/I1PWxYrIois/s72-c/90809+(2).JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-4028473966203940799</id><published>2009-09-08T06:45:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-08T07:01:21.017-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Step on the Brakes, but Hit the Gas...</title><content type='html'>I am so confused. Life is just flying by and I am not sure if I want it to stop or keep going forward. Julia starts her young 5s program today. This summer I have been collecting the school supplies on the list, we picked out the backpack, got some new clothes, bought shoes, and all the other stuff that goes with gearing up for school. It has been exciting. I loved school as a kid and can still remember the excitement of the first day like it was yesterday. Julia's been pretty excited too, we've had plenty of exposure to her new school, the playground and her new teacher, Mrs. M. She's young and pretty (Julia says we look alike because we have black hair) and genuine. We've got our carpool nailed down and all the particulars. &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Things&lt;/span&gt; are looking good. We haven't made too big of a deal about Young 5s, trying not to freak Julia out about it. It seems to have paid off. We're treating it like it's a fact of life. Last night Julia told me that she didn't want to go to school, that she was already smarter than Daddy and that she was mad that I always sign her up for stuff. I downplayed her &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;tirade&lt;/span&gt;, but worried that she may be a little anxious herself. Then I started to worry. I can't believe that my baby is technically ready for kindergarten and she's going to be going to school everyday for half the day! I thought I was ready for this, but I lied. Where did the time go? That's when I want to put the brakes on my sweet life and just soak it up. Keep my kids under my wing and go about our days however we want. But come on, that would just be silly, because there is so much good stuff to come ahead. This is what I have been so excited about. She's going to learn so much and we're going to learn so much about her. We're going to learn what she's passionate about (besides superheroes and the color pink). We're going to meet new friends. We're going to watch her learn and grow. I can't wait for that part. So, here we go....I'm going to pull out of the driveway, but I will drive with one foot on the gas, but the other is going to just hover on the brake the whole way.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-4028473966203940799?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/4028473966203940799/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=4028473966203940799' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/4028473966203940799'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/4028473966203940799'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/09/step-on-brakes-but-hit-gas.html' title='Step on the Brakes, but Hit the Gas...'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-2460987608018577027</id><published>2009-09-02T23:43:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-02T23:47:40.030-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Buh-Bye Summer Vacation...</title><content type='html'>Where did the summer go? It seemed to just fly by. Now we're just days out from the first day of school! I've taken a little break from blogging this summer to just be. But i know that I missed it and have lots of ramblings in my head to contribute to cyberspace. We've had a nice summer...lots of places visited and things we did. I am quickly realizing that the kids are only going to be this small for so long. I enjoy it, but i have to say that I am looking forward to the next few years. They are just learning so much and literally changing before my eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Looking forward to Fall 2009 and all the excitement that it will bring into our lives.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-2460987608018577027?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/2460987608018577027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=2460987608018577027' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/2460987608018577027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/2460987608018577027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/09/buh-bye-summer-vacation.html' title='Buh-Bye Summer Vacation...'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-863035254912087292</id><published>2009-07-13T00:46:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-13T01:01:46.922-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Celebrating the 4th Across the Border!</title><content type='html'>Family tradition is to celebrate July 4th in Canada, at Aunt Fran's cottage. I know, kind of strange, but that's the way we roll over here. It is so relaxing there and our 4th was no exception. I wanted nothing more than to put my feet up in a chair and finish my book and Kurt wanted to nap in the hammock. Done! Plus Jimmy napped for like 3 hours in a chair right in front of the water. And  Julia got undivided Uncle Jeff attention...which she loved. It really was a perfect day. I forgot to mention all of the yummy food...your regular 4th of July treats, plus a lasagna. When we went to pick up Great Grandma, Julia asked her why she always makes lasagna (really, whenever she goes anywhere, she brings a lasagna). She said it's the only thing she knows how to make. Not true, but it was funny. I wonder how many lasagnas Great Grandma has made over the years...too many to count i am sure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Julia &amp;amp; Uncle Jeff Kayaking to Basketball Practice&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Slq8t8RG_XI/AAAAAAAABEY/ywUhAud6D3Q/s1600-h/7.4+(4).JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357802204168650098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Slq8t8RG_XI/AAAAAAAABEY/ywUhAud6D3Q/s400/7.4+(4).JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Aunt Michelle &amp;amp; Julia kayaking for real or as Julia would say "In real life."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Slq8tXHGfiI/AAAAAAAABEQ/Tjpf1Tfj8iA/s1600-h/7.4+(13).JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357802194194562594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Slq8tXHGfiI/AAAAAAAABEQ/Tjpf1Tfj8iA/s400/7.4+(13).JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Kurt catching some of Jimmy's heat&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Slq8s4snp2I/AAAAAAAABEI/5J_98HoavXI/s1600-h/7.4+(19).JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357802186030425954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Slq8s4snp2I/AAAAAAAABEI/5J_98HoavXI/s400/7.4+(19).JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Looking Grown Up...ready for Little League.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Slq8sSdmwCI/AAAAAAAABEA/iho2k7bJnAY/s1600-h/7.4+(21).JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357802175766904866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Slq8sSdmwCI/AAAAAAAABEA/iho2k7bJnAY/s400/7.4+(21).JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Julia, Jimmy, Grandma &amp;amp; Aunt Fran waiting for the sun to set&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Slq8r-eMmdI/AAAAAAAABD4/duM-irzzWxs/s1600-h/7.4+(25).JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357802170400676306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Slq8r-eMmdI/AAAAAAAABD4/duM-irzzWxs/s400/7.4+(25).JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;What a view...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357802437799481026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Slq87inCjsI/AAAAAAAABEg/vBYcn4U5WJg/s400/7.4+(29).JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&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/2282864000533678487-863035254912087292?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/863035254912087292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=863035254912087292' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/863035254912087292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/863035254912087292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/07/celebrating-4th-across-border.html' title='Celebrating the 4th Across the Border!'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Slq8t8RG_XI/AAAAAAAABEY/ywUhAud6D3Q/s72-c/7.4+(4).JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-4210154715058646942</id><published>2009-07-13T00:39:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-13T00:46:18.150-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Fireworks on the Green</title><content type='html'>On the 3rd, we went with our friends Doug &amp;amp; Kelly to watch the fireworks at their golf club. They had music, a bouncer for the kids, food and drinks and you could lay your blankets on one section of the golf course to watch the show. It was a great show, the kids had fun. Most importantly, we made the stop at Michael's to get the glow in the dark bracelets, which were a hit. Although &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;every time&lt;/span&gt; the kids see fireworks, they think they need these bracelets....it could be a problem if I don't stock up :-)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Julia, Paige &amp;amp; Jimmy&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Slq7AiHyX1I/AAAAAAAABDw/xx4RORysKLU/s1600-h/7309+(3).JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357800324544487250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Slq7AiHyX1I/AAAAAAAABDw/xx4RORysKLU/s400/7309+(3).JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Slq7ALfMTPI/AAAAAAAABDo/VSpdLLbo2co/s1600-h/7309+(8).JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357800318468639986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Slq7ALfMTPI/AAAAAAAABDo/VSpdLLbo2co/s400/7309+(8).JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Slq6_8RYpXI/AAAAAAAABDg/xxxXmnmINrg/s1600-h/7309+(9).JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357800314384196978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Slq6_8RYpXI/AAAAAAAABDg/xxxXmnmINrg/s400/7309+(9).JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&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/2282864000533678487-4210154715058646942?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/4210154715058646942/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=4210154715058646942' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/4210154715058646942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/4210154715058646942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/07/fireworks-on-green.html' title='Fireworks on the Green'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Slq7AiHyX1I/AAAAAAAABDw/xx4RORysKLU/s72-c/7309+(3).JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-2121631319400697770</id><published>2009-07-13T00:17:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-13T00:37:49.298-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Chicago!</title><content type='html'>On a whim 2 weeks ago, we decided to go to Chicago for the weekend. One of Kurt's friends has an apartment right downtown (3 blocks from Navy Pier) and offered it up to us to use since he was going to be home over the weekend, so why not? To top it off, he also got a sweet Navigator to drive down there (thank you, Mitch). The kids loved the DVD player and the fact that it was so big. We even threw Kurt's mom in to the mix as well. Why not?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the way down we asked the kids if they wanted to go see fish or dinosaurs, they picked fish, so we visited Shedd Aquarium. They had fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Slq13d2T15I/AAAAAAAABDI/NtDald3lWTE/s1600-h/62709+(22).JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357794671220479890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Slq13d2T15I/AAAAAAAABDI/NtDald3lWTE/s400/62709+(22).JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We also hit Michigan Avenue for a little window shopping. We actually didn't really shop at all (unless you count a bathing suit for Julia that was on sale). We ate at The Cheesecake Factory, which is probably one of my favorite restaurants, although Kurt really doesn't like the food, only the cheesecake...he appeased me and we ate there. Most importantly, we hit the American Girl Store. Julia will be getting a doll for her birthday and she needed to check out all of the dolls to pick which one she wanted. For a while, she told me she just wanted one in a pink dress, but she quickly realized that there were lots of clothes they could wear. She was quite methodical about picking which doll she would be getting. She wanted one with blonde hair and then decided that it needed to be long. Then it was down to 2 different girls and she picked the one with brown eyes, because "I have brown eyes too" - funny how she didn't really get into the fact that the doll's name is "Julie." It was a fun time for her to see all of that. We didn't buy anything there and she was very good about just "looking." Jimmy on the other hand told Kurt after a few minutes in there "Let's get out of here!" - too many girls, no boy stuff and he was strapped into his stroller.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;No trip would be complete without a visit to Navy Pier...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Julia in a fun house mirror...long neck, short body.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Slq125ScpxI/AAAAAAAABDA/NxxBpDWG73w/s1600-h/62809+(2).JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357794661406385938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Slq125ScpxI/AAAAAAAABDA/NxxBpDWG73w/s400/62809+(2).JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;What a day!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Slq12kIKPVI/AAAAAAAABC4/3Bz7RIQSZWc/s1600-h/62809+(5).JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357794655726091602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Slq12kIKPVI/AAAAAAAABC4/3Bz7RIQSZWc/s400/62809+(5).JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;On the Ferris Wheel...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Slq12Z6zCQI/AAAAAAAABCw/rpNvVCyjBjI/s1600-h/62809+(9).JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357794652985690370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Slq12Z6zCQI/AAAAAAAABCw/rpNvVCyjBjI/s400/62809+(9).JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Slq12DWedqI/AAAAAAAABCo/knoZz61nujs/s1600-h/62809+(16).JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357794646927767202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Slq12DWedqI/AAAAAAAABCo/knoZz61nujs/s400/62809+(16).JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all, it was a fun weekend, Kurt's highlight was the rooftop pool at the apartment. Let's just say that there was alot to see there :-). The kids are pretty good travelers and make these kind of trips more fun. Having mom along for the trip is fun too, she helps keep the kids occupied and I know that she enjoys spending time with us too. We are a lucky family!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&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/2282864000533678487-2121631319400697770?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/2121631319400697770/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=2121631319400697770' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/2121631319400697770'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/2121631319400697770'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/07/chicago.html' title='Chicago!'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Slq13d2T15I/AAAAAAAABDI/NtDald3lWTE/s72-c/62709+(22).JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-3017099639871655977</id><published>2009-07-13T00:12:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-13T00:17:10.328-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer Shots</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The family having a Wii Boxing match&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Slq0qM1Cy1I/AAAAAAAABCg/q5nYi4vdMeY/s1600-h/61709+(3).JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357793343801838418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Slq0qM1Cy1I/AAAAAAAABCg/q5nYi4vdMeY/s400/61709+(3).JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Slq0p5bB1JI/AAAAAAAABCY/FOavXA5t2JM/s1600-h/61809+(10).JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357793338592449682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Slq0p5bB1JI/AAAAAAAABCY/FOavXA5t2JM/s400/61809+(10).JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Slq0pj0uw-I/AAAAAAAABCQ/R55e8c7xWF4/s1600-h/61809+(21).JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357793332794672098" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Slq0pj0uw-I/AAAAAAAABCQ/R55e8c7xWF4/s400/61809+(21).JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Julia giving Daddy his Father's Day Notepad&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Slq0pEPsc4I/AAAAAAAABCI/DuT-vpjPlIw/s1600-h/62109+(7).JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357793324317832066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Slq0pEPsc4I/AAAAAAAABCI/DuT-vpjPlIw/s400/62109+(7).JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Little Ricky Bobby...Shake &amp;amp; Bake!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Slq0o29wa2I/AAAAAAAABCA/NkrpM7PA2XQ/s1600-h/62109+(12).JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357793320752933730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Slq0o29wa2I/AAAAAAAABCA/NkrpM7PA2XQ/s400/62109+(12).JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&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/2282864000533678487-3017099639871655977?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/3017099639871655977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=3017099639871655977' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/3017099639871655977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/3017099639871655977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/07/summer-shots.html' title='Summer Shots'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Slq0qM1Cy1I/AAAAAAAABCg/q5nYi4vdMeY/s72-c/61709+(3).JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-5125375907600341228</id><published>2009-07-12T22:57:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-13T00:12:14.147-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Some Summer Shots</title><content type='html'>Just a few more shots from summer...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SlqkfKN2WuI/AAAAAAAABB0/X-Hlq8A86UA/s1600-h/53009+(4).JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357775561935968994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SlqkfKN2WuI/AAAAAAAABB0/X-Hlq8A86UA/s400/53009+(4).JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Julia...soccer star!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Slqkeh-loLI/AAAAAAAABBo/XsdMPnVRrhY/s1600-h/60609+(3).JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357775551134539954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Slqkeh-loLI/AAAAAAAABBo/XsdMPnVRrhY/s400/60609+(3).JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;and everyone gets a medal!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SlqkeJRmcwI/AAAAAAAABBc/gvgD-V4bx4g/s1600-h/60609+(4).JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357775544503399170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SlqkeJRmcwI/AAAAAAAABBc/gvgD-V4bx4g/s400/60609+(4).JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jimmy driving the boat with Uncle Doug&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Slqkd5_MXoI/AAAAAAAABBU/X9k3lGKaBEE/s1600-h/61509+(5).JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357775540399660674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Slqkd5_MXoI/AAAAAAAABBU/X9k3lGKaBEE/s400/61509+(5).JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Julia &amp;amp; Paige BFFs...being silly!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SlqkdQLiayI/AAAAAAAABBM/qDpxyH5gPFE/s1600-h/61509+(10).JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5357775529177148194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SlqkdQLiayI/AAAAAAAABBM/qDpxyH5gPFE/s400/61509+(10).JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&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/2282864000533678487-5125375907600341228?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/5125375907600341228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=5125375907600341228' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/5125375907600341228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/5125375907600341228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/07/some-summer-shots.html' title='Some Summer Shots'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SlqkfKN2WuI/AAAAAAAABB0/X-Hlq8A86UA/s72-c/53009+(4).JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-7548578974952914598</id><published>2009-06-17T14:46:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-17T15:15:05.188-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Time Away...</title><content type='html'>Last weekend, I took off. Really. I just left. Okay, that's a little dramatic (me?dramatic?never!). It was a planned weekend away with the girls, which was very much needed and well deserved. I knew that I'd come back &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;rejuvenated&lt;/span&gt; and happy - but I didn't realize just how much I needed it. My life is pretty easy as a stay at home mom. I set my own hours pretty much, I do what I want, I waste time on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;facebook&lt;/span&gt; and the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Internet&lt;/span&gt; after the kids are in bed, I read &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;alot&lt;/span&gt; of books. Life is good. To top it off, I have a fabulous husband who is a very involved father and very helpful around the house. Plus he's easy on the eyes. I have 2 pretty great kids who get by &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;alot&lt;/span&gt; on their good looks. But still, I need to have time to be me...alone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Cas&lt;/span&gt;, my friend from forever, coordinated this whole weekend at a hotel to scrapbook &amp;amp; shop, but mostly to be together with a bunch of friends from high school/college. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Cas&lt;/span&gt; and I have been friends since 1st grade, when we both were in love with Bobby W. and planned to own a RV and travel the US once we graduated. We were cheerleaders together starting in 7&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; grade all the way up to our senior year. And as if we couldn't get enough of each other, we became roommates in college. I think &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Cas&lt;/span&gt; is the person that I can be the silliest with, since she has known me the longest and knows I am just a goofball. Her older sister, Nikki, and I became friends in high school when we were on the same cheer team. Fun times were had with those girls. And this weekend was no exception. In addition to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Cas&lt;/span&gt; &amp;amp; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Nik&lt;/span&gt; and their mom &amp;amp; aunt, a few other friends from high school joined us, as well as a few other friends and it was a blast. We just were silly and had fun being creative. I finished 25 pages in Julia's scrapbook. Unfortunately, i was working on 2006-2007...so she is still 2 years behind. But that's cool. I just had a great time. I came home feeling great, because I had a chance to recharge and not be a mom/wife for a few days. Everyone should do that once in a while. I can't wait until we do it again in the fall!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-7548578974952914598?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/7548578974952914598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=7548578974952914598' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/7548578974952914598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/7548578974952914598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/06/time-away.html' title='Time Away...'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-7978569640419485585</id><published>2009-06-03T09:35:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-03T09:45:32.732-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Julia's last day of Preschool</title><content type='html'>I didn't think that I'd get emotional about Julia's last day of preschool. She's not really going to kindergarten next year, young 5s, which in all reality is quite similar to kindergarten - but nonetheless, I still feel like i have my little girl. But as we were getting ready to go to the park to celebrate her "last day" - it kind of hit me that my little girl is growing up so crazy fast. It's like I blinked and she became this little girl who is so bright and inquisitive. So sweet, yet so sour sometimes. So helpful. So wanting to be 5. It just flew by....it was just like yesterday when we moved here and I was pregnant. Everyone says it flies by. I knew there had to be some truth to it, but you don't think it will happen to you. I am really going to make an effort to enjoy this summer and see it through the eyes of a 2 and 4 year old. I am so blessed to be their mom and to stay home with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Julia mastering the monkey bars....&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SiZ88pfZRkI/AAAAAAAAA-k/W9j2yHvv_c0/s1600-h/5.29.09+002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343095389293200962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SiZ88pfZRkI/AAAAAAAAA-k/W9j2yHvv_c0/s400/5.29.09+002.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Julia &amp;amp; her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;BFF&lt;/span&gt;, Kylie&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SiZ88TFAohI/AAAAAAAAA-c/ttoyJohRxtM/s1600-h/5.29.09+006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343095383276954130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SiZ88TFAohI/AAAAAAAAA-c/ttoyJohRxtM/s400/5.29.09+006.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;The graduating Class&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343095380996507762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SiZ88KlTyHI/AAAAAAAAA-U/0INhB3z4lMM/s400/5.29.09+021.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Julia with her bubble wand&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SiZ87-I4IFI/AAAAAAAAA-M/mxARaIwm3U8/s1600-h/5.29.09+042.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343095377656029266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SiZ87-I4IFI/AAAAAAAAA-M/mxARaIwm3U8/s400/5.29.09+042.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&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/2282864000533678487-7978569640419485585?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/7978569640419485585/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=7978569640419485585' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/7978569640419485585'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/7978569640419485585'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/06/julias-last-day-of-preschool.html' title='Julia&apos;s last day of Preschool'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SiZ88pfZRkI/AAAAAAAAA-k/W9j2yHvv_c0/s72-c/5.29.09+002.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-1499908865636885739</id><published>2009-05-29T13:50:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T14:04:42.167-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Backyard Baseball</title><content type='html'>I know that I've said it before, but I love my neighbors and their kids. I am so looking forward to the summer when we all are around and the kids can play together all the time outside, getting that fresh air. They all run in a little pack and pretty much get along. I think it is so good for them to have playmates all around them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SiAiSwuRYQI/AAAAAAAAA98/8MDbwmeP1tc/s1600-h/5.23.09++(26).JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341306863773376770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SiAiSwuRYQI/AAAAAAAAA98/8MDbwmeP1tc/s400/5.23.09++(26).JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Last weekend, the kids put together an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;impromptu&lt;/span&gt; baseball game. Tim &amp;amp; Kurt helped out and tried to get all of the kids to play by the "rules" - it was so fun to watch them. They were having a great time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jimmy up to bat&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SiAhW6SMUkI/AAAAAAAAA9s/A2eMiefMQXU/s1600-h/5.25.09+004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341305835547808322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SiAhW6SMUkI/AAAAAAAAA9s/A2eMiefMQXU/s400/5.25.09+004.