tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-89797184689653416572024-03-18T03:19:25.671-06:00Stakerz XposedSarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10019665549525024932noreply@blogger.comBlogger203125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979718468965341657.post-22200414213205448222012-01-18T22:46:00.008-07:002012-01-19T01:24:44.374-07:00For Jane... and the girls!<div style="text-align: center;">When <a href="http://www.seejaneblog.co/">our bestie from Boston</a> visits during her birthday week, we ladies rally!</div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://s276.photobucket.com/albums/kk11/sarastaker/?action=view&current=IMG_5590R.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://i276.photobucket.com/albums/kk11/sarastaker/IMG_5590R.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /></a><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;">The guest of honor requested uniquely "<i>Utah-fare"</i></div><div style="text-align: center;">and<a href="http://lajollagroves.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span></span></a><span class="Apple-style-span"><a href="http://lajollagroves.com/"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#FFCC00;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">La Jolla Groves</span></span></a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> </span>never disappoints... </div><div style="text-align: center;">Every dish is de-<i>lish</i>!</div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><a href="http://s276.photobucket.com/albums/kk11/sarastaker/?action=view&current=IMG_5583R.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://i276.photobucket.com/albums/kk11/sarastaker/IMG_5583R.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">(Shannon, Susan, Jane, Becky, Caryn <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">{who apparently did </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">not</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;"> get the stripes memo!}</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">, </span><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Summer with Baby Graham & Me)</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Since movie picks were a bit on the scarce side, we opted for pedis instead!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">(They sort-of turned out to be "mini-pedis", really,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">and only for just </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">half</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> of us...</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">but the evening was really just about the </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">company</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">, anyways!)</span></div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><a href="http://s276.photobucket.com/albums/kk11/sarastaker/?action=view&current=IMG_5587R.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://i276.photobucket.com/albums/kk11/sarastaker/IMG_5587R.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">(Me, Caryn, Becky, Shannon, Daphne, Jane, Susan, Summer & Lil' Graham Cracker)</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">And please forgive me,</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">(maybe I'm feeling overly-sentimental..?)</span></div><div style="text-align: center;">but I just can't help saying</div><div><div style="text-align: center;">as I look at these ladies, I count myself blessed to be amongst them...</div></div><div style="text-align: center;">I see mothers... daughters... sisters... friends...</div><div style="text-align: center;">balancing so many things and doing so much good in our circles of influence, </div><div style="text-align: center;">no matter the size...</div><div style="text-align: center;">whether relatively small, or literally global in our reach. </div><div><div style="text-align: center;">I see creative energy that has no bounds.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Boxless.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Ever changing.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Unintimidated and unabashed.</div></div><div style="text-align: center;">Talent. Tenacity. Ambition.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I see <i>true beauty</i>, both inside and out.</div><div style="text-align: center;">We are loyal and kind.</div><div style="text-align: center;">We love fiercely...</div><div style="text-align: center;">Passionately.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Laugh. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>(A lot!)</i></div><div style="text-align: center;">And listen.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Compassionately.</div><div style="text-align: center;">We have suffered unspeakable, unimaginable loss.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Both individually, and even collectively.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Have struggled and overcome.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Have stumbled. Have risen. And continue to press forward.</div><div style="text-align: center;">And to thrive.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I see strength.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Raw, undeterrable discipline. </div><div style="text-align: center;">With grace. And unassuming poise.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I am amazed at breadth of experience we embody.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Such a spectrum...</div><div style="text-align: center;">Each our own heartaches. Disappointments. </div><div style="text-align: center;">And yet... Inconceivable triumphs.