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jimmy getting on base&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341305819583064130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SiAhV-z5qEI/AAAAAAAAA9U/pYCyaMqpwDg/s400/5.25.09+007.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Julia at bat&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341305821776589090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SiAhWG-4MSI/AAAAAAAAA9c/JaWSD0b9l1g/s400/5.25.09+028.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Julia on base&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SiAhWtYlUQI/AAAAAAAAA9k/NoB1x6OdXH4/s1600-h/5.25.09+011.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341305832084951298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SiAhWtYlUQI/AAAAAAAAA9k/NoB1x6OdXH4/s400/5.25.09+011.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-1499908865636885739?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/1499908865636885739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=1499908865636885739' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/1499908865636885739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/1499908865636885739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/05/backyard-baseball.html' title='Backyard Baseball'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SiAiSwuRYQI/AAAAAAAAA98/8MDbwmeP1tc/s72-c/5.23.09++(26).JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-5161728649310617174</id><published>2009-05-14T21:22:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-14T21:41:01.921-04:00</updated><title type='text'>How Can You NOT Laugh?</title><content type='html'>Well, Julia's back at it again...coming out of her room a million times after we put her to bed at night. It first started when i put her to bed, within 1 minute she was at her door asking me "Who killed God?" This has been a conversation before, so I tell her that Pontius Pilate killed Jesus, God's Son. She then asked me (in her 4 yr old little voice) if "Pontius Pilate was ever a nice person" He probably was I say. Then she asks me all worried if he will kill her when she goes to Heaven. I explained that he probably wasn't in Heaven, but in another place...Hell. I had to tell her the word for it, what other word is there. Anyway, I left her in her room, her saying the word "Hell" over and over, trying to commit it to memory. That will go over good tomorrow at Preschool. I think this religious conversation was brought on by Julia's question while brushing her teeth - "Does God go with us to the store? Like does he help you pick out the cereal and stuff? She is so religious...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then about 20 minutes later, Kurt looks up and there she was....all dressed up at 8:30pm on the bridge just watching us. We were both laughing. Not what we should be doing when she really needs to be in bed....but she looked so funny.&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SgzEJUOIsHI/AAAAAAAAA9M/WJkO__mL16Q/s1600-h/001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335855322853060722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SgzEJUOIsHI/AAAAAAAAA9M/WJkO__mL16Q/s400/001.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I had to take her picture all dressed up in blankets, sunglasses and an old purse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SgzEJB7AKoI/AAAAAAAAA9E/8POaBkPsJHw/s1600-h/002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335855317940972162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SgzEJB7AKoI/AAAAAAAAA9E/8POaBkPsJHw/s400/002.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; ...and a hat on top of all of it. When we asked her what she was, she said she was an old woman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SgzEI90or9I/AAAAAAAAA88/U4NMi-iHzPw/s1600-h/004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335855316840525778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SgzEI90or9I/AAAAAAAAA88/U4NMi-iHzPw/s400/004.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; About 10 minutes later she was up on the bridge again yelling that she couldn't get her doll sweater off. She had put on a jacket that is for Bitty Baby (a small doll). Somehow she had both of her arms in the arm holes and it was pulling her shoulder blades back. How she ever got it on, I will never know. I think she's now asleep finally.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Did I mention that Jimmy hasn't napped in 2 days and he fell asleep in the car at 6:20? I was able to change his diaper and put PJs on him all while he was completely asleep. Poor little guy...he'll be up at 5am for sure! &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/2282864000533678487-5161728649310617174?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/5161728649310617174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=5161728649310617174' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/5161728649310617174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/5161728649310617174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/05/how-can-you-not-laugh.html' title='How Can You NOT Laugh?'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SgzEJUOIsHI/AAAAAAAAA9M/WJkO__mL16Q/s72-c/001.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-9165390271614630600</id><published>2009-05-11T00:06:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-11T00:18:56.938-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Crawfish Boil</title><content type='html'>Our good friends, Cherie &amp;amp; Shea, have an annual Crawfish Boil. He grew up in Louisiana, so he flies in some crawfish straight out of the bayou (or wherever they are) and cooks them up like little lobsters. I personally don't like the crawfish, I have tried them and kind of wanted to like them, but not so much anymore. This was the 7th annual party...I have not missed a party yet. This year's party was adults only, so it was a great night for all of us parents to kick back and get a little crazy. Cherie mixed up some Hurricanes and other concoctions...needless to say, I am not going to be partaking in any alcohol for a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cherie &amp;amp; Kate&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Sgek_UqdNyI/AAAAAAAAA8c/FWJtTRrkaVs/s1600-h/Crawfish+Boil+009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334413691429140258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Sgek_UqdNyI/AAAAAAAAA8c/FWJtTRrkaVs/s400/Crawfish+Boil+009.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Amy &amp;amp; Kate&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Sgek_CHpinI/AAAAAAAAA8U/lgdQkTRJ18c/s1600-h/Crawfish+Boil+014.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334413686451309170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Sgek_CHpinI/AAAAAAAAA8U/lgdQkTRJ18c/s400/Crawfish+Boil+014.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Our neighbors, Tim &amp;amp; Ellen, came with us this year to celebrate their first Boil. They actually know some of the same people that Cherie and Shea are friends with and they all attended the same New Year's Eve Party in 2001/2002. This was the same party that we almost went to, but were too tired from moving that day to go. Funny, we would have all met before we were neighbors. This photo of Ellen is so her...this is how I see her on a daily basis...she's so fun!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334413695472655858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Sgek_jugXfI/AAAAAAAAA8k/U6y26Bz3wYI/s400/Crawfish+Boil+005.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ellen &amp;amp; Kate&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Sgek-4KgBaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/md_LVbM6G00/s1600-h/Crawfish+Boil+016.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334413683778913698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Sgek-4KgBaI/AAAAAAAAA8M/md_LVbM6G00/s400/Crawfish+Boil+016.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Amy &amp;amp; Cherie&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Sgek-qHMo2I/AAAAAAAAA8E/3PJ2nbVPQLc/s1600-h/Crawfish+Boil+027.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334413680006964066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Sgek-qHMo2I/AAAAAAAAA8E/3PJ2nbVPQLc/s400/Crawfish+Boil+027.JPG" border="0" /&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/2282864000533678487-9165390271614630600?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/9165390271614630600/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=9165390271614630600' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/9165390271614630600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/9165390271614630600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/05/crawfish-boil.html' title='The Crawfish Boil'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Sgek_UqdNyI/AAAAAAAAA8c/FWJtTRrkaVs/s72-c/Crawfish+Boil+009.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-5645343254873433535</id><published>2009-05-10T23:44:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-11T00:05:40.231-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Julia's Big Debut!</title><content type='html'>Julia's first dance recital was on Friday night and it went without a hitch. She got up there and tapped and sang her little heart out. I was so proud of her and happy that her first recital was under her belt. While we were watching the first part of the recital, she kept wondering how old the kids were and when she would be in that group. It's not that I want her to be in dance, because that was a big part of my life as a kid. I want her to enjoy being part of something, working hard to accomplish goals and having a good time doing it. I have such great memories of my dance days and hope she has the same. Plus, there is nothing like seeing your little girl all dolled up in a tutu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Julia &amp;amp; Kate before the Recital&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SgefzaV33wI/AAAAAAAAA78/DIgrVtl4Tcw/s1600-h/IMG_0293_trimmed_redeyefixed.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334407989236850434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 287px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SgefzaV33wI/AAAAAAAAA78/DIgrVtl4Tcw/s400/IMG_0293_trimmed_redeyefixed.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We had a whole crowd come to watch her recital, but the most important guest was Olivia. Julia was pretty excited for her to come. Little did I know that Olivia would LOVE the recital just as much. She sat on Kurt's lap and watched the whole thing. She loved it. I couldn't believe that an almost 3 year old could sit that still for that long, that late at night. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SgefzIQfzjI/AAAAAAAAA70/4jUeRVcNzAg/s1600-h/IMG_0291_redeyefixed.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334407984382463538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SgefzIQfzjI/AAAAAAAAA70/4jUeRVcNzAg/s400/IMG_0291_redeyefixed.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Julia posing before going on stage&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SgefySHsTII/AAAAAAAAA7s/exxmLPWuOFg/s1600-h/Dance+Recital+012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334407969850018946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SgefySHsTII/AAAAAAAAA7s/exxmLPWuOFg/s400/Dance+Recital+012.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Jul&lt;/span&gt;ia &amp;amp; Raechel ready to go&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SgefyE_ZqMI/AAAAAAAAA7k/g2DI1iP-LtQ/s1600-h/Dance+Recital+007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334407966325582018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SgefyE_ZqMI/AAAAAAAAA7k/g2DI1iP-LtQ/s400/Dance+Recital+007.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;After the recital, Julia got bouquets from Grammie and Grandma. She accepted them just like a professional, holding them in the crook of her arm, talking to her adoring fans. Telling Kurt: "Daddy, I didn't know what I was doing up there!" But the cutest thing, was little Olivia, wanting some flowers of her own. Staving off a 10pm tantrum, I thought fast and asked Olivia if she wanted to wear Julia's costume (Julia had to take it off, since it was itchy). She was so excited and we now know who will be in dance next year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SgefxxURPhI/AAAAAAAAA7c/e_vj94X4oX4/s1600-h/IMG_0296.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334407961044401682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SgefxxURPhI/AAAAAAAAA7c/e_vj94X4oX4/s400/IMG_0296.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&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/2282864000533678487-5645343254873433535?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/5645343254873433535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=5645343254873433535' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/5645343254873433535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/5645343254873433535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/05/julias-big-debut.html' title='Julia&apos;s Big Debut!'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SgefzaV33wI/AAAAAAAAA78/DIgrVtl4Tcw/s72-c/IMG_0293_trimmed_redeyefixed.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-2384535467959164913</id><published>2009-05-10T23:30:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-11T00:27:29.762-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Field Trip on the Farm</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Sgeox7d_I_I/AAAAAAAAA8s/cVIcofJAmzY/s1600-h/022.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334404617299597810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SgecvI5YmfI/AAAAAAAAA7U/zde4J4WnHzc/s400/008.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Julia has had a ton of field trips this year. In fact, I think that there were a tad too many for my taste, but she didn't complain, so it's been good I guess. The last field trip of the year was to this farm that is located in the middle of suburbia. It's kind of funny actually, there is this farm situated in the middle of all of these subdivisions and schoolkids all over the area come to "experience" farm life. Complete with the constant reminders to use the purell after touching the animals. I think it all is kind of comical, growing up on a farm myself and going to school in a more rural area. The experience is in no way the same as what I experienced as a kid. I am pretty sure that I washed my hands when they were covered in dirt, but not because I touched a cat, horse or chicken. We have been to this farm before and Julia doesn't really like it. She is a city girl. She doesn't like the "smell" or the animals. I actually had to make her ride the horse. Perhaps she was being a primadonna, seeing as she has her "own" horse and doesn't need to ride a community horse. Who knows?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Sgecu4UD1KI/AAAAAAAAA7M/Y2D3KM-IwIQ/s1600-h/013.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334404612848080034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Sgecu4UD1KI/AAAAAAAAA7M/Y2D3KM-IwIQ/s400/013.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; All she wanted to do was play on the playground they have there. She loved the merry go round. I am sure if you ask her what her favorite part of the farm was, she'd tell you that she loved playing with her friends&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334418190708822466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SgepFNyU0cI/AAAAAAAAA80/wSdBUrPdNgM/s400/023.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SgecutdFIBI/AAAAAAAAA7E/EzC8cn6LuE0/s1600-h/024.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&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/2282864000533678487-2384535467959164913?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/2384535467959164913/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=2384535467959164913' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/2384535467959164913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/2384535467959164913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/05/field-trip-on-farm.html' title='Field Trip on the Farm'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SgecvI5YmfI/AAAAAAAAA7U/zde4J4WnHzc/s72-c/008.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-3397759118295155367</id><published>2009-05-10T23:19:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-10T23:30:50.299-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Julia's Four and a Half Birthday!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Sgea248CVsI/AAAAAAAAA68/Z1xQabQOknU/s1600-h/002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334402551431452354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Sgea248CVsI/AAAAAAAAA68/Z1xQabQOknU/s400/002.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Sgea2iXNCoI/AAAAAAAAA60/aQ5g0C0EzTg/s1600-h/003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5334402545371384450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Sgea2iXNCoI/AAAAAAAAA60/aQ5g0C0EzTg/s400/003.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Julia has been very aware of her age this past year. At preschool, when kids celebrate a birthday, she always asks who is 5, who is 4 1/2 and who is still 4. Well, Julia is one of the youngest in the class, so she has been constantly asking when she'd be 4 1/2. She even asked if she could celebrate her 4 1/2 birthday. I told her that we'd make some cookies and she could share them with her neighborhood friends on her 4 1/2 birthday. Anyway, it was meant to appease her and show her that she was finally 4 1/2. Kurt was not too happy about us celebrating a half birthday. I don't intend on doing it every year, just this one....since it was such a big deal at school. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now that she's 4 1/2, she wants to know when and what we're going to do for her 5&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; birthday. It kills me.&lt;br /&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/2282864000533678487-3397759118295155367?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/3397759118295155367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=3397759118295155367' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/3397759118295155367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/3397759118295155367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/05/julias-four-and-half-birthday.html' title='Julia&apos;s Four and a Half Birthday!'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/Sgea248CVsI/AAAAAAAAA68/Z1xQabQOknU/s72-c/002.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-5396206976110163975</id><published>2009-05-07T14:53:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-07T15:11:38.084-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Crazy Week.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;So if you're living under a rock, you haven't heard of the swine flu yet. For the past few weeks, it has been all over the news with maps of which states have been hit and how many confirmed cases there have been. There have been several deaths, but for the most part I think that it was a slow news week. Well, when the media hypes something, people get nervous. They thought that a high school student had contracted the virus and they in turn closed the schools for 2 days this week. They cleaned and disinfected things, but still - it was a little nuts. I had to call my mom (who is a nurse) to make sure that I wasn't under-reacting. I just made sure that the kids washed their hands a little more vigilantly. Anyway...the closure of the schools made the dress rehearsal of Julia's dance recital a little crazy, but things worked out and we're hoping that all goes well for the big event this Friday. I am pretty excited to see my little girl dancing. I just hope she dances and doesn't cry like she did at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;rehearsal&lt;/span&gt;. It was a little overwhelming for her. She did look cute though.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333159544965038802" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SgMwWZAgAtI/AAAAAAAAA6s/ZXtGUdPhJ28/s400/011.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Due to the relocation of Sunday's dress rehearsal, there is a run &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;thru&lt;/span&gt; tonight of the recital. I want Julia to go to get a feel for the place, so she &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;doesn't&lt;/span&gt; lose it on Friday night. But tonight is also the first night of soccer for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Julia&lt;/span&gt;. She can't miss the first day of soccer and Kurt is a coach, so it will be interesting. Did I mention that neither I or Kurt have ever played soccer in our lives? Again, should be interesting. So, our plan today is to go to the run through, hope she goes before we have to leave for soccer and then go to soccer and then come back for the rest of the run through. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Ahh&lt;/span&gt;, is this what happens when the kids get older? She's 4. God help us. Somewhere in there, we have to eat dinner.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Anyway...looking forward to the evening when it is all over and we've checked that box.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-5396206976110163975?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/5396206976110163975/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=5396206976110163975' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/5396206976110163975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/5396206976110163975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/05/crazy-week.html' title='Crazy Week.'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SgMwWZAgAtI/AAAAAAAAA6s/ZXtGUdPhJ28/s72-c/011.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-3939757016444398960</id><published>2009-04-26T21:06:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-26T21:14:43.025-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring has Sprung!</title><content type='html'>We have been getting tons of rain and a few nice warm days over here. As a result, the flowers and trees are in bloom finally and it is so great. It really puts a smile on my face to see all the bulbs I planted in the fall come up and see it all filled in nicely. I can't wait to see what else comes up in the next few weeks. I have a few things I'd like to do to our landscaping this spring, we shall see if I get around to it now or it happens in the fall. Regardless...I am just so happy spring is finally here and the relaxing days of summer are just around the corner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are my little green thumbs in training...they are good about helping me pick leaves out of the beds and spotting weeds. Jimmy is good about picking up (and throwing) rocks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SfUF9jV6NXI/AAAAAAAAA6k/3Lo_MMJeHN8/s1600-h/018.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329172289080145266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SfUF9jV6NXI/AAAAAAAAA6k/3Lo_MMJeHN8/s400/018.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SfUFtAa3SXI/AAAAAAAAA6c/IW_5rRErGjQ/s1600-h/014.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329172004827777394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SfUFtAa3SXI/AAAAAAAAA6c/IW_5rRErGjQ/s400/014.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SfUFs1ZLNJI/AAAAAAAAA6U/Fa6aYUCF6QA/s1600-h/003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329172001867904146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SfUFs1ZLNJI/AAAAAAAAA6U/Fa6aYUCF6QA/s400/003.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SfUFscLErRI/AAAAAAAAA6E/LxonI-JzDQw/s1600-h/016.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329171995097869586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SfUFscLErRI/AAAAAAAAA6E/LxonI-JzDQw/s400/016.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SfUFsCvR8OI/AAAAAAAAA58/3iF50-5i6UQ/s1600-h/012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329171988270412002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SfUFsCvR8OI/AAAAAAAAA58/3iF50-5i6UQ/s400/012.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-3939757016444398960?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/3939757016444398960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=3939757016444398960' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/3939757016444398960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/3939757016444398960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/04/spring-has-sprung.html' title='Spring has Sprung!'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SfUF9jV6NXI/AAAAAAAAA6k/3Lo_MMJeHN8/s72-c/018.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-3095737365059086039</id><published>2009-04-26T20:57:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-26T21:06:26.931-04:00</updated><title type='text'>If he wasn't so cute....</title><content type='html'>Jimmy has been a handful lately. He's been a little you know what. Kurt got a taste of how things have been this past week this weekend, so it's not just me. Anyway, he basically doesn't listen and whines a ton if something isn't the exact way he wants it to be. Anyway, the only thing that is keeping him alive is that he is so adorable. Really. I don't think I could possibly produce a more beautiful child...which is why I am done. He has the greatest smile and cutest voice. He just has the funniest stuff to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I was drinking a Diet Coke and he asked me what I was drinking...I told him "Diet Coke." Jimmy then held up his sippy cup and proclaimed "Diet Juice!"&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The other day he was sitting quietly in his room. I thought for sure something awful was going on, but he was sitting there reading 2 religious books (the only 2 in there of about 100) and he told me he was reading about God and that Jesus loves him.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;After his nap lately he wants to sit on the couch and just sort of wake up, but he does it like a little man, he kicks back with his back on the pillows and crosses his leg over his knee and just looks like he's done it for years. I am waiting for him to yell..."Kate, bring me a beer!"&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;He also has also been using the statement "I Hate...." lately. I don't like it, but if only you could hear his little voice saying "I hate lotion!" You would crack up.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-3095737365059086039?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/3095737365059086039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=3095737365059086039' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/3095737365059086039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/3095737365059086039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/04/if-he-wasnt-so-cute.html' title='If he wasn&apos;t so cute....'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-496326390106583444</id><published>2009-04-25T22:52:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-25T23:56:34.545-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I Went to the Prom!</title><content type='html'>My moms group sponsors an event called the Mom Prom. It's held at our church, we have a DJ and it's BYOB. The best part is that it's girls only, so tons of fun, mostly dancing to some great tunes from our youth. This is the 4th year that we've done it. The first year it was just a small group of us that dressed up for fun and went out to eat and then dancing. So many people stopped us and asked us what we were doing and said it looked like fun. One of our friends thought that this would be something that others would like to do, why not make it a full fledged prom and see if we could raise money for a local charity. Well, it has evolved into a pretty big deal and we raised alot of money in ticket sales for St. Vincent de Paul and a local women's shelter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did not keep any of my prom dresses from high school...although there were some real nice ones in there, not that I would be able to squeeze into them. I kept a handful of bridesmaid dresses for I don't know what. The first year we had Mom Prom, I wore a dress that i wore in my friend Nikki's wedding. It's actually a cute dress. Last year I really wanted a southern belle dress and found a pretty sweet looking one on eBay. This year I wanted a more glamorous, screaming late 80s, early 90s dress. I think I outdid myself with my eBay find. I was able to accessorize it with gloves I wore in my friend Jennie's wedding and jewelry I wore in my friend Erin's wedding, both from 1999. My hair was a creation all in it's own. I haven't seen that much height since the 90s.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SfPNCpwPWkI/AAAAAAAAA50/1YeNuW76Soc/s1600-h/004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328828229561047618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SfPNCpwPWkI/AAAAAAAAA50/1YeNuW76Soc/s400/004.