</div><div style="text-align: center;">And through it all, we smile,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Warmly. Genuinely.</div><div style="text-align: center;">With gratitude.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Committed to ensuring that the best is yet to come!</div><div style="text-align: center;">Oh, how grateful I am for each one of you, girlies!</div><div style="text-align: center;">How very grateful indeed!</div><div style="text-align: center;">My <i>friends</i>.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I don't see you all often enough, but oh how dear you are to me!</div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10019665549525024932noreply@blogger.com65tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979718468965341657.post-70849492822546878152011-01-13T23:47:00.001-07:002011-01-14T00:45:46.751-07:00In the Spotlight...<div style="text-align: center;">Our boys were featured in the Primary Spotlight section</div><div style="text-align: center;">of our ward's January Newsletter.</div><div style="text-align: center;">The write ups are so darling, I just had to share...</div><div style="text-align: center;">Our Primary Secretary is amazing!</div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><div style="text-align: center;"><i>(Thanks, Susan!)</i></div></span><div style="text-align: center;">Their interviews were a crack-up!</div><div style="text-align: center;">No shortage of personality in our house!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">{Hee hee!}</span></div><div style="text-align: center;">But I <i>do</i> get a kick out of hearing their perspective on things</div><div style="text-align: center;">and I <span style="font-style:italic;">love</span> to hear their budding testimonies...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>So...</i> Here's for posterity!</div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;">Ten year old Kaden Staker likes "The Hunger Games" series</div><div style="text-align: center;">because "the idea is so cool!"</div><div style="text-align: center;">He also likes the writing with it's twists and turns at every chapter.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Kaden would like to either be a computer animator or a football player.</div><div style="text-align: center;">He loves steak...</div><div style="text-align: center;"> Closely followed by spaghetti, orange chicken, quesadillas and french toast.</div><div style="text-align: center;">"I Love to See the Temple" is his favorite Primary song.</div><div style="text-align: center;">The humble and brave missionary Ammon is his hero.</div><div style="text-align: center;">He admires the way Ammon "served King Lamoni </div><div style="text-align: center;">and taught him that Heavenly Father was real."</div><div style="text-align: center;">He also thinks that it is "pretty cool that he cut off all the bad guys arms."</div><div style="text-align: center;">As for a mission, Kaden has narrowed his choices to either New York or Nevada...</div><div style="text-align: center;">New York because "there are lots of non-Mormons there to teach</div><div style="text-align: center;">and lots of cool things to see."</div><div style="text-align: center;">Nevada because "Las Vegas is there... and it needs help!"</div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://s276.photobucket.com/albums/kk11/sarastaker/Boys%202010%20Christmas%20Sweater%20Portraits/?action=view&current=IMG_4716R.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://i276.photobucket.com/albums/kk11/sarastaker/Boys%202010%20Christmas%20Sweater%20Portraits/IMG_4716R.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /></a><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center; ">~</div><div style="text-align: center; ">____________________________________________</div><div style="text-align: center; "><br /></div><div style="text-align: center; ">~</div></div><div style="text-align: center;">Ribs, Fajitas, steak, chicken nuggets, pizza, spaghetti, tacos & hot dogs</div><div style="text-align: center;">are all Trevan Staker's favorite foods.</div><div style="text-align: center;">As a future Fire Fighter he'll need all that protein to help repair his worn out muscles.</div><div style="text-align: center;">He wants to be a Fire Fighter so he can "save people and drive a big truck with lights... </div><div style="text-align: center;">and go really fast!"</div><div style="text-align: center;">Trevan likes to read "The Lemonade Wars" by Jacqueline Davies.</div><div style="text-align: center;">He also likes to read "I Love You Stinky Face" because it is his family's favorite.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Before he heads off to firefighter training, Trevan would like to serve a mission to New York.</div><div style="text-align: center;">He thinks New york is "awesome and there are so many people he could teach!"</div><div style="text-align: center;">Trevan's first scripture hero is Jesus-- "because he sacrificed His life for all of us."</div><div style="text-align: center;">He also admires Alma "for the way he changed his life after he saw the angel"</div><div style="text-align: center;">and "because he was an awesome missionary after that!"</div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://s276.photobucket.com/albums/kk11/sarastaker/Boys%202010%20Christmas%20Sweater%20Portraits/?action=view&current=IMG_4698R.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://i276.photobucket.com/albums/kk11/sarastaker/Boys%202010%20Christmas%20Sweater%20Portraits/IMG_4698R.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">~ </div><div style="text-align: center;">____________________________________________</div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;">"I Love You, Stinky Face" is also Daynen Staker's favorite book.</div><div style="text-align: center;">It's a good day when you get ot read your favorite book</div><div style="text-align: center;">and have "Macky Cheese" and "Chicky Nuggies" for lunch.</div><div style="text-align: center;">When Daynen grows up, he wants to be like his oldest brother, Kaden</div><div style="text-align: center;">and have big muscles like his daddy.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Daynen can't limit his favorite Primary Song to just one.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Currently, he has 3 favorites:</div><div style="text-align: center;">"I am a Child of God", "I Love to See the Temple"</div><div style="text-align: center;">and of course that old Primary hit</div><div style="text-align: center;">"You've Got a Friend in Me."</div><div style="text-align: center;">Daynen says he'd like to serve a mission in Disneyland with his green back pack</div><div style="text-align: center;">and quickly added, "Don't forget my green backpack, Mom!"</div><div style="text-align: center;">One day, Daynen's mom asked him to name his favorite scripture hero.</div><div style="text-align: center;">The conversation went something like this:</div><div style="text-align: center;">Mom: Daynen, who is your favorite scripture hero?</div><div style="text-align: center;">Dayne: Buzz Lipe-year! And Woody!</div><div style="text-align: center;">Mom: No, sweetie... Those are toys. Who is your hero from real life?</div><div style="text-align: center;">Dayne: Ummmm.... Justin Beiber!</div><div style="text-align: center;">Mom (and brothers, all laughing hysterically): No! Your scripture hero, Silly!</div><div style="text-align: center;">Dayne: Ummmmm... Spiderman!</div><div style="text-align: center;">Mom: No! He's not in real life or n the scriptures!</div><div style="text-align: center;">Dayne: Spiderman is <i>too</i> in real life! And he <i>should</i> be in the scriptures!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><i>(Guess we'll keep working on that! Ha!)</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://s276.photobucket.com/albums/kk11/sarastaker/Boys%202010%20Christmas%20Sweater%20Portraits/?action=view&current=IMG_4688R.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://i276.photobucket.com/albums/kk11/sarastaker/Boys%202010%20Christmas%20Sweater%20Portraits/IMG_4688R.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">~ </div><div style="text-align: center;">____________________________________________</div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;">"Kwinko, Kwinko Yiddo Staw" is wee Bronson's favorite Primary song.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Bronson's barely 2, but he already knows he wants to be a dad when he grows up.</div><div style="text-align: center;">He thinks chocolate milk, chips and ice cream are yummy in his tummy.</div><div style="text-align: center;">His favorite books are "I Love You, Stinky Face"</div><div style="text-align: center;">and "Good Boy, Fergus."</div><div style="text-align: center;">He says he likes it "cuz I knows all da words."</div><div style="text-align: center;">Bronson's scripture hero is his friend Jesus.</div><div style="text-align: center;">When asked where he wants to go on his mission,</div><div style="text-align: center;">he replied, "To infiniddy and beyond" Just like Buzz "Lipe"-year!</div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://s276.photobucket.com/albums/kk11/sarastaker/Boys%202010%20Christmas%20Sweater%20Portraits/?action=view&current=IMG_4661R.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://i276.photobucket.com/albums/kk11/sarastaker/Boys%202010%20Christmas%20Sweater%20Portraits/IMG_4661R.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;">Way to go, Boys!</div><div style="text-align: center;">We are so proud of you!</div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10019665549525024932noreply@blogger.com27tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979718468965341657.post-62778847821486677832011-01-11T23:11:00.003-07:002011-01-12T10:15:59.466-07:00Thank you, Mr. Lightyear...<div style="text-align: center;">To say Bronson is obsessed with <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Buzz Lightyear</span> might be an understatement.</div><div style="text-align: center;">If he didn't have a mother, he would watch Toy Story 1, 2 & 3 on a repetitive loop.</div><div style="text-align: center;"> All.</div><div style="text-align: center;"> Day.</div><div style="text-align: center;"> Long.</div><div style="text-align: center;">But Buzz is special...</div><div style="text-align: center;">Maybe because they've both been to "Infinity and Beyond",</div><div style="text-align: center;">I dunno.</div><div style="text-align: center;">He was, hands-down, B's <i>favorite</i> birthday gift.</div><div style="text-align: center;">He's his bedtime buddy. His playtime pal.</div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://s276.photobucket.com/albums/kk11/sarastaker/?action=view&current=IMG_5689.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://i276.photobucket.com/albums/kk11/sarastaker/IMG_5689.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /></a>~</div><div style="text-align: center;">And no one.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I repeat</div><div style="text-align: center;">NO one</div><div style="text-align: center;">messes</div><div style="text-align: center;">with</div><div style="text-align: center;">Buzz.</div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://s276.photobucket.com/albums/kk11/sarastaker/?action=view&current=IMG_5690.