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Ellen also found a dress on eBay and accessorized it with a few pieces from my vast collection of jewels. These were featured on myself in 1994, also worn with a black and white dress, that at the time I thought was "elegant" - it involved a short sweeping train. Such class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SfPNCeGGubI/AAAAAAAAA5s/ZVgfavTQDQk/s1600-h/003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328828226431531442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SfPNCeGGubI/AAAAAAAAA5s/ZVgfavTQDQk/s400/003.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The fun part about Mom Prom is going with your girlfriends. I am also lucky to call my neighbors friends. Here we are posing for the husbands &amp;amp; kiddos before we go off to the prom. Debbie (3rd from left) is wearing the dress I wore in my friend Jennie's wedding. Such a beauty. Cheryl (4th from left) is wearing one of our other friend's dresses. She described it as the dress that "most looked like a tablecloth" due to it's jacquard fabric.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SfPNCIKK-nI/AAAAAAAAA5k/T1sqYh5uNj0/s1600-h/008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328828220543007346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SfPNCIKK-nI/AAAAAAAAA5k/T1sqYh5uNj0/s400/008.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We all headed to eat at an Italian Restaurant before. We got a couple of stares and I think that our waiter was a little flustered by us. I am not sure if it was because we were all so beautiful or if he thought we looked ridiculous and he'd never do such a thing as this in all of his 23 years. Regardless, it was fun and we had a nice time. Much like the proms of our past, but with legal alcohol and minus the teen angst.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Once we got to the Prom, we got a table and about 10 of us gathered around and scoped out the situation. There were lots of dresses, some of which we had seen or had worn at one point in our youth. There were a few nice looking dresses that didn't qualify as hideous in my book. They actually looked nice. Anyway, I think part of the fun is making it a little silly...so I will continue to do so. Here I am showing off how glamorous I am with my Cosmo, gloves and bracelet in the church gym.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SfPNBxnp61I/AAAAAAAAA5c/9Lic3zj0wXc/s1600-h/012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328828214492654418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SfPNBxnp61I/AAAAAAAAA5c/9Lic3zj0wXc/s400/012.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Amy, Cherie &amp;amp; Lisa&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SfPNBkzI6lI/AAAAAAAAA5U/gILjjdjeNnI/s1600-h/017.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328828211051162194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SfPNBkzI6lI/AAAAAAAAA5U/gILjjdjeNnI/s400/017.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; These lovely ladies met us at the prom. They are some of my friends from my PreMom, Single days. Amy is wearing my dress from last year...it's quite a look. Cherie is wearing Cheryl's dress from last year that she also found on eBay and Lisa is wearing her original prom dress from 1991. They are looking pretty darn fancy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;But as I was dancing and just having a blast, I looked around the room and saw so many of my friends. It really hit me as I looked around. I have some pretty great friends...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My moms group friends&lt;/strong&gt; - are so critical to my sanity as a mom and have helped me really have a connection to our church community and our little suburb. These are the women I can just sit and talk about nothing with and just crack up. Not only do we share our faith in God, but we share the fact that we are stay at home moms and it's a hard job. So many think that it is easier than it is...but it's not. I need these women in my life...if for nothing more than that they get my life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My neighborhood friends&lt;/strong&gt;. We couldn't have picked a better depreciating neighborhood to throw money at. Regardless of plummeting home values, i look out my door (front and back) and know that I have some great people to count on (and their husbands are great too). They are all like family. We break bread, share bottles of wine, boxes of mac &amp;amp; cheese, jewelry, chairs, whatever. We yell at each other's kids. It's like a commune, but no hippy clothes and I shave daily.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My OLD Friends.&lt;/strong&gt; Cherie &amp;amp; Amy. When I say OLD, I mean it in the fact that we go back 9 years (but they are older than me, by less than a year, but still, older). I actually met Kurt on a night out with Amy. Had she not been chatting it up with some other guy when I walked into the bar, I probably wouldn't have gone up to get a drink on my own at the bar, thus running into a guy that thought I was just about it. Something I really needed at that point in my life...who would have thought that i'd marry him! Today, Amy &amp;amp; I have the pleasure of being married to hard core Tiger Fans and have attended our share of games. Amy introduced me to Cherie (her high school friend) and we became roommates. We had some good times at that apartment, a memorable home party, TV nights, a non-existent 3rd roommate, followed by an awful 3rd roommate who wasn't shy when it came to time with her boyfriend. She met her husband through Kurt &amp;amp; I. We still do tons of stuff together with our kids, but recognize that it's fun to do stuff without them too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Friends come and go in our lives, but really it's these relationships that sustain us. Even if you're not particularly close at that moment, what you had at one point helped you be who you are today. You never know when you meet someone what kind of impact they will have on your life. I looked at all of these girls and thought about how choices you make in life lead you down a certain path. I am so glad I chose a path with so many friends. I can't imagine my life without these fantastic ladies!&lt;/p&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/2282864000533678487-496326390106583444?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/496326390106583444/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=496326390106583444' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/496326390106583444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/496326390106583444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-went-to-prom.html' title='I Went to the Prom!'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SfPNCpwPWkI/AAAAAAAAA50/1YeNuW76Soc/s72-c/004.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-752309197210392722</id><published>2009-04-16T07:31:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-16T08:09:11.843-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I am Such a Morning Person!</title><content type='html'>Anyone that just read that title, knows either someone has hacked onto my blog or I have totally changed personalities. I am &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;SOOOOOOOOOO&lt;/span&gt; Not a morning person. I loathe getting out of bed every morning. I hate moving out of the soft, warm sheets. I hate interrupting my dreams. I have very vivid dreams most nights. It's like my own movies....every night. I actually look forward to it. Having to get out of bed puts an end to the show and forces me to attack the day. Now, when I say attack the day, i mean get out bed and make coffee. Seeing as how it is 2009, one would think that I would just set the timer on the coffee pot to have the coffee ready for when i meander downstairs...but I rarely do it. Why? Because if I set the coffee pot, then i won't get out of bed to get Kurt's coffee ready and I will sleep away the morning (or until the kids wake up). If I am forced to make coffee and put Kurt's lunch together, I will be awake enough in 10 minutes to function. I know, it's sort of crazy logic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lately, Julia has been waking up with Kurt. Kurt has known me a little longer than Julia and knows how to talk to me in the morning....in short bursts of repetitive sentences spread over about 20 minutes. Things like "Kate, get up!" "Kate, I need your help!" "Kate, I have to leave soon!" Nothing that requires any volley of conversation beyond a grunt to let him know that I have heard him. He knows that similar to how his body reacts at 8pm, mine is the same at 6am. We are polar opposites when it comes to our sleep patterns (among other things), he's a morning person and I am a night owl. Now, Julia doesn't get that you don't really "talk" to mommy in the morning. She wakes up ready to attack the day, cheerful, talking about whatever is important to a 4 year old (Going to Disney World, How she'll wear her hair, what she's eating for breakfast). Unfortunately, all of her talking requires responses and I can't deal with it until I have had my coffee. This morning was no exception. Kurt was running late and he put her in charge of waking me up. Bad move. She deviated from the short statements. She followed me downstairs with her incessant chatter. It took all i had to not tell her to SHUT UP (we don't use that word in our house). Here is a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;snippet&lt;/span&gt; of our conversation, rather her conversation with a zombie of a mom...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Julia Grace: Mom - Dad says to get up. Dad - she's not getting up. Mom get up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;a few minutes later, as I am stumbling down the hallway down the stairs to the kitchen&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JG: Mom, Do we have anything going on today? Mom, when are we going to Disney? I think that Jimmy would love to ride Splash Mountain. You can scream. He likes to scream. Don't you think that would be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;coool&lt;/span&gt;? Mom?&lt;br /&gt;Zombie Mom: &lt;em&gt;Trying to keep it cool and not yell...&lt;/em&gt;Julia, can you talk quietly inside your head for a few minutes?&lt;br /&gt;JG: Mom, I'd like to eat the Hannah Montana Cereal for breakfast. i am hungry. Mom, do you think Kylie would like to come over today? I hope she's not sick. Mom, can we watch &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Bearnstain&lt;/span&gt; this morning? Mom, what day is today? Is it the weekend?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;ZM&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;em&gt;Fumbling with the coffee, eyes half closed...&lt;/em&gt;Julia can you please go upstairs and talk to Daddy?&lt;br /&gt;JG: &lt;em&gt;Cheerfully runs upstairs to bug him about when we're going to Disney so he can silently scream in his head.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Ahh&lt;/span&gt;, silence...that's what i need...about 8 minutes of silence, making lunch, waiting for the coffee to brew...by the time I am ready for my cup I can function, Julia can ask all the questions she wants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In addition to Julia's interrogations, Jimmy also got up. He's not a morning person. He wakes up like me, disoriented and you don't really talk to him much. We had a breakdown in communication regarding cereal this morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheerful Stay at Home Mom: Jimmy, what kind of cereal do you want?&lt;br /&gt;Caveman Jimmy: &lt;em&gt;Scowl&lt;/em&gt; My own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;CSAHM&lt;/span&gt;: What flavor, Cheerios, Cocoa Puffs, Mini &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Wheats&lt;/span&gt; or Hannah Montana?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;CJ&lt;/span&gt;: I want my own!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;CSAHM&lt;/span&gt;: I know, but what kind?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;CJ&lt;/span&gt;: MY OWN!&lt;br /&gt;Yelling &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;SAHM&lt;/span&gt;: What. Kind. of. Cereal. do. you. want?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;CJ&lt;/span&gt;: MY OWN!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I gave up. After 15 minutes of the same conversation, he eventually picked. But not after sounding pathetic with big tears on his face. Gosh, to be 2. Life is pretty tough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, top of the morning to all of you! May your mornings be filled with silence and a big ole cup of coffee (better yet with fat free french vanilla cream).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-752309197210392722?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/752309197210392722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=752309197210392722' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/752309197210392722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/752309197210392722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-am-such-morning-person.html' title='I am Such a Morning Person!'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-3486531627106116647</id><published>2009-04-14T21:59:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T22:25:20.619-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Easter</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SeVAI4RXGTI/AAAAAAAAA5M/dXGvKk-0BY4/s1600-h/002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324732655723813170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SeVAI4RXGTI/AAAAAAAAA5M/dXGvKk-0BY4/s400/002.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We decided to spend Easter in my hometown to spend time with Papa and Grandma Cindy before they left for vacation. We spent the night on Saturday at my mom's, so we didn't have to make the drive in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SeVAIsuuAfI/AAAAAAAAA5E/xqaxUurw26s/s1600-h/004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324732652625723890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SeVAIsuuAfI/AAAAAAAAA5E/xqaxUurw26s/s400/004.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; After church. we headed out to the farm where we ate and let the kids play and enjoy the sun. They had a great time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SeVAIZaA3aI/AAAAAAAAA48/WljFDdlhwl0/s1600-h/014.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324732647438605730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SeVAIZaA3aI/AAAAAAAAA48/WljFDdlhwl0/s400/014.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SeVAIMnujvI/AAAAAAAAA40/ob13sVLKrNg/s1600-h/012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324732644006465266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SeVAIMnujvI/AAAAAAAAA40/ob13sVLKrNg/s400/012.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; My sister also took some great pictures and posted them &lt;a href="http://travisandlibby.blogspot.com/2009/04/happy-easter.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; on her blog.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After spending the early afternoon with my family, we headed back home to spend some time with Kurt's family. We celebrated his Aunt &amp;amp; Uncle's (also Kurt's Godfather) 50&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; Wedding Anniversary. They married later in life and I am sure that they never thought they'd make it to 50 years. As always, there was so much food. Always way more than we could possibly eat. I guess that is a good thing, but it gets to the point where you have to laugh packing it all up. I will look forward to making the Ham Bone Soup that I love to make - get the recipe &lt;a href="http://allrecipes.com/Recipe/After-the-Holidays-Ham-Bone-Soup/Detail.aspx"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;. It's easy and really good! I look forward to it every year.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sunday night brought lots of organizing of toys and candy that came to us from all of those that want to give the little ones some Easter treats. We love that everyone loves the kids, but sometimes it is a little overwhelming...all the stuff. Anyone that knows Kurt, knows he just loves to surround himself with clutter and kid stuff (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;hahaha&lt;/span&gt;). Anyway, we now have so much candy and chocolate...I am going to have to dole it out slowly and hopefully refrain from eating too much of it myself.&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/2282864000533678487-3486531627106116647?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/3486531627106116647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=3486531627106116647' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/3486531627106116647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/3486531627106116647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/04/easter.html' title='Easter'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SeVAI4RXGTI/AAAAAAAAA5M/dXGvKk-0BY4/s72-c/002.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-2035634751677400529</id><published>2009-04-14T21:51:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T21:59:32.119-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Easter Egg Hunt</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SeU-Q34TabI/AAAAAAAAA4k/1kegDkDJyB8/s1600-h/022.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324730594034411954" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SeU-Q34TabI/AAAAAAAAA4k/1kegDkDJyB8/s400/022.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; As a kid I never hunted for Easter Eggs. I know this for a fact. I am sure that my mom will say that we did...but I know that we didn't. We dyed eggs, we decorated with them, but there was never a hunt for eggs. I can't have that for our kids...they will hunt for Easter Eggs...they will have fun doing it. So i told the girls that I wanted to do it and we put it together. The kids had fun, too bad it was FREEZING COLD! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Kids Patiently Waiting to Start&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SeU-QuvNJLI/AAAAAAAAA4c/58wv-UJxVjY/s1600-h/024.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324730591580333234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SeU-QuvNJLI/AAAAAAAAA4c/58wv-UJxVjY/s400/024.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SeU-QC0gXQI/AAAAAAAAA4U/0I101KipoRk/s1600-h/042.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324730579791404290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SeU-QC0gXQI/AAAAAAAAA4U/0I101KipoRk/s400/042.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SeU-P0S2MAI/AAAAAAAAA4M/WWTxm2aoYE4/s1600-h/046.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324730575892131842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SeU-P0S2MAI/AAAAAAAAA4M/WWTxm2aoYE4/s400/046.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SeU-Pr3tgXI/AAAAAAAAA4E/5h-3QEgxIiw/s1600-h/050.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324730573630833010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SeU-Pr3tgXI/AAAAAAAAA4E/5h-3QEgxIiw/s400/050.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hopefully the kids will have great memories of Easter Egg hunts with their neighborhood friends for the year's to come. I don't want to repeat the cycle of my childhood. I mean, no egg hunt? What kind of parents did I have?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&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/2282864000533678487-2035634751677400529?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/2035634751677400529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=2035634751677400529' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/2035634751677400529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/2035634751677400529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/04/easter-egg-hunt.html' title='Easter Egg Hunt'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SeU-Q34TabI/AAAAAAAAA4k/1kegDkDJyB8/s72-c/022.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-7628323720702181176</id><published>2009-04-14T21:27:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T21:48:16.620-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Visiting The Farm</title><content type='html'>Last Thursday we made the trek to the Farm to visit Papa and Grandma Cindy. Normally this wouldn't be all that out of the ordinary, but we thought we'd make the visit because the day after Easter, they left for a vacation...for 5 months! We aren't going to see them for 5 months! They will be part of a group that will be riding their horses from the Mexican border to the Canadian Border. They will be riding a little bit every day and sleeping in their camper at night. It should be a great experience for them. They are also blogging their trip, so check it out from time to time. Anyway...the kids had to check out where they'd be living for the next few months.  They also brought lots of artwork to decorate the camper with. Julia had fun picking where to hang everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Playing on the Couch/Bed/Kitchenette&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SeU5r1q1nuI/AAAAAAAAA38/_rJ0rIaQZnA/s1600-h/005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324725559739391714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SeU5r1q1nuI/AAAAAAAAA38/_rJ0rIaQZnA/s400/005.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A trip to the farm wouldn't be complete without a ride on Noah...thankfully he was still there. He will be staying at another farm while they are gone. Hopefully it will work out, since i am sure that my cousins (who are &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;house sitting&lt;/span&gt;) would not want to take care of a horse too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Julia &amp;amp; Papa&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SeU5rZ37RaI/AAAAAAAAA30/Am8QXPASZYk/s1600-h/024.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324725552278095266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SeU5rZ37RaI/AAAAAAAAA30/Am8QXPASZYk/s400/024.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jimmy &amp;amp; a Cat..&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SeU5q56eCZI/AAAAAAAAA3s/DY9KYp5bUi0/s1600-h/025.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324725543698827666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SeU5q56eCZI/AAAAAAAAA3s/DY9KYp5bUi0/s400/025.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Julia &amp;amp; Grandma Cindy&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SeU5qrMkQzI/AAAAAAAAA3k/aU0mm2aw85o/s1600-h/035.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324725539748201266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SeU5qrMkQzI/AAAAAAAAA3k/aU0mm2aw85o/s400/035.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jimmy, Papa &amp;amp; Julia playing with the cats&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SeU5qcxSXzI/AAAAAAAAA3c/Vbett5WbYpM/s1600-h/044.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5324725535875686194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SeU5qcxSXzI/AAAAAAAAA3c/Vbett5WbYpM/s400/044.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kids had a great time playing outside and playing in the Camper. I am sure they will really miss Papa and Grandma Cindy while they are gone. Jimmy loves going to Papa's and talks about it at least every other day. Hopefully they will get the concept of "vacation" and that they will be back...5 months is a long time for a little kid and a big one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&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/2282864000533678487-7628323720702181176?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/7628323720702181176/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=7628323720702181176' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/7628323720702181176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/7628323720702181176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/04/visiting-farm.html' title='Visiting The Farm'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SeU5r1q1nuI/AAAAAAAAA38/_rJ0rIaQZnA/s72-c/005.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-5922986218315950003</id><published>2009-04-14T13:08:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T21:26:56.980-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Phrases the Kids Say and What they Mean</title><content type='html'>The kids say the strangest things if you don't know what they are talking about. They require some translation...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Shaker Cheese Please!&lt;/strong&gt; We buy the giant canister of Kraft Parmesan Cheese from Costco and it gets replaced about every month or so. The kids put it on everything. They prefer the powdery kind to the fresh grated stuff. Anyway...they request "Shaker Cheese" on just about everything.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I want a Big Ball! &lt;/strong&gt;See #1 - the shaker cheese gets balls of cheese and the kids like to eat the big balls of cheese. The challenge is to eat it without it breaking.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I'm gonna put you in the garbage. &lt;/strong&gt;Somehow a few months back, we told Julia that we found her in the garbage when she was a baby. I have no idea why we said that...we were of course joking. But she went with it and asked all sorts of questions about it. Anyway, she knew we were joking and it got funnier and funnier. Well, Jimmy caught on and thought it would be funny to tell everyone that he's "Gonna Put You in the Garbage!" Kind of inappropriate, but it's funny in his little voice.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;These little phrases and things they say and do I hope that I never forget, but I am sure that I will...thank GOD that I am blogging and keeping a record so I can smile in 25 years.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-5922986218315950003?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/5922986218315950003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=5922986218315950003' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/5922986218315950003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/5922986218315950003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/04/phrases-kids-say-and-what-they-mean.html' title='Phrases the Kids Say and What they Mean'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-5007089709187639462</id><published>2009-04-08T07:34:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T07:46:11.094-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Julia in Makeup</title><content type='html'>Saturday Julia had her dance pictures taken. Her recital isn't for another month, but they do the pictures early enough so we get them before classes end for the year. We have had her costume for a few weeks, but she really wasn't interested in trying it on for more than 1 minute, because it was scratchy. I was worried that the pictures were going to be a disaster.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was before I realized that she was going to get to wear makeup. She was so jazzed about getting to wear makeup that I could have wrapped her body in steel wool. We started to get ready about an hour and a half before we needed to go, because I was still anticipating disaster. O put her hair in hot rollers (a first) and then applied her makeup. Not really sure how much to put on or how to do it for a 4 year old. I didn't want her to look like a Jon Benet or versions of Lib and I as kids when our mom did our makeup for our dance recitals. Back then, there wasn't as much concern about what people would think about the kids makeup, what kind of parents you were, what creep was ogling your baby in drag. My mom piled on the makeup on us and i remember my face hurting from it all. I didn't want Julia's first experience with makeup to be that...so i toned my inner Maggie (my mom) down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The end result was perfect. Did I mention that while I was trying to get her ready, Kurt was running in a 5K? Jimmy was running around acting crazy, Julia was having a hard time sitting still. Thank GOD for TV. The only snag was when Kurt came home and Julia was not listening and she got yelled at and started to cry....but she had full makeup on. I got her to stop before too much damage was done, but it came in the form of a Happy Meal Promise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, here is out little Living Doll...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SdyMUi6OUKI/AAAAAAAAA3U/Iyv8waflOnY/s1600-h/004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322283144241369250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SdyMUi6OUKI/AAAAAAAAA3U/Iyv8waflOnY/s400/004.