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://i276.photobucket.com/albums/kk11/sarastaker/IMG_5690.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;">Well, in all the loving, </div><div style="text-align: center;">Buzz's back panel has popped off.</div><div style="text-align: center;">It is somewhere in the Play Loft and is yet to be found and replaced.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Which leaves him with a bum wing that occasionally swivels loose and ends up dangling.</div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://s276.photobucket.com/albums/kk11/sarastaker/?action=view&current=IMG_5702.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://i276.photobucket.com/albums/kk11/sarastaker/IMG_5702.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;">Well...</div><div style="text-align: center;">This is unacceptable.</div><div style="text-align: center;">In. Every. Way.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Bronson becomes hysterical.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Nearly unconsolable.</div><div style="text-align: center;">He cries so hard sometimes he has actually passed out.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Literally.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Needless to say, we try to fix Buzz quickly.</div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;">Well, this morning on my morning rounds,</div><div style="text-align: center;"> Buzz was having... issues.</div><div style="text-align: center;">And our poor Little B was not a happy guy.</div><div style="text-align: center;">He did not sleep well last night, so he was a bit... unreasonable.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Quite so, actually.</div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;">But I handled it well, if I do say so myself.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Patiently, I took Buzz and quickly fixed the wing.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Easily popping it back into place.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Each time quietly showing Bronson how to do it himself.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Quietly reminding him to play a bit more gently.</div><div style="text-align: center;">To be a bit more careful.</div><div style="text-align: center;">And each time I hugged and kissed and rocked that sad, sad little boy back to happy.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Reminding him to breathe.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Stroking his head and cheek,</div><div style="text-align: center;">and eventually patting him gently on the bottom and sending him back off to play.</div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;">This went on for an hour.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I fixed Buzz a couple dozen times.</div><div style="text-align: center;">But each time Bronson broke him, </div><div style="text-align: center;">he was equally as hysterical.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Equally as quick to run him straight over, right to me.</div><div style="text-align: center;">And equally anxious for me to fix him.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I seriously began to consider just <i>replacing</i> him!</div><div style="text-align: center;">If Bronson hadn't eventually worn himself out in this process, </div><div style="text-align: center;">I might have actually given in...</div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://s276.photobucket.com/albums/kk11/sarastaker/?action=view&current=IMG_5679.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://i276.photobucket.com/albums/kk11/sarastaker/IMG_5679.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;">The wiser "big-picture" side of me</div><div style="text-align: center;"> had to talk the "helicopter-mom" side of me</div><div style="text-align: center;"> out of running straight to Toys-R-Us for a new Buzz.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Several times.</div><div style="text-align: center;">At that point, it seemed a reasonable, if not necessary solution.</div><div style="text-align: center;">But Bronson finally curled up on his beloved Puppy Pillow and drifted off to sleep,</div><div style="text-align: center;">broken Buzz and all.</div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://s276.photobucket.com/albums/kk11/sarastaker/?action=view&current=IMG_5678.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://i276.photobucket.com/albums/kk11/sarastaker/IMG_5678.jpg" border="0" alt="Photobucket" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;">{Sigh}</div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;">And then the lesson sunk in.</div><div style="text-align: center;">How many times have <i>I</i> done this?</div><div style="text-align: center;">Made the same choice, over and over expecting a different result?</div><div style="text-align: center;">Hoping I could haphazardly use the same carelessness</div><div style="text-align: center;">and not experience the same heartache?</div><div style="text-align: center;">And how many times have<i> I</i> run, broken wing dangling,</div><div style="text-align: center;">right to my Father in Heaven,</div><div style="text-align: center;">begging...</div><div style="text-align: center;">desperate for Him to fix it...</div><div style="text-align: center;">yet again?</div><div style="text-align: center;">Wondering if He could?</div><div style="text-align: center;">If He <i>would</i>?</div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;">And yet always His constant, loving reply.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Reassurance.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Consolation.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Unconditional patience.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Understanding.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Peace for my troubling soul.</div><div style="text-align: center;">He straightens the wing...</div><div style="text-align: center;">Then straightens the girl...</div><div style="text-align: center;">Then sends me back out on my way.</div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Oh, Buzz...</span></div><div style="text-align: center;">Dear sweet, Buzz...</div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://s276.photobucket.com/albums/kk11/sarastaker/?action=view&current=IMG_5700.jpg" target="_blank"><img src="http://i276.photobucket.com/albums/kk11/sarastaker/IMG_5700.jpg" border="0" alt="Buzz Lightyear" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;">Thanks for the lesson today.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">What more do you have to teach me?</span></div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10019665549525024932noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979718468965341657.post-59591791814768217202011-01-10T13:00:00.001-07:002011-01-11T11:01:00.225-07:00Sparkling afternoon...<div style="text-align: center; ">A very fine mist of snow has been gently falling since the wee hours this morning </div><div style="text-align: center; ">and has continued silently into this afternoon.</div><div style="text-align: center; ">It's so fine that you'd hardly even notice it </div><div style="text-align: center; ">if it weren't for your windshield needing an occasional swipe.</div><div style="text-align: center; ">~</div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqFvkn7P6yIg9ZQZAwmrOUEuDFF2vBx-TCzJ-91pQS9x-tOShoUjMst9B4NVabTq0FdR19cAZWTAD3w0LdiOPiYixq0OAZ9SUkW6tniD_I8tbDtsxCvj7zogx5eTppANQ_wYmj1unKeL6f/s400/snow+particles.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560988007919906386" /><div style="text-align: center; ">~</div><div style="text-align: center; ">It helped when the sun started to peek through a few hours ago,</div><div style="text-align: center; ">because now it sparkles as it cascades down from Heaven.</div><div style="text-align: center; ">~</div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4aTrnX-299Cuj_7SESz9n_4HkVMuiGBeoe_vaRperVDYqrsLL5904YQm7pj7R-NchlknmlNl6bIUym75RtR3I5moagqCWb5OT2e5PBHiVnbYt2bFnyfS4ZFlsKPc_AaKpJMOda7I4xz7E/s400/sparkly+snowfall.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560988663014957474" /><div style="text-align: center; ">~</div><div style="text-align: center; ">And everything previously gray and dingy</div><div style="text-align: center; ">has suddenly been covered with a fresh, sparkly clean coat.</div><div style="text-align: center; ">~</div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOhrboEffNRZ-Z95KnVM9IFTZ9Ela8qzzirnzthZ3f3vo6C-B1afpfhSN_QHOIJHAlBjCZ29Sl6iDukJ6yUB97OJhRwPpJ_lJX-Mw7DWB19eXGr8vgfoHZc6VppV8f54sowtp2Bh_TW3fL/s400/Sparkly+Snowfall+2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560988667553427138" /><div style="text-align: center; ">~</div><div style="text-align: center; ">You gotta hand this one to Mother Nature... </div><div style="text-align: center; ">The effect is quite stunning, I must say.</div><div style="text-align: center; ">~</div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNZAUQdohQFXgMzFnVhk25OyNPcKGY3KvKL5heMjo-8wW7eKFRre0WX2Nm1wqACU32XnH0OL5tx9PLLiRKAejvBVFtCxsCxopkbhXJTlqO7Wd3-MNO4Z2E24nXS0Ti9mQrLTBZYPqS6gHd/s400/snowfalling+4.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560988021866924338" /><div style="text-align: center; ">~</div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">(The pictures don't do it justice at all.)</span></div><div style="text-align: center; ">~</div><div style="text-align: center; ">Well, a little bit ago, </div><div style="text-align: center; ">as we backed out of the garage on our way out for a couple errands,</div><div style="text-align: center; ">Dayne looked out the window and gasped, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">"Oh, my!"</span></div><div style="text-align: center; ">I chuckled because it sounded so funny and so old-fashioned...</div><div style="text-align: center; ">not one of his normal expressions...</div><div style="text-align: center; ">"What?", I asked.</div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">"The sky is glittering!"</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large; ">,</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large; "> </span>he said.</div><div style="text-align: center; ">"Ha!", I laughed out loud.</div><div style="text-align: center; ">It really did look <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><i>exactly</i> like glitter</span>!</div><div style="text-align: center; ">~</div><div style="text-align: center; ">I looked back at him,</div><div style="text-align: center; "> awestruck, </div><div style="text-align: center; ">watching intently out the window as we pulled down the street</div><div style="text-align: center; ">~</div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 285px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBXbKfHhKreElcy5kYn9faQAq5T2Oi_QvsqR4pSmVYM3kSkHTF1vuOn1bv7aKMrbl1AycTHr_U0YQdRxOtXqtiU5qIltJWWSqsoCaQmYCAVolwbVUSSGAwKibWP8NOMSm9i4sNN_2Qaagm/s400/snowfalling+2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560988009374981154" /><div style="text-align: center; ">~</div><div style="text-align: center; ">and smiled to myself, </div><div style="text-align: center; ">so thankful for this little boy...