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SdyMUCGuxnI/AAAAAAAAA3M/gZScR9LH5Wc/s1600-h/005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322283135435458162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SdyMUCGuxnI/AAAAAAAAA3M/gZScR9LH5Wc/s400/005.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SdyMUCvrC3I/AAAAAAAAA3E/ferAm7v6ZI8/s1600-h/006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322283135607180146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SdyMUCvrC3I/AAAAAAAAA3E/ferAm7v6ZI8/s400/006.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SdyMT_XQKHI/AAAAAAAAA28/u8vmEK1fu9g/s1600-h/008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322283134699448434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SdyMT_XQKHI/AAAAAAAAA28/u8vmEK1fu9g/s400/008.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SdyMTprPDII/AAAAAAAAA20/_14GpD9Vbss/s1600-h/013.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322283128877681794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SdyMTprPDII/AAAAAAAAA20/_14GpD9Vbss/s400/013.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-5007089709187639462?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/5007089709187639462/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=5007089709187639462' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/5007089709187639462'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/5007089709187639462'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/04/julia-in-makeup.html' title='Julia in Makeup'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SdyMUi6OUKI/AAAAAAAAA3U/Iyv8waflOnY/s72-c/004.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-5374995628803776003</id><published>2009-04-03T13:16:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-03T13:35:47.218-04:00</updated><title type='text'>TGIF and Ramblings...</title><content type='html'>Today is cold and rainy....a stark contrast to yesterday, which was warm and sunny. Just add it to the 100 reasons why I hate Spring in this state!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MSU is in the Final Four, which is being held downtown at Ford Field this weekend. Kurt is pretty excited...I am too, but he's a huge MSU sports fan. He may be getting tickets for Saturday's game, but won't know until tomorrow probably. But his buddy got him into a private party at Comerica Park to watch the game...which isn't such a bad deal. He does have a ticket to Monday's final game if MSU wins...that is pretty cool too. It will be a great guy bonding weekend for him!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Julia is at a playdate at a friend's house today, Jimmy is out of sorts without her. He told me he heard the doorbell ring and it was  Julia back from her playdate. He doesn't want alone time with me, he misses rolling around and chasing Julia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jimmy was looking at the back of my laptop as I was surfing facebook afterlunch and brought his cars over to the back of it and said that the USB and other ports in the back of the laptop were garages...probably not a good idea to leave it unattended now...how do you explain that problem to Dell?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our friends, Doug, Kelly and Paige, are leaving for Florida today...they are going to spend at week at Disney World. Julia won't stop talking about the next time we go to Disney. It is constant and it is starting to get on our nerves. We've told her that we're not going back until Jimmy is 6 or 7. We've also told her that it costs alot of money to go there and that we're saving our money. Her response is that she too is saving ALL of her money for Disney too. Nevermind that we aren't going to take another big vacation and go to Disney anytime soon. Kurt &amp;amp; I are resort vacationers...that is our idea of a vacation...drinks by the pool, reading a good book, dining out, maybe a little excursion. We won't...I repeat...WILL NOT go back to Disney until I go on that type of vacation. Money's tight (we are in a recession), but I will hold fast to my dreams. If we don't have enough money, perhaps we'll just have to leave the kids at home with the grandparents...darn it. Sounds like my kind of vacation to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our friends also borrowed my car, since there is more room inside and the miles are free (thanks to Kurt's company leases). Anyway, so I am rolling this week in a super fly Lincoln MKS...I feel like I am too good for this town. What kind of stay at home mom drives a fancy car like that? We all drive SUVs, minivans, and the occasional mid size car, not pimped out sedans. I didn't realize that I had such bling taste until I drove this car...perhaps we will have to re-think our next lease, nix the practical 6 passenger seating for dual moon roofs, navigation and a THX sound system. I better not voice my opinion too much, because Kurt loves the car too and all I have to do is say the word and he's ordering one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-5374995628803776003?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/5374995628803776003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=5374995628803776003' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/5374995628803776003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/5374995628803776003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/04/tgif-and-ramblings.html' title='TGIF and Ramblings...'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-3592465902692119599</id><published>2009-03-30T14:02:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T14:10:42.732-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Jimmy's Got a Crush!</title><content type='html'>Jimmy is obsessed with our friend's daughter (and Julia's friend), Paige. Out of the blue he'll tell us he wants to go to Paige's house and watch Cars. I figured it was because they have a fancy home theater...now I know that isn't true, I have seen him in action. He's besotted with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Paige and her dad, Doug, came over yesterday to watch MSU beat the pants off of Louisville. While the guys were doing guy stuff (and using my facebook account to check out other people's facebook pictures), the kids played together. Jimmy was all about Paige and giving her stuff and just tagging along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he woke up from his nap, they were gone and he was so sad. Here is a snippet of our conversation:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jimmy: Where's Paig-ee?&lt;br /&gt;Kate: She went home with her dad.&lt;br /&gt;Jimmy: (Frown)&lt;br /&gt;Kate: Do you like Paige?&lt;br /&gt;Jimmy: Yes.&lt;br /&gt;Kate: Do you think she's pretty?&lt;br /&gt;Jimmy: Yes! (smiles)&lt;br /&gt;Kate: Do you think Mommy's pretty?&lt;br /&gt;Jimmy: No, mommy's yucky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If that isn't love...I don't' know what is. I can just see the future now...Jimmy will be hanging out with Julia and Paige and willing to do just about whatever they want to let him hang out with them....just to be near Paige. Never mind that she is an older woman...she can be his Mrs. Robinson.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-3592465902692119599?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/3592465902692119599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=3592465902692119599' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/3592465902692119599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/3592465902692119599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/03/jimmys-got-crush.html' title='Jimmy&apos;s Got a Crush!'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-4702268805215013827</id><published>2009-03-30T13:48:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-30T14:02:43.417-04:00</updated><title type='text'>And I Have My LIfe Back...Sort of...</title><content type='html'>So, this past weekend was the big Mom2Mom Sale at my church. This sale consumes me for weeks before the sale. But every year it is so worth it while it is going on. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;You&lt;/span&gt; see so many people buying and selling. Happy to have found some deals. Happy to have gotten what they needed. Happy to have unloaded excess stuff and make some money. But it is always the people that I see that NEED these sales. Circumstances have put them in the position where they can't just run up to Target and buy the gadgets and clothes their kids need. They depend on Garage Sales and Mom2Mom Sales to buy what they need. Those are the people that I do it for and make me feel good about all the time that I spend on organizing a sale. I like the deals too, but I can head up to Target and buy what I need too, so I don't need it as much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year I had a little table of random baby toys and baby things. Not &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;alot&lt;/span&gt; of stuff, nothing that will be missed really. I ended up making a tidy little sum on that bunch of nothing. Makes me excited about the sale to come when i can unload all of these clothes. One day....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took this sale over 4 years ago and didn't really have that much direction as to how a sale should be run or how it needed to be done. I kind of started from nothing with my friend Christine (Desperate &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Swisswives&lt;/span&gt;). We laid it all out and organized the sale in the way that we'd like to have it as shoppers or sellers. I don't think we do much out of the norm - maybe a few nice things here and there, but for the most part it seems pretty standard stuff to me. Well, according to lot of sellers and buyers, our sale is tops. It's nice to hear and makes me feel good for all of the time and effort I put into it, but it does make me wonder what these other sale organizers are doing and why it is so hard for them to put on an oranized event. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;This&lt;/span&gt; was the first year without Christine, since she's living her fabulous European life now...but we pulled it off and it seemed like the best sale yet. We are lucky to have a core group of volunteers that give of their time every year and I can depend on them to get the job done. Thanks to them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So glad to have my life back. So glad to not have to make lists, add to lists, contact sellers, organize volunteers. Now, I need to clean my house and take a few breaths.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-4702268805215013827?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/4702268805215013827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=4702268805215013827' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/4702268805215013827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/4702268805215013827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/03/and-i-have-my-life-backsort-of.html' title='And I Have My LIfe Back...Sort of...'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-8160399067415552876</id><published>2009-03-25T07:10:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-25T07:21:33.077-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I Want My Life Back...</title><content type='html'>This is such a crazy week. I simply cannot wait until it is over. This is the week of the annual Mom2Mom Sale at my church that I organize. It is a massive undertaking and every year I say that I am not going to do it again. But next year I really think I will have to pass on the torch to some other energetic Type A mom. This will be the 4&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; sale that I have organized and while I have a system in place and a great core set of people that help me...I am just not that into it. It takes so much of my time that I could be doing things that I truly love.  This year, I made a resolution to step back and only do stuff that i wanted to do and not feel such obligation to do so much volunteering. I think I have done a great job and cutting out stuff. I have decided to not do co-op preschool next year and step away from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;alot&lt;/span&gt; of my moms group day to day stuff. I am getting good at saying no and it feels a little empowering...for my family. It's not that I don't like giving back, I just have done it so much that I feel a little burned out.  Okay...just a few more days and M2M Sale 2009 will be behind me. Then I may have my life back.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-8160399067415552876?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/8160399067415552876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=8160399067415552876' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/8160399067415552876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/8160399067415552876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-want-my-life-back.html' title='I Want My Life Back...'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-5232269563686792456</id><published>2009-03-17T23:59:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-18T00:04:29.319-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Rollin' in my Coupe...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/ScByJEqolpI/AAAAAAAAA2s/BkQ7ai83s1E/s1600-h/010.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314373060494136978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/ScByJEqolpI/AAAAAAAAA2s/BkQ7ai83s1E/s400/010.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/ScByI9mNCzI/AAAAAAAAA2k/3u5o26rumcc/s1600-h/008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314373058596506418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/ScByI9mNCzI/AAAAAAAAA2k/3u5o26rumcc/s400/008.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/ScByIrRgx_I/AAAAAAAAA2c/vDZPeGCnSUs/s1600-h/004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314373053677881330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/ScByIrRgx_I/AAAAAAAAA2c/vDZPeGCnSUs/s400/004.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/ScByIQwt1yI/AAAAAAAAA2U/L2oHkmWA9nw/s1600-h/003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314373046561003298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/ScByIQwt1yI/AAAAAAAAA2U/L2oHkmWA9nw/s400/003.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/ScByIUTHWkI/AAAAAAAAA2M/UwNNnhSuh2E/s1600-h/001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314373047510587970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/ScByIUTHWkI/AAAAAAAAA2M/UwNNnhSuh2E/s400/001.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Jimmy loves his Cozy Coupe...it actually was purchased for Julia when she was 2, but she really never got into it as much as he does. I took these photos on Monday and he was quite perplexed as to why he needed to stay on the driveway and sidewalk and couldn't drive the car in the road like the other cars. I caught him tooling down the road a few times. Time to install the invisible fence and give him a fancy necklace.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-5232269563686792456?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/5232269563686792456/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=5232269563686792456' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/5232269563686792456'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/5232269563686792456'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/03/rollin-in-my-coupe.html' title='Rollin&apos; in my Coupe...'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/ScByJEqolpI/AAAAAAAAA2s/BkQ7ai83s1E/s72-c/010.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-6715374979341053873</id><published>2009-03-12T23:11:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-12T23:18:24.112-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Interview with Julia - Age 4</title><content type='html'>On facebook, there are always all of these cute little surveys to post on your "wall."  This particular one was so cute, especially with the answers the kids give their moms. I thought it was worth reposting on here for those of you who don't use facebook...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SbnPA3W3sEI/AAAAAAAAA2E/2RzjVAS-nc8/s1600-h/052.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312504849227034690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SbnPA3W3sEI/AAAAAAAAA2E/2RzjVAS-nc8/s400/052.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;1.What is something Mom always says to you? Turn off the movie.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2. What makes Mom happy? Surprises&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3. What makes Mom sad? Using the word “Shut Up”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4. How does your Mom make you laugh? Tickles&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5. What was your Mom like as a child? She was into Barbies&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;6.How old is your Mom?40&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;7.How tall is your Mom? 30 inches&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;8. What is her favorite thing to do? Clean up the House&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;9. What does your Mom do when you're not around? Clean the clothes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;10. If your Mom becomes famous, what will it be for? Nothing, you’re not famous.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;11. What is your Mom really good at? Making beds.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;12. What is your Mom not very good at? Knitting&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;13. What does your Mom do for her job? She cleans up the garage&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;14. What is your Mom's favorite food? Chicken and Rice&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;15. Wha makes you proud of your Mom? When she cleans up my room.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;16. If your Mom were a cartoon character, who would she be? A slipper maker.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;17. What do you and your Mom do together? Do puzzles&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;18. How are you and your Mom the same? I like laundry. You like Laundry.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;19. How are you and your Mom different? Our hair is different.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;20. How do you know your Mom loves you? Because I am cute.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;21. What does your Mom like most about your Dad? His work.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;22. Where is your mom's favorite place to go?Bates (Hamburgers)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Very interesting answers...apparently all i do is clean :-).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-6715374979341053873?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/6715374979341053873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=6715374979341053873' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/6715374979341053873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/6715374979341053873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/03/interview-with-julia-age-4.html' title='Interview with Julia - Age 4'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SbnPA3W3sEI/AAAAAAAAA2E/2RzjVAS-nc8/s72-c/052.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-6015932840415890481</id><published>2009-03-09T10:13:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-09T10:20:27.070-04:00</updated><title type='text'>34 is old?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SbUkGTYcEEI/AAAAAAAAA18/5IuduuRiTOE/s1600-h/008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5311191026253959234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SbUkGTYcEEI/AAAAAAAAA18/5IuduuRiTOE/s400/008.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Another year older, no biggie, right? Well according to Julia, it is a big deal. Last night as I was tucking her in, this is our conversation:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kate: Wow! We sure had a fun day today, huh?&lt;br /&gt;Julia (Drama Queeen): Mom! I don't want you to get old! You're getting old!&lt;br /&gt;K: I am not old honey.&lt;br /&gt;DQ: You're not 33 now, you're 34! I don't want your face to get all....(&lt;em&gt;places hands on face and makes it all scrunched...fake crying no tears commence).&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;K: Don't worry, I won't get old like that for a while.&lt;br /&gt;DQ: Mom, what are we doing tomorrow&lt;em&gt; (fake crying stopped and on to next method of stalling bedtime).&lt;/em&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-6015932840415890481?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/6015932840415890481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=6015932840415890481' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/6015932840415890481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/6015932840415890481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/03/34-is-old.html' title='34 is old?'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SbUkGTYcEEI/AAAAAAAAA18/5IuduuRiTOE/s72-c/008.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-5885423082206760583</id><published>2009-03-09T09:59:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-09T10:04:35.435-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Captain Underpants...</title><content type='html'>I was alerted by the web administrator in our home (Kurt) that there was a picture of Julia in her underwear on the blog. Super cute picture of my girl in action...but her underwear were showing. So innocent. I am sure that it was not offensive to people, but unfortunately it may be misconstrued or misused by some. What is this world coming to? What is wrong with people when I have to worry about a cute picture of my kid being herself? So sad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-5885423082206760583?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/5885423082206760583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=5885423082206760583' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/5885423082206760583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/5885423082206760583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/03/captain-underpants.html' title='Captain Underpants...'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-8499693659346398051</id><published>2009-03-06T08:36:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-09T11:19:51.671-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Our World Is Safe!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SbEnKrsXPGI/AAAAAAAAA1s/GFdNxW5F8rQ/s1600-h/005.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SbEnKdE0E_I/AAAAAAAAA1k/7CyJJeWBhqQ/s1600-h/002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310068496203518962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SbEnKdE0E_I/AAAAAAAAA1k/7CyJJeWBhqQ/s400/002.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;With all the doom and gloom lately in our world, my kids are single handedly protecting us all....rather Wonder Woman and Batman are. It is no secret that Julia is totally into Superheroes. Jimmy will do whatever, as long as he is included, so naturally he is also into Superheroes. Julia's fascination with the Justice League probably started with our old neighbor Will and his personal obsession. I actually think it is a good thing for her. It gets her seeing that girls are strong and that girls can do what boys do. Recently when we were at the library, she spotted a the original Wonder Woman TV Series (with Linda Carter). She LOVES it! It is actually funny to watch, she calls it the "Real Live Wonder Woman." My favorite thing about her love of superheros is that she runs around in this costume and "acts" out saving the world. She has a makeshift lasso and puts her arms up to use her power bracelets to block "guns" - it is just so flippin cute.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So rest soundly, the kids are keeping us safe&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-8499693659346398051?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/8499693659346398051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=8499693659346398051' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/8499693659346398051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/8499693659346398051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/03/our-world-is-safe.html' title='Our World Is Safe!'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SbEnKdE0E_I/AAAAAAAAA1k/7CyJJeWBhqQ/s72-c/002.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-1212442151308457974</id><published>2009-03-05T14:00:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-05T14:04:45.625-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I LOVE my Job!</title><content type='html'>Being a parent is like riding a roller coaster, there are great highs and great lows. Today has been a great high. We have just had a great day so far, the kids have been behaving, we ran an errand and they listened, my house is somewhat clean, Jimmy is napping and I know what I am making for dinner. Not everyday is like this....most days are not. It is days like today when I am just so thankful to be a stay at home mom and be able to spend time with my kids. I will takes these days as I can get them...because I know there will be a few doozies that will test my patience and make me want to go back to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To top it all off, I got a great deal on some Lands End coats today...2 coats for $40....which I desperately needed for next fall/winter. Gotta love this crappy economy and over-stocked department stores.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-1212442151308457974?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/1212442151308457974/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=1212442151308457974' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/1212442151308457974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/1212442151308457974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-love-my-job.html' title='I LOVE my Job!'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-7940856418008816553</id><published>2009-02-25T06:50:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-25T07:10:29.894-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ash Wednesday...</title><content type='html'>So today is the official first day of Lent...40 days until Easter. It's a beginning of a big time for Christians...a time of reflection and sacrifice. I became Catholic 5 years ago, right after Kurt &amp;amp; I were married. We were married in a Catholic Church and you sign this piece of paper that says you will raise your children Catholic if you get married in a Catholic Church. I thought that it was sort of wrong that I raise my kids in one faith, while i was another. Also, Kurt was probably unlikely to become something else, as being Catholic is like being Italian...you are what you are. Plus Catholics always sort of seemed cool...the rituals, the statues, the candles....it was sort of mystical to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was raised Baptist. We went to church every Sunday and my family was (and still is) very active in their church. Lent for me growing up was like a party for the whole 40 days. There were potlucks every Thursday at church (got to love the Potluck) and the anticipation of Easter was exciting. The Catholics have a different take on Lent and it is all about sacrifice and reflection. There are no parties. There are no potlucks. There is just prayer and prayer and mass. Catholics give up something during Lent typically, but I don't. I use the time during Lent to really go above and beyond and do good for others...random acts of kindness. I am reminded as I do these good deeds of the sacrifices that were made for me to live this awesome life. Is it right that I don't deny myself something like Coke, Candy, Sweets or whatever? I don't think so...it's all about being a good Christian.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think that I will ever be FULL ON Catholic. I will always have my strong foundation as a Baptist that grounds me and is the core of my being. I love that I know the Bible forwards and backwards, unlike many of my Catholic friends. Thank you Sunday School and Camp &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Lael&lt;/span&gt;! I do like the ritual of being Catholic. I like the ritual of mass.&lt;em&gt;  &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, being Catholic has helped me (hopefully) make my husband a little more aware of his religion. He is typical...perhaps didn't pay attention (like most) in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;CCD&lt;/span&gt;. Today, as I was making his lunch, he said - "What, we're out of lunch meat?"