</div><div style="text-align: center; ">his <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">enthusiasm</span>,</div><div style="text-align: center; ">his happy, pleasant, optismistic nature</div><div style="text-align: center; ">and his utter and absolute <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">zest</span> for life and all things in it.</div><div style="text-align: center; ">~</div><div style="text-align: center; ">Just then he whispered,</div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">"And it is so </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">bea-U-tee-full</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">, Mom!"</span></div><div style="text-align: center; ">~</div><div style="text-align: center; ">Yes, Daynen... It is beautiful.</div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"><i>LIFE</i> is beautiful!</span></div><div style="text-align: center; ">And I am so <i>blessed</i> to see it through your eyes!</div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10019665549525024932noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979718468965341657.post-85161243071708449312011-01-09T00:31:00.002-07:002011-01-10T02:15:08.894-07:00Only for Jane...<div style="text-align: center;"><i>Only</i> for our dear and beloved friend, <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><a href="http://rhodesingeneral.blogspot.com/">Jane</a></span>...</div><div style="text-align: center;">could I talk my husband into basically abandoning our beloved boys for over half a day...</div><div style="text-align: center;"> ignoring the freshly powder-laden mountain, softly beckoning...</div><div style="text-align: center;">braving the snowy roads...</div><div style="text-align: center;">and driving "<i>all the way"</i> up to Salt Lake for a <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Movie Maratho</span>n,</div><div style="text-align: center;">not to mention "strange" exotic food and entertainment.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Trust me...</div><div style="text-align: center;">My man had to be <i>well</i>-bribed!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">(Sitting through TWO movies in a day </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">and</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> the uncertainty of dinner at a new, somewhat questionable-sounding restaurant</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">is NOT his forte!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">He'd much rather have chosen an afternoon of skiing!)</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">But alas, he let me win this one...</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">And off we went.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">While everyone else in our group saw "The Tourist",</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">~</span></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 194px; height: 259px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzN20O1Y9zH6obD25c3IPvZE52x_zfHvTENia1D732mqKPEGInwbsL0-5xJWOYj9b55N6Mil8vjzbRzAawOodpdmNMU1Gpg5iFb2fuxOgBDLVVbyWFYTp3GXOIpuInTQeYrgHqlgnrNzTM/s400/The+Tourist.jpeg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560479199405852354" /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">~</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">(which we saw and I </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">LOVED</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"> a few weeks ago)</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">we opted to meet Danny and Angi for "Country Strong"</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">~</span></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 184px; height: 273px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBkGdJMcp_vLGLB5v_bIRmWwNmpwzkQRaDC7OBwaiFHxhekVArVlFXySmRJIARDvxoTEaSTa0sFeLmivhwTGmYwxLX9Uliyi6k1f8-fKm8-NAd1cZI2jfNlVt327W8mpMczJhZt3B059se/s400/Country+Strong+Poster.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560464653577485106" /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:medium;">~</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">which I thought was <i>great</i>, and Matt thought was... well, <i>grueling</i>.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">In my defense I make 4 points.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">First, I do love Gwyneth.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I just do.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Second, she made me want to be a Kelly Canter fan.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">~</span></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcDrpssmzcVGVsFzJdrQ9Y204hIxaDF-v4qC_0MVZydElnBVUZFYGYvE5VIbJ04t12CXjLPV2WG0HIMu7kd0FV2dqnsYS8abMWTZvV1lhF9K6RNYhsf_vxHjwZcScowKjpXI8Degf1EzoA/s400/Gwyneth+as+Keely+Canter.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560467884211118418" /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">~</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Really.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">She was darling.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">How could you not love her rockin' those leather jeans in this scene</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">with that eat-him-up cute little Travis?</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">~</span></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIMQXnStonP7dA9VkrCyPpX0PhzICY4aS2_ELcEn_2Hql2t9pgEiJE3QLs2ezgO8M4MQOhqarkKRyG3t9XmF-ynQYTja76uq1b8kAHNcfX4W1S9tVqQyD8BWgb8kydlbSTI2E068wBhJqH/s400/Kelly+Canter+with+Travis.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560467881026429138" /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">~</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Third, I found myself, against my better judgement, <i>really wanting</i> </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">her to pull her mess-of-a-life together and get well...