....me: "It's Ash Wednesday, remember eating &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;packzi&lt;/span&gt; yesterday?" I think he rolled his eyes. The no meat thing gets him and he HATES following it. I think only because I found out that the real reason why there is Meatless Fridays and on holy days is because back in the day (Middle Ages) they wanted to promote the fishing industry and going meatless was a way to do that. It is pretty wrong. But foregoing meat can be a sacrifice by eating less and using the extra money to donate to a good cause or ones in need. Kurt will do it...grumbling. Hey, it's his sacrifice...he feels it more than most.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today we'll go get Ashes on our foreheads...pray at mass and start Lent. I am looking forward to my 40 days of good deeds....what will I do today?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-7940856418008816553?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/7940856418008816553/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=7940856418008816553' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/7940856418008816553'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/7940856418008816553'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/02/ash-wednesday.html' title='Ash Wednesday...'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-765066764229168127</id><published>2009-02-24T10:01:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-24T10:11:28.068-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Aunt Lib &amp; Aunt Marcy!</title><content type='html'>This past weekend we went to my mom's to celebrate a few birthdays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mom &amp;amp; Lib checking out the cards I made for her&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SaQMM42p7zI/AAAAAAAAA1U/eKsdBgx_qpo/s1600-h/003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306379676508876594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SaQMM42p7zI/AAAAAAAAA1U/eKsdBgx_qpo/s400/003.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Julia, Olivia &amp;amp; Jimmy...too cool for themselves.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SaQMMkI55UI/AAAAAAAAA1M/M9toziqlNwg/s1600-h/005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306379670948275522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SaQMMkI55UI/AAAAAAAAA1M/M9toziqlNwg/s400/005.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Again...the sunglasses.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SaQMMcn08iI/AAAAAAAAA1E/9MEaO9A1Qbs/s1600-h/011.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306379668930490914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SaQMMcn08iI/AAAAAAAAA1E/9MEaO9A1Qbs/s400/011.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;..And more&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SaQMMQ9dosI/AAAAAAAAA08/4jIRckKj_Ec/s1600-h/008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306379665800012482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SaQMMQ9dosI/AAAAAAAAA08/4jIRckKj_Ec/s400/008.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The kids were climbing all over Aunt Marcy...it was pretty funny. As I was watching them do it...i remembered doing the same thing as a kid on Aunt Marcy. She's my mom's kid sister (15 years younger), and when we were kids, she was a kid herself. She was always the highlight of going to my grandparent's house or if they were coming to visit. It's still the same with our kids. They love her...and I think she love them. Now let's see if she needs some chiropractic work after this...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-a79657923b59d77f" 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://v18.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Da79657923b59d77f%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330372049%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D3F35D02D3A749CDEC1F1FC6AC9C5B7AEB0963B96.85C1D51A053452D55D0D3FF5AC654F471250849C%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Da79657923b59d77f%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DPRYJzDBQbXARoBvBu6YEl49udGo&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://v18.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Da79657923b59d77f%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330372049%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D3F35D02D3A749CDEC1F1FC6AC9C5B7AEB0963B96.85C1D51A053452D55D0D3FF5AC654F471250849C%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Da79657923b59d77f%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DPRYJzDBQbXARoBvBu6YEl49udGo&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jimmy cracking up...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SaQMMNJ6cSI/AAAAAAAAA00/A8nt8NGvZUA/s1600-h/016.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306379664778490146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SaQMMNJ6cSI/AAAAAAAAA00/A8nt8NGvZUA/s400/016.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&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/2282864000533678487-765066764229168127?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=a79657923b59d77f&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/765066764229168127/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=765066764229168127' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/765066764229168127'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/765066764229168127'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/02/happy-birthday-aunt-lib-aunt-marcy.html' title='Happy Birthday Aunt Lib &amp; Aunt Marcy!'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SaQMM42p7zI/AAAAAAAAA1U/eKsdBgx_qpo/s72-c/003.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-7670880797619929151</id><published>2009-02-24T09:54:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-24T10:00:15.344-05:00</updated><title type='text'>She is so my daughter....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SaQKR-UjjjI/AAAAAAAAA0s/U1jx1gVOImo/s1600-h/003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306377564852555314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SaQKR-UjjjI/AAAAAAAAA0s/U1jx1gVOImo/s400/003.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I couldn't resist taking this picture of Julia last week. I didn't realize until I looked at it, just how much like me she really is. Okay, she mostly looks like Kurt, but she is so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;innately&lt;/span&gt; me...it is uncanny. She is my daughter and I am sure that as the year's pass, she'll try to NOT be like me, but will find that there is no way around it. She is me.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;She loves to read. She hates to pick up stuff. She loves having her hair done. She loves to put on makeup. She loves to watch TV. She loves to eat. She loves to cuddle. She is a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;girly&lt;/span&gt; girl. She loves to do art and draw. She is creative. She is imaginative. She is emotional. She is into clothes. She is helpful. She is wise beyond her years. She is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;creepy&lt;/span&gt; smart. She is me.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-7670880797619929151?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/7670880797619929151/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=7670880797619929151' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/7670880797619929151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/7670880797619929151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/02/she-is-so-my-daughter.html' title='She is so my daughter....'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SaQKR-UjjjI/AAAAAAAAA0s/U1jx1gVOImo/s72-c/003.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-5069845264808030406</id><published>2009-02-24T09:40:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-24T09:54:36.358-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Do I need another Baby?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SaQHbk3DCpI/AAAAAAAAA0k/P9pQn4bYLEE/s1600-h/005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306374431281711762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SaQHbk3DCpI/AAAAAAAAA0k/P9pQn4bYLEE/s400/005.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Jimmy loves babies. Real ones especially, but in a pinch Bitty Baby will do. Last week, the kids were "babysitting" this baby and taking it all over the house. The baby had to eat with us at that table (Jimmy gave her his booster chair). It really was sweet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jimmy has been saying a lot lately. Speaking in paragraphs and it all makes sense. Really it is a language explosion. Girls and Boys are so different. By 18 months Julia was speaking pretty clearly, speaking in sentences and it was a natural progression from there. Jimmy on the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;other hand&lt;/span&gt; at that age, had a few words he'd say, he'd understand you, he just didn't say a ton like his sister did at that age. Well, Jimmy must have been saving it all up for the winter when were were bored. The kid doesn't shut up. He talks and talks. When you get a moment alone with him, he just wants to chat about the colors of all of his favorite cars and about whatever else is on his mind. As of this week, his obsession is our old neighbor's baby, Emily. He found some old &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;sippy&lt;/span&gt; cups that were from when he and Julia were babies and he totally out of the blue told me that we needed to give them to baby Emily. We haven't seen them in over a month! How he remembered her, I have no idea. Now at every meal, like groundhog day, Jimmy tells me that Baby Emily needs his old &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;sippy&lt;/span&gt; cups and diapers. If you don't repeat what he has said to you, he'll keep saying it until you do. Hearing his voice that has no volume control yell "Baby Emily needs my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;dia&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;ar&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;puhs&lt;/span&gt;! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Juss&lt;/span&gt; one." makes me just chuckle, sometimes I don't repeat after him so I can hear him say it again and again. It's pretty cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But for the record...I don't need another baby...Bitty Baby is about all I can handle right now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-5069845264808030406?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/5069845264808030406/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=5069845264808030406' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/5069845264808030406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/5069845264808030406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/02/do-i-need-another-baby.html' title='Do I need another Baby?'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SaQHbk3DCpI/AAAAAAAAA0k/P9pQn4bYLEE/s72-c/005.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-3211480340105950461</id><published>2009-02-24T09:34:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-24T09:40:02.627-05:00</updated><title type='text'>They are Eaters...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SaQF9uc_DhI/AAAAAAAAA0E/my23MCmHcAw/s1600-h/003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5306372818949049874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SaQF9uc_DhI/AAAAAAAAA0E/my23MCmHcAw/s400/003.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;These kids can sure eat. You wouldn't know it if you saw them, because they are so thin, but they eat. Most mornings they eat 2 breakfasts. Today was no exception. Julia ate 2 bowls of cereal and a waffle and Jimmy ate 1 bowl and a waffle at 8am. Then at 9:30, they helped themselves to the snack &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;cabinet&lt;/span&gt;...which I forgot to lock and were eating chips. I was on the computer, but I could hear them and they thought they were so sneaky. At least they know to come to the tile and stay out of the living room.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-3211480340105950461?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/3211480340105950461/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=3211480340105950461' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/3211480340105950461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/3211480340105950461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/02/they-are-eaters.html' title='They are Eaters...'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SaQF9uc_DhI/AAAAAAAAA0E/my23MCmHcAw/s72-c/003.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-889392748934416428</id><published>2009-02-16T22:14:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T22:23:21.755-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Valentine's Day!</title><content type='html'>We had a great Valentine's Day. Kurt let me sleep in after having a night out with the neighbor girls playing Left. Right. Center. We made a trek to my hometown to see my mom after having some surgery and then picked up my grandma. See my sister's blog &lt;a href="http://travisandlibby.blogspot.com/2009/02/valentines-day_15.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt; for some cute pictures of the kids watching Wizard of Oz.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-889392748934416428?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/889392748934416428/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=889392748934416428' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/889392748934416428'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/889392748934416428'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/02/valentine.html' title='Valentine&apos;s Day!'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-7144138964694539606</id><published>2009-02-16T21:54:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-16T22:14:56.601-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'll wear my sunglasses all day...</title><content type='html'>Today was a very sunny day, giving us a glimpse of spring. Days like today are the only way people who live in Michigan can get through the next 2 long months. Because it was so sunny, the kids wore their sunglasses while we went out to run our errands. Jimmy insisted on wearing his sunglasses once we got in Costco. Insisted on wearing them while we ate lunch. Insisted on wearing them while he fell asleep in the car. Insisted on wearing them while he watched some TV in the afternoon. Insisted on wearing them at the gym. I only convinced him to take them off once he got to the gym, by telling him that he may lose them there. He got a little freaked out whenever they'd slide off his face. He'd run around and shout - "My Glasses! My Glasses!" practically in tears.  I wish I would have gotten a picture of it, but I am sure there will be other times.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-7144138964694539606?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/7144138964694539606/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=7144138964694539606' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/7144138964694539606'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/7144138964694539606'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/02/ill-wear-my-sunglasses-all-day.html' title='I&apos;ll wear my sunglasses all day...'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-8934364021893205832</id><published>2009-02-12T12:57:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-12T13:14:58.950-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It will NEVER be the Same...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SZRjuoz6duI/AAAAAAAAAzs/72HrA4lRSDM/s1600-h/Direct+Concentrated+047.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301972314202207970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SZRjuoz6duI/AAAAAAAAAzs/72HrA4lRSDM/s400/Direct+Concentrated+047.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Dawn is gone. We knew it was coming, we said our goodbyes over several days. The moving Semi was in front of my house, I watched their stuff come out. But you know, it never felt real to me until I saw them loading up in their car after the moving van left. It was for real. There wasn't going to be another run across the street, another load of garbage, another box of fertilizer...they were really leaving. Now, I know that I will see them again soon, since they will be living only mere miles away from Jim &amp;amp; Patty (Kurt's brother). But still...not to see her on a daily basis will be hard. Not to see her light on at all hours of the night will make me lonely (we were the neighborhood watch after 11pm). I am not sure how much value people put on their neighbors these days. I know that our neighborhood is rare. We are all so close and really look out for each other. We see each other everyday. We raise our kids together and for each other. We are like family. I think the fact that we all stay home with our families makes it even more &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;noticeable&lt;/span&gt;, since our world is our neighborhood. Now a link is missing. Ellen and I will just have to lean more on each other and continue to bring Debbie and Kim into our fray to take up the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;absence&lt;/span&gt; that will surely be felt over the months to come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SZRjuWhP9II/AAAAAAAAAzk/Ie1XB8--vK0/s1600-h/Direct+Concentrated+049.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just a few pictures of the kids from Tuesday when it was warm enough to play outside before the winds started to blow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SZRjuBaDpFI/AAAAAAAAAzc/-Pmi2zZh6SU/s1600-h/042.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301972303624774738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SZRjuBaDpFI/AAAAAAAAAzc/-Pmi2zZh6SU/s400/042.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SZRjt6G6aNI/AAAAAAAAAzU/6YVIBs0qcBo/s1600-h/027.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301972301665429714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SZRjt6G6aNI/AAAAAAAAAzU/6YVIBs0qcBo/s400/027.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SZRjtlwy0UI/AAAAAAAAAzM/-iB4Ro0L2m8/s1600-h/031.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301972296203948354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SZRjtlwy0UI/AAAAAAAAAzM/-iB4Ro0L2m8/s400/031.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/2282864000533678487-8934364021893205832?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/8934364021893205832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=8934364021893205832' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/8934364021893205832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/8934364021893205832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/02/it-will-never-be-same.html' title='It will NEVER be the Same...'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SZRjuoz6duI/AAAAAAAAAzs/72HrA4lRSDM/s72-c/Direct+Concentrated+047.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-6433826292054684637</id><published>2009-02-10T00:18:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-10T00:28:32.979-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy 40th Debbie!</title><content type='html'>2 weeks ago, the kids went to My mom's for the weekend and we helped to celebrate our neighbor Debbie's 40th birthday. Her husband and friend set up the perfect night for her. They had a limo bus set up to take us from the house to the hotel where they were staying for the night. We hung out there for a few drinks and then headed to a bar where a band that Debbie and Scott used to listen to alot when they were first dating. Then the limo bus took us back to our house. It was great. We all had a great time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Kate, Debbie &amp;amp; Ellen&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SZEO25JNTdI/AAAAAAAAAzE/toNRTyeFvHY/s1600-h/IMG_2456.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301034572606950866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SZEO25JNTdI/AAAAAAAAAzE/toNRTyeFvHY/s400/IMG_2456.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Kate &amp;amp; Ellen&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SZEO2gel64I/AAAAAAAAAy8/11ZW3ZtyP7Q/s1600-h/IMG_2440.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301034565985758082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SZEO2gel64I/AAAAAAAAAy8/11ZW3ZtyP7Q/s400/IMG_2440.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Party Limo Bus&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SZEO2k1QrfI/AAAAAAAAAy0/bRDiR_jW8I4/s1600-h/IMG_2439.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301034567154576882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SZEO2k1QrfI/AAAAAAAAAy0/bRDiR_jW8I4/s400/IMG_2439.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Tim &amp;amp; Ellen&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SZEO2tE2FeI/AAAAAAAAAys/T8JUpo-w57U/s1600-h/IMG_2422.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301034569367426530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SZEO2tE2FeI/AAAAAAAAAys/T8JUpo-w57U/s400/IMG_2422.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Kate &amp;amp; Kurt&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SZEO2b1HnSI/AAAAAAAAAyk/pMCTgU3X-lI/s1600-h/IMG_2421.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301034564738063650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SZEO2b1HnSI/AAAAAAAAAyk/pMCTgU3X-lI/s400/IMG_2421.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&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/2282864000533678487-6433826292054684637?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/6433826292054684637/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=6433826292054684637' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/6433826292054684637'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/6433826292054684637'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/02/happy-40th-debbie.html' title='Happy 40th Debbie!'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SZEO25JNTdI/AAAAAAAAAzE/toNRTyeFvHY/s72-c/IMG_2456.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-5788606265651279567</id><published>2009-02-10T00:13:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-10T00:18:01.195-05:00</updated><title type='text'>At the Pool!</title><content type='html'>About a week ago, we took the kids to the gym pool. They want to go swimming all the time, but it is kind of a production to go in the winter. It was worth it...the kids had a blast!&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SZENeDihSCI/AAAAAAAAAyc/E48NZSZ3Fdc/s1600-h/033.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301033046389114914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SZENeDihSCI/AAAAAAAAAyc/E48NZSZ3Fdc/s400/033.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SZENdy7D3MI/AAAAAAAAAyU/YvxDm0EjSpE/s1600-h/034.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301033041928641730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SZENdy7D3MI/AAAAAAAAAyU/YvxDm0EjSpE/s400/034.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SZENdg6LXXI/AAAAAAAAAyM/giw-cXPpWp4/s1600-h/035.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301033037093100914" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SZENdg6LXXI/AAAAAAAAAyM/giw-cXPpWp4/s400/035.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SZENdg2sndI/AAAAAAAAAyE/fMUHvsd4YpE/s1600-h/036.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301033037078502866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SZENdg2sndI/AAAAAAAAAyE/fMUHvsd4YpE/s400/036.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/2282864000533678487-5788606265651279567?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/5788606265651279567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=5788606265651279567' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/5788606265651279567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/5788606265651279567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/02/at-pool.html' title='At the Pool!'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SZENeDihSCI/AAAAAAAAAyc/E48NZSZ3Fdc/s72-c/033.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-8126881899689075615</id><published>2009-02-10T00:07:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-10T00:13:28.170-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Preschool Fun</title><content type='html'>Just a few pictures from January of Julia at school. She just loves it so much! I am so proud of how much she has learned and how she has my excitement about learning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SZEMQW9s_zI/AAAAAAAAAx0/gESWIYr3MOg/s1600-h/012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301031711573606194" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SZEMQW9s_zI/AAAAAAAAAx0/gESWIYr3MOg/s400/012.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SZEMQCXKnTI/AAAAAAAAAxs/Xv0lBprAQQY/s1600-h/021.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301031706043260210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SZEMQCXKnTI/AAAAAAAAAxs/Xv0lBprAQQY/s400/021.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SZEMPzlmYhI/AAAAAAAAAxk/J_EXNa3ZDEs/s1600-h/023.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301031702077268498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SZEMPzlmYhI/AAAAAAAAAxk/J_EXNa3ZDEs/s400/023.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SZEMPxBZcWI/AAAAAAAAAxc/3eeWwgjtMO4/s1600-h/039.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301031701388554594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SZEMPxBZcWI/AAAAAAAAAxc/3eeWwgjtMO4/s400/039.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The picture below was taken on a field trip. We went to a hospital that has a museum in it. She has been there before and she just gets a kick out of it every time. This time her favorite was the nose...it would sneeze.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SZEMPq41HFI/AAAAAAAAAxU/HvXhkXb8eBk/s1600-h/029.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301031699742006354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SZEMPq41HFI/AAAAAAAAAxU/HvXhkXb8eBk/s400/029.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-8126881899689075615?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/8126881899689075615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=8126881899689075615' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/8126881899689075615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/8126881899689075615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/02/preschool-fun.html' title='Preschool Fun'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SZEMQW9s_zI/AAAAAAAAAx0/gESWIYr3MOg/s72-c/012.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-5451269564473293446</id><published>2009-02-09T23:47:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-10T00:06:30.935-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I know...where have we been?</title><content type='html'>Things have been crazy around here. i have been bad about updating the blog. I guess life just gets in the way. If it's not one thing it's another around here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you're in the "know" you probably know about this social networking site called Facebook. Well, I have been on it for about a year and in the past few months, a ton of my friends both current and from the past are on it now. It's fun to reconnect with people and really get to know some of my other friends better too. The only problem is that it totally sucks you in and after a while you realize that you've been on it for a few hours. I took 5 days off of it last week and totally felt  like I had my life back. I won't be spending as much time on facebook from now on. I'd rather update the blog with my time - but it is fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am also in the thick of the mom2mom sale planning. If you have no idea what that is...you are probably lucky. I organize a huge sale for moms to sell their gently used kids clothes, toys, baby stuff, etc at our church each spring. We usually have about 50 sellers and over 400 shoppers. It's fun for the moms to make money and for people to get some good deals on nice stuff. I wish I had shopped them when Julia was a baby. Anyway, we've about sold the sale out and I am in the middle of doing the layouts of the tables and stuff. It's alot of work, but it raises money for the church and helps the moms make some money. And in this economy we all need that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have also really been focusing on scrapbooking the past month. I really want to finish Jimmy's baby book. Poor guy. he loves looking at pictures and I know that he'd enjoy his book as much as Julia enjoys hers. Plus, I just love scrapbooking. Something about starting with just pictures and some paper just makes me feel so creative. I also just finished a small book for my neighbor who is moving this week. It was fun putting it together for her, really made me think about how blessed I am to live in such a great area.