</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:small;">(Which must mean she did a very believable job of </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><i>being</i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:small;"> a mess in the first place, right?)</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">And lastly...</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I am almost <i>ashamed</i> to admit how much I </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">LOVED</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> that gold dress from the Dallas Concert...</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">Wow.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">~</span></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtmwYRKhnxBAE58o8WG9qeAOPSS_xDSMGFN8Hr7RPMFPT8eHti3N-XCOUiZaJr-HgeTLFPLW4a395-0E4i2uAgpc4o0lFelTKzNE1HWR0ofkzMpHKFF4T5_iwZdp9uC8hPOsB2LusVQjef/s400/Gwyneth+in+Gold+Dress.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560467875324071810" /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">~</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">A-</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;">MAZ</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">-ing...</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">~</span></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 397px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqFwB4MMVs2wcG_So9oaOC21nt-PEVPlwBWjIBXen87z2F1RvOwXETfa7GGG8H-nrQQBlJAgG9EF_lYZ3C6L5Er5BeJyjWtSef-hAW65KdYtvp62nBHdJ5MnaSGNX57IBiqzyPs_w41dM5/s400/Gold+Dress.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560467875109740514" /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">~</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I could totally wear it at the kitchen sink doing dishes, right?</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Or while I fold laundry?</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">{Sigh}</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I guess it is <i>best</i> that my life holds no event worthy of me ever wearing such a gown.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Temptation gone.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">~</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">But on to dinner...</span></div><div style="text-align: center;">To try something different, Dusty chose Cedars of Lebanon,</div><div style="text-align: center;">which turned out to be a cozy little place with great ambiance,</div><div style="text-align: center;">fun, not-your-ordinary-everyday entertainment</div><div style="text-align: center;">and</div><div style="text-align: center;">INCREDIBLE food!</div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 391px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF_qIfKx-9CpZAnLIJ1xhpAEJaacXbxpIvyWTGDzfhnYgm0DE8-rPtBljMhyphenhyphent7pahNXsag0zIkKgNO8Eos__umETH07_Vl755jnra7xQKzBoflZwRplVnK-7EtIjnUnfgSnImSwLmtDfnc/s400/photo39.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560473152830894354" /><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;">Here are half of us...</div><div style="text-align: center;">Our party of 13 included the Blanchards, Us, Rhodes, Taylors, Birchalls, </div><div style="text-align: center;">Danny & Angi and Becky. </div><div style="text-align: center;">Who knew we'd be fans of Lebanese?</div><div style="text-align: center;">But <i>yum</i>! </div><div style="text-align: center;">It makes my mouth water and my tummy rumble just remembering it!</div><div style="text-align: center;">We will definitely make a return visit!</div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;">We also learned some very valuable life lessons...</div><div style="text-align: center;">Like... </div><div style="text-align: center;">Always wait to tip the belly-dancer until the music tempo slows...</div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 132px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha6nCMjcHdqzco5uKJEvArd8h51sC0h-OAx_4Qgg5RJh0wHslqFm_J7VIP-CLwGl45iYFNHu0s3WQTPaL2ci0mZoc2JJojaq1xLDtZciWIlG7A6TSnA_vHvBYGKfgNEfwGncHw1BPn4U2I/s400/lebanoncollagetwo.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560473136698117266" /><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;">And never accept an invitation to share a hookah</div><div style="text-align: center;">with the aging gentleman at the next table over.</div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 127px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9p8_Azg76HLmMKZ_6tMTkJbs2e9ctRpYzRxYoWaAi_9KHISFEFSWAZM5odZm6M0GtG1gHVdZqLfkvRtEvqAbJD784E67gh8NK-kDZcH9ppgzfsivE8m4BE5J8K_FW09qmPZwPOVTS0fKh/s400/lebanoncollagethree.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560473141556445890" /><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">(Seriously, Angi... what </span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">were</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> you thinking?)</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">And lastly, that 35 can look amazing if you welcome it and accept it with grace.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">~</span></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 130px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBE1J94oeWc_Zne3xDa2lz-44Utl98Hb3ftKi7mKNMAJ2uUI1STQhGLGqIL7EEKIVUw-aydqpCbhFNoDRM3bprs6X7Pqhr3573cCF_JUuQRX-FIixRQDZ8pu8AiTAMImjidv4HxVJnGCpf/s400/lebanoncollagefive.