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are also trying to figure out where Julia will go to school next year. She will be old enough to go to Kindergarten, but just barely. We've decided that we'd rather her attend a young 5 program next year and then enter kindergarten as a 5 year old versus 4 year old. Finding a program that I like, that I can afford, that isn't too hardcore, that isn't too far away has proved to be a little crazy. Fortunately, we have options and I am weighing all of those and trying to find what is best for her. I am taking her a little too seriously I think. Poor Jimmy...i can't decide what to do with him next year until i figure out what is going on with Julia. He gets so shafted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jimmy has transitioned to his car bed from the crib. So far, it has not been too bad. He sleeps in it pretty well at night, naptime is another story. I am NOT ready for him to give up napping. Julia was about the same age when she stopped napping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am sure that there are another million things that are going on in our lives that I failed to mention...but in reality...do you really want to read about how much of a slob Jimmy is when he eats and there is more food on the floor than in his belly?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-5451269564473293446?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/5451269564473293446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=5451269564473293446' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/5451269564473293446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/5451269564473293446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-knowwhere-have-we-been.html' title='I know...where have we been?'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-6625158028236857732</id><published>2009-01-22T14:30:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T14:41:18.254-05:00</updated><title type='text'>What Those Crazy Kids Are Doing...</title><content type='html'>Beside the fact that I am losing my mind this week...the kids are not little terrors. They still do cute things here and there. They also do not so cute things. Here is a sampling of the past few days events...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Julia wanted to blow dry her hair, so she made her entire head wet yesterday and then I heard her trying to get the hairdryer out. Thank GOD she didn't do wet hair and hair dryer at the same time.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Jimmy pulled a bunch of 100 pc puzzles out of the cabinet that does not lock and dumped them out of the boxes. The 2 he chose to dump were 2 princess puzzles that are pretty much identical. These puzzles were also puzzles that I didn't mark the back of the pieces like I normally do so I can tell which pieces go where. I was able to put together 2 70 pc puzzles simultaneously while I was trying to get Jimmy to eat his pizza.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Julia is at a birthday party today from 12-3, what a great day and time for a party. Jimmy was ticked that he couldn't go and he cried the whole way home.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Jimmy has a runny nose and is wiping it all over the house and on Julia. Julia called him "Jimmy Snots" - she's embracing her Italian American Roots by making my dear sweet boy a member of the MOB.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Instead of eating his pizza at lunch time (because that was what Julia was having at her party), he chose to eat the dried up cheerios off the floor.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Barack Obama is still referred to as "Iraq Obama". Hmmm - does the little republican know something we don't? &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;I am sure that there is more, but I have to get Julia and I need to clean up my house at some point. One of these days I will get it together!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-6625158028236857732?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/6625158028236857732/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=6625158028236857732' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/6625158028236857732'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/6625158028236857732'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/01/what-those-crazy-kids-are-doing.html' title='What Those Crazy Kids Are Doing...'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-995245361777956868</id><published>2009-01-22T14:18:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T14:25:20.003-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Can't Keep Up!</title><content type='html'>I seriously feel like I am never going to get ahead of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;anything&lt;/span&gt;. Honestly, the past few days have been a little trying with the kids. Jimmy has developed a bit of a runny nose and is kind of whinnier than usual. Julia is a little bored. Bedtime has been difficult. My list of to dos has been endless. Mom2Mom Sale planning has started and I already feel behind. Trying to figure out what is going to happen with Julia next year for school is another big stress. Young 5 programs are expensive and if they are free, either our school district (which is supposed to be top knotch)won't sign us over to go to the other program or we have to wait for a few months to see if another school will take us. I suppose it will all work out, but I am about at my breaking point. I know a lot of it has to do with the weather and the fact that the kids need a little more exercise/outside time. I know I'd feel better if I was able to go to the gym, but taking a sick kid to the gym is against the rules and my personal rules. Perhaps tonight I will go burn off some steam, but as I am working out I know I will be thinking of all of the unfinished work I have at home. I can't win. Hopefully my weekend of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;scrapbooking&lt;/span&gt; will &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;rejuvenate&lt;/span&gt; me. I need something.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-995245361777956868?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/995245361777956868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=995245361777956868' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/995245361777956868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/995245361777956868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/01/i-cant-keep-up.html' title='I Can&apos;t Keep Up!'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-6854518044535794771</id><published>2009-01-19T21:32:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-19T21:42:36.813-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Celebrating Birthdays...Young and Old</title><content type='html'>On Sunday, we braved the weather and headed to celebrate Joshua's (my cousin Jeff's son) first birthday. I can't believe that he's a year old already. He had fun watching the kids act silly and run around...before long he'll be there too. Then it will just be a little more out of control.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we celebrated my mom's 61st birthday - we actually surprised her at Kurt's favorite restaurant, The Red Lobster. Actually, that is a lie - he is a seafood snob. I like it just fine and it seems to be a popular place to dine in my hometown and with my family. She was surprised to see us and the kids miraculously were good and ate somewhat quietly. Afterwards we went to my sister's house. Click &lt;a href="http://travisandlibby.blogspot.com/2009/01/grannies-birthday.html"&gt;Here&lt;/a&gt; to see some pictures from my sister's blog of the kids acting silly.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-6854518044535794771?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/6854518044535794771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=6854518044535794771' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/6854518044535794771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/6854518044535794771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/01/celebrating-birthdaysyoung-and-old.html' title='Celebrating Birthdays...Young and Old'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-7309489523919795886</id><published>2009-01-15T15:23:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-15T15:29:53.920-05:00</updated><title type='text'>My Brain</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Julia is pretty funny. She was drawing today on her little board and showed me this and wanted her picture taken with it. I thought that I'd give you all a little taste of her show and tell style though.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-8075cff5fb300502" 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.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D8075cff5fb300502%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330372049%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D1B52B6F502DCC4D481BEAF4046EDE91A4FAABE71.807840F1979081EAA76F776A54ED7AFD329AA11F%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D8075cff5fb300502%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DInHJq5s5_6oUjGcMregXpN4iJC8&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.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D8075cff5fb300502%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330372049%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D1B52B6F502DCC4D481BEAF4046EDE91A4FAABE71.807840F1979081EAA76F776A54ED7AFD329AA11F%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D8075cff5fb300502%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DInHJq5s5_6oUjGcMregXpN4iJC8&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-7309489523919795886?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=8075cff5fb300502&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/7309489523919795886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=7309489523919795886' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/7309489523919795886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/7309489523919795886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/01/my-brain.html' title='My Brain'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-2607031597953757168</id><published>2009-01-15T13:54:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-15T15:23:09.561-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Everyone Leaves....</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;Ky&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;le&lt;/span&gt;, Clay &amp;amp; Jimmy holding down the fort...and staying in town &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5291596213429076130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SW-GuFQ-AKI/AAAAAAAAAwg/GvvyIilSUYo/s400/002.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This past weekend, our old neighbors came for a visit. It was so great to catch up with them and their new baby Emily. She is such a sweet baby. We had a great time catching up and just relaxing. Tim, Ellen and the boys also came over to enjoy the company. We tried to party like rock stars, but the kids cramp our style. At the end of the evening, Ellen went home to put the boys to bed, Kelly fell asleep and I watched some TV and did some computer stuff, all while the men played &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Wii&lt;/span&gt;...so much for ladies night. In the morning, we all converged on Tim and Ellen's for a breakfast. It was great, but bittersweet. The new people who moved into their old house are great, we couldn't ask for better neighbors and friends, but I miss our old neighbors too. Spending a whole day with them again, reminded me of that. They are such good people...and such great friends. I never worry that we will all lose touch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which brings me to my next deserters from the hood...our neighbors across the street, Dawn, John, Lauren &amp;amp; Will are moving to Kansas in a matter of weeks. Her husband got a new job about a month ago and the whole thing is going down pretty quickly. Much faster than I'd like. Dawn is the other part of the stay at home co-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;hort&lt;/span&gt; in the hood. We were pregnant together with Will &amp;amp; Julia and our kids play together all the time. It will be strange to see their house empty and to not see them all the time. We all really rely on each other day to day. We swap kids on Mondays so we can run errands, we share magazines, we share coupons, we share our lives. I am pretty sad. But I know that this will be great for their family and that this is they way life goes...especially in our area and the industry that our husbands work in. I know that my sadness must pale in comparison to my friend's sadness and uncertainty of moving away from everyone and everything she knows. That stops my pity party really fast. And on a lighter note, they will be living mere miles away from our family that lives there, so we will see them at least once or twice a year when we visit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-2607031597953757168?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/2607031597953757168/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=2607031597953757168' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/2607031597953757168'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/2607031597953757168'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/01/everyone-leaves.html' title='Everyone Leaves....'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SW-GuFQ-AKI/AAAAAAAAAwg/GvvyIilSUYo/s72-c/002.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-2178356138239791860</id><published>2009-01-15T10:02:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-15T10:06:42.158-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Brrrrr............</title><content type='html'>It is so cold out today! We skipped Moms Group today in favor of declaring a "cold day" and aren't going anywhere the morning. I felt guilty for a few minutes for skipping one of my favorite things, but honestly I need a down day and the weather is just a nice excuse. So, we are still in jammies, the kids are playing in the basement and I am curled up on the couch going through the million pieces of paper that have the various schedules, commitments, parties, etc for the rest of the school year, while watching Martha. I finally have got the schedules into the calendar, minus a few field trips. It feels good to accomplish something!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, perhaps we'll change into clothes and drive the block to get Julia's hair trimmed...or maybe not. We shall see how cooped up we feel and how much I want to avoid the pile of dishes on the kitchen counter.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-2178356138239791860?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/2178356138239791860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=2178356138239791860' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/2178356138239791860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/2178356138239791860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/01/brrrrr.html' title='Brrrrr............'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-7262378031705104782</id><published>2009-01-12T13:25:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-12T13:35:59.609-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wow! So Many Pictures!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SWuM2v2I8OI/AAAAAAAAAwY/Tbv73kVitsk/s1600-h/2008+Christmas+Photo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290477059461148898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 314px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SWuM2v2I8OI/AAAAAAAAAwY/Tbv73kVitsk/s400/2008+Christmas+Photo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I love Christmas Cards! I love sending them and I love getting them. It's fun now that we have kids, because it is perfectly acceptable to have the photo card, which is not only inexpensive, but a nice way to spread cheer to our friends and family. This year's photo for the cards was the easiest photo yet to take. The kids were in a good mood and it only took 2 shots to get one that was a keeper. I think that I take their pictures so often, that they are used to cheesing it up for the camera.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290475280184569778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SWuLPLhi77I/AAAAAAAAAwQ/Yrxs79yi6-s/s400/003.JPG" border="0" /&gt;We received so many photo cards this year from friends and family! A few year's ago, I made this super cute wall hanging to attach the Christmas cards to so we could enjoy them. Well, this year, I had so many cards, that I only could hang the photo cards on it and you can't even see the ribbons that you attach them to! I think that I will have to make another one to use for 2009! We took our tree down over a week ago, but I left up the cards. I think I will leave them up for another few days until I can't take it anymore. Then I will cut them up and put them in the scrapbook...to see how much the kids have changed over the years! &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/2282864000533678487-7262378031705104782?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/7262378031705104782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=7262378031705104782' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/7262378031705104782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/7262378031705104782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/01/wow-so-many-pictures.html' title='Wow! So Many Pictures!'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SWuM2v2I8OI/AAAAAAAAAwY/Tbv73kVitsk/s72-c/2008+Christmas+Photo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-8896054883822335090</id><published>2009-01-06T23:23:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-06T23:28:11.537-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Back to the Daily Grind!</title><content type='html'>We're 2 days into our regular schedule and I am failing miserably. I guess fail is a pretty harsh word. I just would say that while I am ready to be back to a schedule, my body is saying that it liked sleeping in and just doing whatever. I overslept today, but Julia didn't miss school, so that was good. Thank GOD for my mother-in-law who showed up to watch Jimmy - she always brings a bit of calm to those hectic mornings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Julia was so glad to be back at school. On the way home, she just chat chat chatted away about everything. She just loves school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow is Jimmy's first day back...hopefully I will be able to get out of bed and be on time. They are predicting a very icy commute tomorrow....hopefully it won't be as bad as they are predicting. Or if it is...dare I wish for a Snow Day?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-8896054883822335090?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/8896054883822335090/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=8896054883822335090' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/8896054883822335090'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/8896054883822335090'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/01/back-to-daily-grind.html' title='Back to the Daily Grind!'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-2002270350858442025</id><published>2009-01-04T00:14:00.006-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-04T00:53:07.393-05:00</updated><title type='text'>New Years Eve</title><content type='html'>On New Year's Eve we decided to have some people over. It was a little impromptu, but nevertheless, a great party. We invited just a few friends and our neighbors, which happens to be a little tradition we have had over the past few years I guess. I love to entertain, as Ellen always says, i make it look effortless...which is a nice compliment, although I have to say that I do put some effort into it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since most of us have kids or are about to have kids, we all started the evening with our little ones and then later put them to bed. Our kids were up until 10pm...pretty late for them, but not that unheard of in the past few weeks with all that we have had going on lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ellen, Kate &amp;amp; Cheryl...my neighbors&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SWBGc1W3Y6I/AAAAAAAAAwI/3OQsx3fRTuc/s1600-h/009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287303423706227618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SWBGc1W3Y6I/AAAAAAAAAwI/3OQsx3fRTuc/s400/009.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Amy, Kate &amp;amp; Cherie...my girls from way back&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SWBGcLzQwEI/AAAAAAAAAwA/zYDXCmAwL8U/s1600-h/010.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287303412551041090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SWBGcLzQwEI/AAAAAAAAAwA/zYDXCmAwL8U/s400/010.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Ellen &amp;amp; Tim...our neighbors&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SWBGbg4fLTI/AAAAAAAAAv4/OhZeFQE68YU/s1600-h/009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287303401030233394" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SWBGbg4fLTI/AAAAAAAAAv4/OhZeFQE68YU/s400/009.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Amy was due to have her baby girl on Dec 30th, so we were a little surprised to see her and Jake show up. Here Kurt is trying to scare the baby out so it could be the first baby of the 2009 - guess he didn't have much luck with our kids or Amy's.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SWBGbcIk2eI/AAAAAAAAAvw/srA6cUtyjTY/s1600-h/014.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287303399755536866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SWBGbcIk2eI/AAAAAAAAAvw/srA6cUtyjTY/s400/014.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We stayed up pretty late, but managed to get most of the stuff cleaned up before going to bed, which is always a must after our parties. Nothing like waking up to a mess and old food crusted everywhere. We had a fantastic night and we are just so lucky to be able to celebrate with some of our closest friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The kids also were wonderful...they slept in until 8:30, which was much needed. Welcome 2009...may you be filled with promise and prosperity!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SWBGbF5M1uI/AAAAAAAAAvo/w5iq_1eC3ck/s1600-h/022.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287303393785468642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SWBGbF5M1uI/AAAAAAAAAvo/w5iq_1eC3ck/s400/022.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&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/2282864000533678487-2002270350858442025?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/2002270350858442025/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=2002270350858442025' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/2002270350858442025'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/2002270350858442025'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2009/01/new-years-eve.html' title='New Years Eve'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SWBGc1W3Y6I/AAAAAAAAAwI/3OQsx3fRTuc/s72-c/009.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-7000731042176167326</id><published>2008-12-29T22:48:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-29T23:13:36.080-05:00</updated><title type='text'>We have a Wii</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;We have bought a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Wii&lt;/span&gt;. Kurt has been wanting one for over a year and I have put him off for a while, but I have relented and decided that it wasn't a bad purchase. We didn't buy each other gifts for Christmas this year (unless you count the blinds duster I ordered days before Christmas and the slippers I picked up for Kurt).  We decided that if we saw one for sale, that we'd get one. Kurt mentioned to Jimmy (his brother) that when he went to Target the day after Christmas that if he saw one that he should pick it up for us. Well, lucky day...one was returned unopened and we got it. $300 later...we were set up and playing in the basement. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Meghan got a new game for Christmas, Boogie Superstar. It comes with a microphone and you sing and dance and earn points so you can get more songs to perform to. The songs are mostly High School Musical, Allie and whoever, Jonas Brothers, etc...stuff that I am not too familiar with. Although there are a few that I knew words to. It's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Karaoke&lt;/span&gt; style, so at least the words are there. After playing it for an hour or so, Julia started to pick up the words and moves that the lady on the game was doing. Here is her rendition, along with her sidekick Jimmy Jams. Warning...what you are about to see is what happens to kids when they stay up past their normal 8pm lights out. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-d05be63422c7308e" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v3.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dd05be63422c7308e%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330372049%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D3B63146920B2546590F6BA76BCF104C925A35806.36BBA6A6B2F10378D34EE813933D65323EE919DF%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dd05be63422c7308e%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DlT2vQ550ICYdqJ2thcSozzWVxd4&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v3.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dd05be63422c7308e%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330372049%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D3B63146920B2546590F6BA76BCF104C925A35806.36BBA6A6B2F10378D34EE813933D65323EE919DF%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dd05be63422c7308e%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DlT2vQ550ICYdqJ2thcSozzWVxd4&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Yeah, not sure that I am a big fan of the hair shaking...my little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Beyonce&lt;/span&gt;. Anyway...after the girls when back to moms for the night, Kurt and I decided to try it out. I quickly found out that I can't dance (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Wii&lt;/span&gt; style that is), but I could sing and earn points. Our goal was to earn them enough points to get them some new dance moves and songs, which we did...but painfully when I had to "dance"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Anyway, the past few days have been fun...I have picked up a few games at the library for us to try out. Kurt's newest favorite is the Godfather...although i am not sure he's totally figured out how to actually kill another person yet. Meanwhile, I will just sit by, reading my book giving the aura that I am too good to play a video game. Will I get into it? Highly unlikely. unless there is Dr. Mario or &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Tetrus&lt;/span&gt;...I am not all that into it. I never was a video game girl...just a closet nerd who &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;preferred&lt;/span&gt; to read a good book. Which if you see my current selections, are just chick lit, not anything enlightening.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-7000731042176167326?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=d05be63422c7308e&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/7000731042176167326/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=7000731042176167326' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/7000731042176167326'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/7000731042176167326'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2008/12/we-have-wii.html' title='We have a Wii'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-369115814776274617</id><published>2008-12-29T22:13:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-29T22:43:07.283-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas at Grammie &amp; Poppi's and Random Thoughts</title><content type='html'>So, the final stop on our Christmas Day Adventure was my mom's house. I hope she got some pictures, as I didn't take any. Why? Well, let's just say that the kids were a little off their rockers by the time we got there. There was crying, there was zombie like stares, there was a bad case of the gimmes. We took a much needed break and ate and the kids seemed to be rejuvenated...well enough to at least open some more presents. The kids got lots of nice things and some much needed clothes for the rest of winter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Although, I think after this year's experience...we are going to have to start to pick one parent to celebrate Christmas with each year, as going to 2 houses in addition to our own and the festivities of the night before at Kurt's mom's house are just a little too much for the kids. Frankly, they are a little too much for us too, but we have had 25 years to get used to the set up. Even as a kid, I remember getting exhausted going here and there. I am sure that it will be hard at first to do, but I really see no other option, as by the end of the evening, the kids were crazy. Not fair to my mom and certainly no fun for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, word to the wise when you start to think of divorce when you have kids. Think about how it will be in 30 years for your kids and their families. God forbid that they marry someone whose parents are divorced too. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Geez&lt;/span&gt;...perhaps they will just move far away to make it easier...on them. Sorry parents....not to rip on you...Christmas was lovely...just makes for a long day. Although i think that this post was about 25 years in the making though...I've had a few Christmases under my belt and thinking to myself that the only Christmases that weren't insane were the 2 that I wasn't at home for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Christmas is about family and I am sure not short on people to call my family. We have Kurt's giant Italian/Croatian Family and my giant Divorced German/English/Irish/Unknown/Mutt American Family. Spending time with them all, even for a short period of time, makes my heart smile.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-369115814776274617?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/369115814776274617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=369115814776274617' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/369115814776274617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/369115814776274617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2008/12/christmas-at-grammie-poppis-and-random.html' title='Christmas at Grammie &amp; Poppi&apos;s and Random Thoughts'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-3902856210540557386</id><published>2008-12-29T21:57:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-29T22:13:29.341-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas at Papa &amp; Grandma Cindy's House</title><content type='html'>After we finished up our little Christmas at home, we headed to see Papa and Grandma Cindy. There are always lots of people at their house and this year was no different. There were 25 people in 2 rooms, but we all managed to fit. We were all feted with lovely gifts and the kids got a kick out of all the presents. But most of all, they just like being around their cousin Olivia and Josh. Josh is only 11 months old, but he is already enjoying watching his bigger cousins run around. Next year he will be too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Julia &amp;amp; Olivia&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SVmOygCDE6I/AAAAAAAAAvY/xcb8mVIvs74/s1600-h/020.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285412635939115938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SVmOygCDE6I/AAAAAAAAAvY/xcb8mVIvs74/s400/020.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;So Sweet&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285412626877655106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SVmOx-RoKEI/AAAAAAAAAvI/XG0Gh2t5pHs/s400/023.JPG" border="0" /&gt;Since Julia was a baby, my dad has dressed up like Santa at some point and came to wave at the kids. This year, Julia was not fooled. As soon as he came in, she looked at me and told me quietly..."That's not Santa, it's Papa!" I told her that we should be quiet, because the little kids thought that it was the real Santa. Jimmy sort of looked at him &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;weird&lt;/span&gt; and Olivia didn't want much to do with him. Anyway...Julia gave him some love. She knows where the presents are coming from. Plus, the real Santa may see her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285415094824235506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SVmRBoF8cfI/AAAAAAAAAvg/nfEPl0K5dCw/s400/029.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Lib and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Trav&lt;/span&gt; got Julia some new &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;pompoms&lt;/span&gt;. They got her some Orange and Blue ones for the Tiger Games and some Green and White ones for the State Games. I guess the fact that she's using my early 90s &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Pompoms&lt;/span&gt; from high school aren't cool enough for her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;niece&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SVmOxsouCXI/AAAAAAAAAvA/HOZlmQFLOPU/s1600-h/033.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285412622142671218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SVmOxsouCXI/AAAAAAAAAvA/HOZlmQFLOPU/s400/033.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jimmy starting to get tapped out...more on that to come...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SVmOxRdBg2I/AAAAAAAAAu4/T2N0M-wQzXU/s1600-h/036.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285412614845858658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SVmOxRdBg2I/AAAAAAAAAu4/T2N0M-wQzXU/s400/036.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/2282864000533678487-3902856210540557386?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/3902856210540557386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=3902856210540557386' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/3902856210540557386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/3902856210540557386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2008/12/christmas-at-papa-grandma-cindys-house.html' title='Christmas at Papa &amp; Grandma Cindy&apos;s House'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SVmOygCDE6I/AAAAAAAAAvY/xcb8mVIvs74/s72-c/020.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-2773823969432052833</id><published>2008-12-28T23:47:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-29T00:12:36.264-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Day at Our House</title><content type='html'>Santa....you rock! You brought us everything the kids could have wanted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Julia got a dollhouse for her Barbies, which I hear that when Santa was assembling, there was some dialogue with the unknown Chinese person who designed the parts that were not the way that Santa thought they should be. Jimmy's big gift was a car bed. The kids were pretty excited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SVhY1YmX30I/AAAAAAAAAug/xAJWznRzprg/s1600-h/001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285071836878987074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SVhY1YmX30I/AAAAAAAAAug/xAJWznRzprg/s400/001.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SVhY0d8znvI/AAAAAAAAAuY/kut0b5LlpjA/s1600-h/005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285071821135388402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SVhY0d8znvI/AAAAAAAAAuY/kut0b5LlpjA/s400/005.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SVhYzYsjSUI/AAAAAAAAAuQ/JP3504bXZEI/s1600-h/010.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285071802545162562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SVhYzYsjSUI/AAAAAAAAAuQ/JP3504bXZEI/s400/010.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SVhXItExEKI/AAAAAAAAAuI/JotFup9LXOQ/s1600-h/011.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285069969769435298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SVhXItExEKI/AAAAAAAAAuI/JotFup9LXOQ/s400/011.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SVhXIeVluvI/AAAAAAAAAuA/1rHogFmwKZk/s1600-h/012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285069965813463794" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SVhXIeVluvI/AAAAAAAAAuA/1rHogFmwKZk/s400/012.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SVhXH0aFIiI/AAAAAAAAAt4/4X4sHi4zTs4/s1600-h/014.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285069954558009890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SVhXH0aFIiI/AAAAAAAAAt4/4X4sHi4zTs4/s400/014.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Julia made gifts at preschool for Kurt and I. She has been just so excited about these gifts since she made them. Just dying to tell us. I bet everyday leading up to Christmas, she told me about Kurt's gift of "Soap on a Rope"...she said that it was good for Dads because they could wear it around their necks and run around the shower and not lose it. Kurt said it would be good for prison. I don't think she caught the remark. Although, it was cute to see the look on her face when she gave us our gifts. She made me a cute beaded Christmas Wreath ornament. I loved the look of pride on her face when she gave them to us. She is such a big girl!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SVhXHpCAOSI/AAAAAAAAAtw/jpvCNy43ikU/s1600-h/017.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285069951504234786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SVhXHpCAOSI/AAAAAAAAAtw/jpvCNy43ikU/s400/017.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Jimmy love stickers. He loves Cars. It seems that Santa must have known this, since he brought him Cars Stickers. When Jimmy gets stickers, unless he is told to put them on a piece of paper, he just sticks them all over his chest. He was so cute.&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SVhXHQ8AXII/AAAAAAAAAto/CP7FiGP0RE0/s1600-h/019.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285069945036627074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SVhXHQ8AXII/AAAAAAAAAto/CP7FiGP0RE0/s400/019.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-2773823969432052833?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/2773823969432052833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=2773823969432052833' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/2773823969432052833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/2773823969432052833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2008/12/christmas-day-at-our-house.html' title='Christmas Day at Our House'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SVhY1YmX30I/AAAAAAAAAug/xAJWznRzprg/s72-c/001.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-7318324173535592355</id><published>2008-12-28T23:31:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-28T23:47:27.676-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Eve</title><content type='html'>Christmas Eve was a great day...it always is. We had some good news from Kurt's cousin &amp;amp; wife that they are expecting a baby...err...two babies in the summer. Identical twins....wow! It was such great news. They also revealed that they were the person logging on from New Jersey, although that is not where they live. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ahh&lt;/span&gt;...i will sleep better now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We celebrated at Kurt's mom's house. There is always a big group there, but unfortunately we don't eat like the amount of food that was there. The kids had fun playing with their cousins and opening gifts. It was just the start of the Christmas madness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My boyfriends&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SVhTNLn0HoI/AAAAAAAAAtg/QHjfIyjYt7g/s1600-h/013.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285065648642465410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SVhTNLn0HoI/AAAAAAAAAtg/QHjfIyjYt7g/s400/013.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The kids were playing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Uno&lt;/span&gt;. Which reminded me of Christmas Eves of my youth. As a kid, we celebrated Christmas Eve with my mom's family and there was always a mean game of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Uno&lt;/span&gt; played. They weren't playing as dirty...perhaps next gathering I can &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;introduce&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Gramps&lt;/span&gt;' version of the family game.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SVhTMnaciMI/AAAAAAAAAtY/0FPtY6xnQwg/s1600-h/005.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285065638922717378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SVhTMnaciMI/AAAAAAAAAtY/0FPtY6xnQwg/s400/005.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Katie, Julia &amp;amp; Meghan&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SVhTMD6ZjKI/AAAAAAAAAtQ/WJr5ZSXUvTk/s1600-h/002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285065629393063074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SVhTMD6ZjKI/AAAAAAAAAtQ/WJr5ZSXUvTk/s400/002.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SVhTKyMaPSI/AAAAAAAAAtA/yA5qLsMm0ck/s1600-h/018.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285065607456898338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SVhTKyMaPSI/AAAAAAAAAtA/yA5qLsMm0ck/s400/018.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; At the end of the night, the kids were pretty tired out. But not too tired to leave Santa a cookie and some carrots. I wish I was 4 again. Although, Julia wondered how Santa would get through our fireplace since the glass doors are sealed shut. How long will the answer "Because he's magic!" really work?&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/2282864000533678487-7318324173535592355?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/7318324173535592355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=7318324173535592355' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/7318324173535592355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/7318324173535592355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2008/12/christmas-eve.html' title='Christmas Eve'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SVhTNLn0HoI/AAAAAAAAAtg/QHjfIyjYt7g/s72-c/013.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-5488935704060533432</id><published>2008-12-28T23:24:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-28T23:30:32.564-05:00</updated><title type='text'>And More Cookies</title><content type='html'>Our family from out of town is back with us for the holidays and the girls helped us decorate the sugar cookies. It was fun. It reminded me of when Christina &amp;amp; Meghan were like 4 and 8 when we decorated cookies together...it was just yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SVhRb6bA8SI/AAAAAAAAAs4/AVkAK7l2plw/s1600-h/004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285063702700159266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SVhRb6bA8SI/AAAAAAAAAs4/AVkAK7l2plw/s400/004.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SVhRb9VDMeI/AAAAAAAAAsw/aAM38kYzBTQ/s1600-h/006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285063703480447458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SVhRb9VDMeI/AAAAAAAAAsw/aAM38kYzBTQ/s400/006.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And proof as to why we kept the cookies Julia decorated at home just for us...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SVhRbhBXKxI/AAAAAAAAAso/YJT5P4jhiyY/s1600-h/007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285063695881677586" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SVhRbhBXKxI/AAAAAAAAAso/YJT5P4jhiyY/s400/007.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Christina...15 years old&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SVhRbAD4ywI/AAAAAAAAAsg/j4pPT4FKAJE/s1600-h/009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285063687033899778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SVhRbAD4ywI/AAAAAAAAAsg/j4pPT4FKAJE/s400/009.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Meghan...11 years old&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SVhRbNm8ngI/AAAAAAAAAsY/aXmFm4NXX80/s1600-h/008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285063690670611970" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SVhRbNm8ngI/AAAAAAAAAsY/aXmFm4NXX80/s400/008.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-5488935704060533432?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/5488935704060533432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=5488935704060533432' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/5488935704060533432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/5488935704060533432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2008/12/and-more-cookies.html' title='And More Cookies'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SVhRb6bA8SI/AAAAAAAAAs4/AVkAK7l2plw/s72-c/004.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-1442228367839158153</id><published>2008-12-28T22:56:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-28T23:20:35.123-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Cookies</title><content type='html'>I love to bake. Christmas is fun, because it is acceptable to be constantly eating cookies and taking cookies everywhere we go. This year i made the doughs, rolled them into balls or cut them out in shapes and put them in the freezer a few weeks ago. It made it so much easier throughout the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;pre&lt;/span&gt;-Christmas &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;festivities&lt;/span&gt; to be able to bake a few dozen cookies here and there for whatever event we had. &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few days before Christmas I baked the cookies we would need for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day. I caught a few &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;thieves&lt;/span&gt; stealing and eating in the landing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285056558852798578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SVhK8FhE-HI/AAAAAAAAAqQ/Tp7zfNjX_O8/s400/004.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SVhK6qZTy6I/AAAAAAAAAqA/58I6HgMIZ94/s1600-h/001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285056534392589218" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SVhK6qZTy6I/AAAAAAAAAqA/58I6HgMIZ94/s400/001.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-1442228367839158153?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/1442228367839158153/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=1442228367839158153' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/1442228367839158153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/1442228367839158153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2008/12/cookies.html' title='Cookies'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SVhK8FhE-HI/AAAAAAAAAqQ/Tp7zfNjX_O8/s72-c/004.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-433488003369039535</id><published>2008-12-22T14:24:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T14:30:56.859-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sledding in the 'Hood</title><content type='html'>Saturday was the perfect day for the kids to play outside. The wind wasn't blowing and it wasn't too cold. Tim and Scott had started to build a giant hill out of some of the snow in the backyards so the kids could sled down a "hill" - it was a hit. I have a feeling it is going to take a huge warm up for it to melt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jimmy going down&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SU_p02uJNzI/AAAAAAAAAp4/TNFuuZSdm2U/s1600-h/012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282697982180407090" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SU_p02uJNzI/AAAAAAAAAp4/TNFuuZSdm2U/s400/012.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Julia Going Down&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SU_p0y9r_cI/AAAAAAAAApw/5uoeDpmFCCg/s1600-h/011.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282697981171858882" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SU_p0y9r_cI/AAAAAAAAApw/5uoeDpmFCCg/s400/011.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Julia &amp;amp; Megan &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SU_pzXl00zI/AAAAAAAAApo/G_FEakqL6KU/s1600-h/008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282697956644148018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SU_pzXl00zI/AAAAAAAAApo/G_FEakqL6KU/s400/008.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Kurt getting ready to "fly the bird at me"&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SU_pzGwPPQI/AAAAAAAAApg/2VAfxuhtCTQ/s1600-h/006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282697952124419330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SU_pzGwPPQI/AAAAAAAAApg/2VAfxuhtCTQ/s400/006.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The kids waiting in Line...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SU_pyyEtH8I/AAAAAAAAApY/X3U5GaHHv_s/s1600-h/003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282697946573119426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SU_pyyEtH8I/AAAAAAAAApY/X3U5GaHHv_s/s400/003.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Julia goes down the hill&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-3e5d9ebb487062a6" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v23.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D3e5d9ebb487062a6%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330372049%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D53984451A8BBC485C494E484F84E17E0D1298FC.389E5B5800AB406F2C207E6762801F779BE4B2A1%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D3e5d9ebb487062a6%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DFo-8ZEwYnyaLDdlk2q469ixJqhU&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v23.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D3e5d9ebb487062a6%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330372049%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D53984451A8BBC485C494E484F84E17E0D1298FC.389E5B5800AB406F2C207E6762801F779BE4B2A1%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D3e5d9ebb487062a6%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DFo-8ZEwYnyaLDdlk2q469ixJqhU&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&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/2282864000533678487-433488003369039535?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=3e5d9ebb487062a6&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/433488003369039535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=433488003369039535' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/433488003369039535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/433488003369039535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2008/12/sledding-in-hood.html' title='Sledding in the &apos;Hood'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SU_p02uJNzI/AAAAAAAAAp4/TNFuuZSdm2U/s72-c/012.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-1015336288325837475</id><published>2008-12-22T14:09:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T14:23:43.364-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Snow Day</title><content type='html'>I am not a weather watcher...I rarely watch the forecast, because they always exaggerate. But on a typical day, I don't turn on the TV to watch regular TV. It's cartoons in the morning and the cable radio stations (lately the Christmas station) play the rest of the day. Anyway, my neighbor Ellen dropped off some cookies on Thursday saying she was in a hurry...because we were going to get snow and there wasn't going to be school the next day. I heard her, but didn't "hear" her. I should always listen to Ellen when she discusses the weather. She practically lives by the radar...she probably is more qualified to read the radar than those yahoos on the TV. Anyway...I was in my own little world, because my long lost friend, Bettina, was coming to visit me...she lives in England now and I  haven't seen her in ages. Anyway, we spent the afternoon chatting while the kiddos played. But I had forgotten the warning given to me by Ellen. After the kiddos were in bed, Kurt mentioned all the snow we were supposed to get. I was like "what?" - he looks at me like I live under a rock. We turn on the 10pm news and it is all telling about the 8-10 inches we're supposed to get overnight. Friday I had a morning of shopping planned while Jimmy was at Moms' Day Out and his little Christmas Party....what if they were right and I wouldn't get to do my errands? I ran to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Meijer&lt;/span&gt; at 11:15pm to grab some Milk and Bread, just in case, because we were totally out. Me and all the other yahoos..they were almost totally out of Milk. Seriously. We live in a pretty large suburb and even if people were snowed in...they would be able to get to the store. It isn't like where I grew up...you may not get out for a few days and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Meijer&lt;/span&gt; being 10 miles away. Anyway, Kurt got up on Friday morning, showering...ready to make the trek to work...I hear the garage door go up and then &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;immediately&lt;/span&gt; back down. He came back upstairs and said there was no way he was going to kill himself trying to drive to work. There was a TON of snow. All the schools were closed and the kids went outside and enjoyed a little bit of one of the biggest snowfalls the area has seen since the 70s.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SU_mOnJEFjI/AAAAAAAAApQ/ZYV4bLIFuVY/s1600-h/001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282694026628437554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SU_mOnJEFjI/AAAAAAAAApQ/ZYV4bLIFuVY/s400/001.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SU_mOf7khOI/AAAAAAAAApI/rjfmLunRp-c/s1600-h/002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282694024692794594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SU_mOf7khOI/AAAAAAAAApI/rjfmLunRp-c/s400/002.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SU_mN5OvbVI/AAAAAAAAApA/dDaInJaw5fU/s1600-h/003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282694014304218450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SU_mN5OvbVI/AAAAAAAAApA/dDaInJaw5fU/s400/003.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Kurt &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;snow blowing&lt;/span&gt;...he hates the Cold more than anyone I know.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SU_mNeSyDoI/AAAAAAAAAo4/CGLtGQDRHG0/s1600-h/004.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282694007073410690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SU_mNeSyDoI/AAAAAAAAAo4/CGLtGQDRHG0/s400/004.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps from now on I will try to watch the weather...or just listen to Ellen. She knows what she's talking about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-1015336288325837475?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/1015336288325837475/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=1015336288325837475' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/1015336288325837475'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/1015336288325837475'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2008/12/snow-day.html' title='Snow Day'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SU_mOnJEFjI/AAAAAAAAApQ/ZYV4bLIFuVY/s72-c/001.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-1078958995798447176</id><published>2008-12-22T13:40:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T14:08:05.509-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Santa Comes to Preschool!</title><content type='html'>Last Tuesday was Julia's preschool Christmas Party. We are very lucky that her preschool celebrates Christmas...most preschools don't condone celebrating it for fear of offending the few that don't celebrate it. Fortunately most of the students' families celebrate Christmas or "Santa" - so we are good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Julia shows off her Cookie she decorated&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282690692124287250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SU_jMhJUoRI/AAAAAAAAAoQ/241IcGYTVks/s400/013.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jimmy Goofing Off&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282690721358890738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SU_jOODZRvI/AAAAAAAAAoo/O21bZaGCfvY/s400/031.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SU_jOX7y6PI/AAAAAAAAAow/lCC8kbW7P0c/s1600-h/035.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Julia's preschool teacher, Mrs. L's partner (I am not sure what the back story is, but I assume that she was once married and now late in life finds herself with a boyfriend/partner...no sense in  making it legal at this point in their lives). Anyway...he is a professional Santa...and he totally looks the part. He was great with the kids. Julia later told me that she didn't think he was the "real" Santa, because he didn't have a "red" nose and the real Santa does. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Julia tells Santa What She Wants for Christmas&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-ed9a87907d94522e" 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://v7.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Ded9a87907d94522e%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330372049%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D103A88B81EE535427604824DB77286A04E9CE678.27C428000FE9E230A351538669B42C6CBDCF24B9%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Ded9a87907d94522e%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DPUaELNjnPt2KG3Mossu_gOfhcB8&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://v7.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Ded9a87907d94522e%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330372049%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D103A88B81EE535427604824DB77286A04E9CE678.27C428000FE9E230A351538669B42C6CBDCF24B9%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Ded9a87907d94522e%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DPUaELNjnPt2KG3Mossu_gOfhcB8&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jimmy ran right up to him to tell him he wanted Cars...go figure.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SU_jNOKErVI/AAAAAAAAAoY/OwB9w9fhE-0/s1600-h/036.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282690704207031634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SU_jNOKErVI/AAAAAAAAAoY/OwB9w9fhE-0/s400/036.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282690711573194386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SU_jNpmTZpI/AAAAAAAAAog/Csi-o5CU51U/s400/043.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-1078958995798447176?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=ed9a87907d94522e&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/1078958995798447176/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=1078958995798447176' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/1078958995798447176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/1078958995798447176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2008/12/santa-comes-to-preschool.html' title='Santa Comes to Preschool!'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SU_jMhJUoRI/AAAAAAAAAoQ/241IcGYTVks/s72-c/013.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-4004251788497284866</id><published>2008-12-15T23:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-15T23:33:58.024-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Things They Say &amp; Do</title><content type='html'>&lt;ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;We have moved pretty much all the kids toys off the ground floor and all of their toys are in the basement or in their rooms. So now Jimmy dances by the basement door shouting "Base! Base!"&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Julia is really into Wizard of Oz and she refers to the Tornado as the "Big Tomato"&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;When Jimmy wants to be carried he throws his body at your legs and says "Care, Care!"&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Julia asked me if we see a witch in our house that she's going to "cut her throat"....a little disturbing... not sure where she saw or heard of that.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Every night before bed, Julia asks me if Santa is coming tonight - despite our best efforts with the Advent Calendar.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Julia can't wait to give us our Christmas gifts she made for us at school. She tells me every day what she made for Kurt, but tells me that she can't tell me what she's made for me...her lips are "zipped" - although she was rambling in the backseat about it the other day and said what it was by accident and her hand went to her mouth. I acted like I thought she said Dinosaur...she looked relieved.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-4004251788497284866?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/4004251788497284866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=4004251788497284866' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/4004251788497284866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/4004251788497284866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2008/12/things-they-say-do.html' title='Things They Say &amp; Do'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-5723728981795715199</id><published>2008-12-15T13:28:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-15T13:41:22.630-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wasted Weekend...</title><content type='html'>Ugh. The weekend was planned so carefully...so perfectly. The kids went to my moms for the weekend so we could get some things done around here. Friday night went without a hitch...Kurt and I grabbed dinner at our favorite stir fry place (even though we didn't have the $5 coupon...we treated ourselves). Afterwards, we headed to Toys R Us with all the other crazy parents on their date nights...figuring out what to get the kids that have everything that don't need anything that everyone buys stuff for leaving Santa perplexed with what to bring. Grateful though. Anyway...we later hit the mall and even got a coffee on the way home. All was well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I barely slept all night...tossed and turned. Blamed it on the caffeine in the coffee...I am getting up there in age now. Got up, ready to attack my day and get some serious shopping done, so I could enjoy the weeks to come. I had a stomach ache and was tired, but didn't think much of it. Blamed the stir fry. So, I am filled with the shopping spirit, not deterred by the long A$$ line at Kohl's and it hit me like a ton of bricks. The ache, the sweat, the nausea, the need to just crawl up on one of those fake beds. I literally, had to put my purchases back, because I couldn't bear to stand in line for fear that I may pass out. I made it home - all of 5 minutes...thinking that i may just pass out in the car. Then I proceeded to basically sleep all day, missing the neighborhood Christmas Party, then sleeping all night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fortunately it was a 24 hour thing, because Sunday I felt much better...but I basically lost a day. The only good that came out of the Saturday sleep fest was that in my bouts of awakeness, I watched a sappy girl movie - PS I Love You and watched about 4 episodes of ER that were on the DVR.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now this week I need to catch up. I think that Saturday was God's way of telling me to slow down and realize that it will all get done...take some time to just VEG out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-5723728981795715199?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/5723728981795715199/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=5723728981795715199' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/5723728981795715199'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/5723728981795715199'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2008/12/wasted-weekend.html' title='Wasted Weekend...'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-5937177520209645664</id><published>2008-12-11T15:05:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T15:11:51.596-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Your Kids Look Exactly Alike...</title><content type='html'>If I had a dollar for every time someone told me that my kids looked exactly alike I would be so rich. Honestly, I noticed it when the kids were babies, but it's hard for me to see now. I see them for who they are and not a matched pair. Someone even asked me the other day if they were twins. In this lady's defense, they were both seated...but seriously? Do they really look that much alike?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And don't get me started on the "Your Kids Look Just Like Your Husband" - at least there is no question of paternity here. I wonder if we had a 3rd if that child would also look like them or me? As intriguing as that question is though, I think we will hold with 2.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-5937177520209645664?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/5937177520209645664/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=5937177520209645664' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/5937177520209645664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/5937177520209645664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2008/12/your-kids-look-exactly-alike.html' title='Your Kids Look Exactly Alike...'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-2376084087645277885</id><published>2008-12-11T14:56:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-11T15:04:18.314-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello Santa!</title><content type='html'>So, I figured it was about time for us to go see Santa. I was a little unsure of how Jimmy would react to Santa this year. He sort of backed away, taking him all in and just yelling "Cars, Cars, Cars" at him. I guess he wanted to make sure that Santa knew what to bring him. Julia right away sat on his lap and told him some of the things she wanted, but told him that we would be mailing a letter to him soon. I forgot it. Bad mom. Jimmy warmed up and sat on Santa's lap. I was very happy with the photo. One of my friends told me that her friend said that this particular Santa wanted to tickle her girls. I didn't find him the least bit creepy. It's sad that you have to "worry" about the Santa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SUFwpWp1B3I/AAAAAAAAAoI/yKKP5-hLX8Y/s1600-h/Julia+%26+Jimmy+with+Santa+2008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278624094012901234" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 388px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SUFwpWp1B3I/AAAAAAAAAoI/yKKP5-hLX8Y/s400/Julia+%26+Jimmy+with+Santa+2008.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Merry Christmas!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-2376084087645277885?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/2376084087645277885/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=2376084087645277885' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/2376084087645277885'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/2376084087645277885'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2008/12/hello-santa.html' title='Hello Santa!'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/SUFwpWp1B3I/AAAAAAAAAoI/yKKP5-hLX8Y/s72-c/Julia+%26+Jimmy+with+Santa+2008.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-5759002262305869640</id><published>2008-12-08T00:11:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-08T00:48:51.603-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Tis the Season...</title><content type='html'>So, it seems like i can't keep up lately. I feel like I am constantly running like a week behind and can never seem to get ahead. One of these days I am going to get everything together and just be waiting for things to do or be that person who works on Christmas crafts and presents in the summer or early fall. But I guess I am just not that person. I am me and I tend to work best under &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;pressure&lt;/span&gt;. Anyway...sorry for the infrequency of posting, but I am sure that this will just be how this month goes. I am sure that once January hits, I will be back to multiple posts each week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been trying to get my house decorated for the holidays and it is taking me forever. We got back from visiting the family last weekend, so I have been working on it all week. I used a "warm" day this week (it was 40) to put the outside lights up. And have been trying to clean up the house to prepare it for decorating. Finally, Kurt brought up the tree on Friday night and i finally fluffed it late on Saturday night in preparation of the family photo that was to take place on Sunday. We skipped mass to get a good start on decorating the tree before the family arrived. Julia has been asking us all week when we are going to get our tree decorated, so she was pretty excited to help put the decorations up, especially my Wizard of Oz collection. When we were in Kansas City, she saw Wizard of Oz for the first time. She saw it once. And she knows every part. Verbatim. She has the memory of a steel trap. Not to say that she is a genius, but she will give a "book report" of what happens in the movie and sings the songs. I don't know. Anyway, she had to put the decorations up in the order of appearance of the characters in the movie and she got it right. Perhaps she is our golden ticket. It's not like our 401(k)s are doing anything for us lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, this morning Mom &amp;amp; Earle, Lib, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Trav&lt;/span&gt; and Olivia and Kurt's mom came over for Sunday dinner. I made a mean chicken &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Parmesan&lt;/span&gt; that melted in your mouth. I love to cook. Anyway, the purpose for this get together was also to have our family Christmas photos taken. Much to my protest (and the major protest of my husband), my mom still insists on an entire family photo for her Christmas cards. We &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;accommodated&lt;/span&gt; her request yet again, although I am 33 years old. She got her nice photo. Merry Christmas Mom!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mom &amp;amp; the Kids&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/STys-VZmxcI/AAAAAAAAAoA/yXupKdDltn8/s1600-h/007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277283050267788738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/STys-VZmxcI/AAAAAAAAAoA/yXupKdDltn8/s400/007.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Olivia &amp;amp; Julia being silly&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/STys97rClcI/AAAAAAAAAn4/i0suPSW4x3c/s1600-h/003.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277283043361592770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/STys97rClcI/AAAAAAAAAn4/i0suPSW4x3c/s400/003.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;One of this week's stresses will be getting out the Christmas Cards. Speaking of which, both my sister and I were very disappointed in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Sams&lt;/span&gt; Club and Costco's collection of photo cards this year. We both felt pretty strongly about the cards saying Merry Christmas instead of Happy Holidays or Seasons Greetings. But there were way cuter cards that said the later. So we both ended up with cards that said what we didn't want to say. Ugh, but at least I was able to have Merry Christmas written on mine...she wasn't. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Ahh&lt;/span&gt;...the world is just too PC these days. It's Christmas people. Get over the fact that some people don't celebrate it. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Alot&lt;/span&gt; of people do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other stress of the week will be finalizing the craft that I am running for my moms group this week. I hope everyone will like the craft. I think it will be fun for everyone and a good time to chat and catch up with all the gals. I have missed about a month's worth of meetings and I miss them all. I am so fortunate to have found such a great moms group. It has really connected me to my church, as well as the community and given me some great friends.&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/2282864000533678487-5759002262305869640?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/5759002262305869640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=5759002262305869640' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/5759002262305869640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/5759002262305869640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2008/12/tis-season.html' title='Tis the Season...'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/STys-VZmxcI/AAAAAAAAAoA/yXupKdDltn8/s72-c/007.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-9190549327002025022</id><published>2008-12-03T00:56:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T01:02:27.185-05:00</updated><title type='text'>You are my Sunshine!</title><content type='html'>Such unhappy kids...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/STYgp7P3ZBI/AAAAAAAAAnw/SObMjvRrOXg/s1600-h/006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275439918162076690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/STYgp7P3ZBI/AAAAAAAAAnw/SObMjvRrOXg/s400/006.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/STYgpjNLB1I/AAAAAAAAAno/WCfpbw3PZc0/s1600-h/015.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275439911708329810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/STYgpjNLB1I/AAAAAAAAAno/WCfpbw3PZc0/s400/015.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/STYgpdsMLTI/AAAAAAAAAng/likjbtiVgT8/s1600-h/014.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275439910227815730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/STYgpdsMLTI/AAAAAAAAAng/likjbtiVgT8/s400/014.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/STYgpOShjDI/AAAAAAAAAnY/4gDJ-aWXOZc/s1600-h/013.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275439906093632562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/STYgpOShjDI/AAAAAAAAAnY/4gDJ-aWXOZc/s400/013.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/STYgJqv8_lI/AAAAAAAAAnQ/jQV-zghuCCI/s1600-h/012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275439363977444946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/STYgJqv8_lI/AAAAAAAAAnQ/jQV-zghuCCI/s400/012.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/STYgJelLhnI/AAAAAAAAAnI/Wit55IDsWpI/s1600-h/011.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275439360711034482" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/STYgJelLhnI/AAAAAAAAAnI/Wit55IDsWpI/s400/011.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/STYgJBFzpOI/AAAAAAAAAnA/qkEtkMkZvqY/s1600-h/010.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275439352794817762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/STYgJBFzpOI/AAAAAAAAAnA/qkEtkMkZvqY/s400/010.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/STYgI48lX2I/AAAAAAAAAm4/SO5yLoqHzDs/s1600-h/009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275439350608650082" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/STYgI48lX2I/AAAAAAAAAm4/SO5yLoqHzDs/s400/009.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/STYgIdM9iCI/AAAAAAAAAmw/gXSTg9cNx6o/s1600-h/008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275439343161149474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 268px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/STYgIdM9iCI/AAAAAAAAAmw/gXSTg9cNx6o/s400/008.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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 class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2282864000533678487-9190549327002025022?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/9190549327002025022/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=9190549327002025022' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/9190549327002025022'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/9190549327002025022'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2008/12/you-are-my-sunshine.html' title='You are my Sunshine!'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/STYgp7P3ZBI/AAAAAAAAAnw/SObMjvRrOXg/s72-c/006.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-3419174170650357753</id><published>2008-12-03T00:33:00.009-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T00:56:10.876-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Trains...like he needed more to Fuel the Fire.</title><content type='html'>Jimmy is totally into Trains and Cars. It is actually sick...like my kids can't just casually be into something. They have to do it totally over the top. So Uncle Jimmy takes us to this place to eat lunch where you order your food on a phone and is then delivered it to your table via an overhead train that somehow knows where to go and dumps your food onto a platform that lowers to your table. It was a little odd and I kept worrying that it was going to malfunction and I'd be covered with burgers and fries. Anyway, the kids loved it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-7ab3a3a36237da91" 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://v13.nonxt3.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D7ab3a3a36237da91%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330372049%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D498FF5BFAA2A979189B4E7C9068EF0CCEBC97DE6.706BEE1230B0C9E18D564123E8F00F78C6CC747%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D7ab3a3a36237da91%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D1l8qp8R2ZztOHBeU68LolGEqAyc&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://v13.nonxt3.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D7ab3a3a36237da91%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330372049%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D498FF5BFAA2A979189B4E7C9068EF0CCEBC97DE6.706BEE1230B0C9E18D564123E8F00F78C6CC747%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D7ab3a3a36237da91%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D1l8qp8R2ZztOHBeU68LolGEqAyc&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Julia and Uncle Jimmy...the Godfather&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275434619483564450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/STYb1gIdqaI/AAAAAAAAAmo/6vvGJXXwPXY/s400/002.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Jimmy watching the trains deliver food.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275434615164806770" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/STYb1QCypnI/AAAAAAAAAmg/iFMf74JYwF4/s400/001.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;To fuel the fire even more, on our way in we saw the largest display of model trains in Union Station. Jimmy was asleep, so he didn't see it. I think he would have had a stroke if he would have woke up right then and there. So we caught it on our way back. He loved it. He was just staring at all of it. Taking it all in. The displays were really intricate and well thought out. There was so much to look at besides the trains.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/STYa9n5D1CI/AAAAAAAAAmY/ruZzHZJZUuY/s1600-h/020.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275433659493766178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/STYa9n5D1CI/AAAAAAAAAmY/ruZzHZJZUuY/s400/020.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/STYa9f5XhSI/AAAAAAAAAmQ/IjNHrsSUFaw/s1600-h/023.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275433657347573026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/STYa9f5XhSI/AAAAAAAAAmQ/IjNHrsSUFaw/s400/023.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/STYa9EvZvaI/AAAAAAAAAmI/bdZI9MDHhjc/s1600-h/027.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275433650058018210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/STYa9EvZvaI/AAAAAAAAAmI/bdZI9MDHhjc/s400/027.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/STYa88UPlVI/AAAAAAAAAmA/oOib5ZNbcYk/s1600-h/031.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275433647796622674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/STYa88UPlVI/AAAAAAAAAmA/oOib5ZNbcYk/s400/031.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/STYa8qCp6nI/AAAAAAAAAl4/fofGd7CP9-M/s1600-h/030.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275433642891012722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/STYa8qCp6nI/AAAAAAAAAl4/fofGd7CP9-M/s400/030.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&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/2282864000533678487-3419174170650357753?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=7ab3a3a36237da91&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/3419174170650357753/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=3419174170650357753' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/3419174170650357753'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/3419174170650357753'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2008/12/trainslike-he-needed-more-to-fuel-fire.html' title='Trains...like he needed more to Fuel the Fire.'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/STYb1gIdqaI/AAAAAAAAAmo/6vvGJXXwPXY/s72-c/002.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2282864000533678487.post-5559562086703970819</id><published>2008-12-03T00:13:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-03T00:31:47.742-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Wii are Family</title><content type='html'>During our stay in at Jim &amp;amp; Patty's - we had a great time together as a family. Being together for a week really reminded me of the fun we have together and what we are all missing by not having each other in our daily lives. Anyway...every night after dinner, we would usually go down to play the Wii. I am not a big video game person, but I think the Wii is pretty cool. I will play a little here and there, but for the most part I sat on the couch and read (I managed to knock off 3 books while I was there). Kurt is totally into it...and he got Julia into it too. She was quite a bowler. I know what Kurt is asking for Christmas...same as last year. This year I think that Santa will give in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/STYXzoHTN4I/AAAAAAAAAlw/_OG4xJf1P4c/s1600-h/038.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275430189219919746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/STYXzoHTN4I/AAAAAAAAAlw/_OG4xJf1P4c/s400/038.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Julia was introduced to the DS...she wants one now. To Draw on.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/STYXzT67FsI/AAAAAAAAAlo/fg5kRoUDpEc/s1600-h/034.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275430183799297730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/STYXzT67FsI/AAAAAAAAAlo/fg5kRoUDpEc/s400/034.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/STYXzIjDAjI/AAAAAAAAAlg/WUig5CLjLlw/s1600-h/032.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275430180746363442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/STYXzIjDAjI/AAAAAAAAAlg/WUig5CLjLlw/s400/032.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My personal favorite was the fact that Kurt's mom was pretty into bowling. She would be right there playing with the rest of them...apparently she was quite the bowler back in the day and even had a 300 game. Who would have thought that a 68 year old lady would be such a gung ho Wii player. Go Mom....can't wait until Kurt uses you as the reason why he wants to get the Wii.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/STYXyvD0JJI/AAAAAAAAAlY/19aL3Of_dwE/s1600-h/037.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275430173904479378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/STYXyvD0JJI/AAAAAAAAAlY/19aL3Of_dwE/s400/037.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/STYXyPJok7I/AAAAAAAAAlQ/gR64rzV2AWw/s1600-h/039.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275430165338952626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/STYXyPJok7I/AAAAAAAAAlQ/gR64rzV2AWw/s400/039.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-a3314055c405010c" 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://v4.nonxt6.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Da3314055c405010c%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330372049%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D71DFDA5F09338490A7F8E15B8DC8881D15AA8BBC.174CD331F1F6B8EB2F1170DBC63D1B65BA97DCD2%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Da3314055c405010c%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D3oZBmCPxYFPym-mlu3HAvPSEZ38&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://v4.nonxt6.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Da3314055c405010c%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1330372049%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D71DFDA5F09338490A7F8E15B8DC8881D15AA8BBC.174CD331F1F6B8EB2F1170DBC63D1B65BA97DCD2%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Da3314055c405010c%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D3oZBmCPxYFPym-mlu3HAvPSEZ38&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&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/2282864000533678487-5559562086703970819?l=kkjjinthed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=a3314055c405010c&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/feeds/5559562086703970819/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2282864000533678487&amp;postID=5559562086703970819' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/5559562086703970819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2282864000533678487/posts/default/5559562086703970819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://kkjjinthed.blogspot.com/2008/12/wii-are-family.html' title='Wii are Family'/><author><name>Kate</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/00651753803096792063</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/S2uWecUWzkI/AAAAAAAABPw/zB64kINDECU/S220/111409+(19).JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_MwnRr-KzLHs/STYXzoHTN4I/AAAAAAAAAlw/_OG4xJf1P4c/s72-c/038.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