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560473151902787298" /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:medium;">~</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 131px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLD8TPCQriF0PzTkcJpczxUkPSYFuwyLeW2sUGj7wwI9GiDf0e3pZHKJN8tBfEJ9w_Qr2dq-UilVRRuzs1YPWO-3X_mI_axx4jzbMSr95BmgqHSMYPUBpaMTbfkaTSnvIj3TwZM5b-r0K-/s400/lebanoncollagefour.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560473145378233794" /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:small;">~</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">So Happy Birthday, again, Janey!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">We loved sharing it with you!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">(And please forgive me for swiping these pics off your blog...)</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">~</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Our evening concluded with full bellies,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">grateful that <i>only</i> the birthday girl had to participate in the belly-dancing spectacle,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">a darling birthday cake</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">(Way to go, Dusty!)</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">and then off to another movie.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">The late show was this little number... </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">~</span></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 270px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMvnTdmOeVO7Vpo1Wn-BjHwpu4sbQhG_FjML-hsyWOcYRmsS8cvIM_YVQTxPA-ukgkYG3UF0Ac6YuXT6mnEFROUpJSPvBWlid8Gw_SrzB1fBYt_C0Zx6YHbjt2Rbific1CJ0C67VhKcccg/s400/how_do_you_know_poster.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560476760302290354" /><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:medium;">~</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">which I still can not <i>ever</i> remember the name of</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">and was surprised </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">not</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> to love.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I thought it was just... ok...</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">But interestingly enough, Matty actually liked it better than the first!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Ha!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">I guess we're keeping things even, at least!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">~</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">So chalk up another super fun evening, friends.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Great company!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">My belly still hurts from laughing so hard!</span></div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10019665549525024932noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979718468965341657.post-35644906271917150202011-01-08T00:00:00.000-07:002011-01-10T02:06:41.678-07:00Friday afternoon was simply smashing...<div style="text-align: center;">I had a fun afternoon out with some of my favorite ladies...</div><div style="text-align: center;">It was<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><a href="http://rhodesingeneral.blogspot.com/">Janey's</a></span> Birthday Lunch.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;">She is a gorgeous, graceful <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">35</span>...</div><div style="text-align: center;">And she does it <i>oh so </i>well, already! </div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">She's just smashing! </span> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Simply <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">smash</span></i>ing!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;">Which is fitting since she chose <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Smash</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">Burger</span>...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">(Yes, the pun<i> is</i> shamefully intended...)</span></div><div style="text-align: center;">I'd never been...</div><div style="text-align: center;">But my Harvest Chicken Salad was<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> de-<i>lish</i>!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;">And the company was even better!</div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 391px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWUwfk1PI_U9K88o69gsBXyT03rexot02Q-bsBWxIoNcNJwMuipTkL1LHvCKRnPftCFwmddgmv9hNYWh0Fu3JBGxQpyKLIl567ivpCbx1YuwaQv__vHapmX4iby15LmXK3FJzbuh7EnjA8/s400/Jane%2527s+Birthday+Lunch+at+Smashburger.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560451496489824962" /><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;">Here are a few of us, </div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">(Left to Right: Jane, Daph, McKenna, Suz, Shan, Caryn, Me, Summer, Becky)</span></div><div style="text-align: center;">courtesy of Jane's i-phone and her super-fun, oh-so-retro Shake-It Polaroid Ap, </div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">(...which if you ask me, makes Jane and Summer look like oompa-loompas and me look like Raggedy Ann!</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span"></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Hee hee!</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Ah, well...</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">That's what I get for not packing my own camera, eh?)</span></div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10019665549525024932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979718468965341657.post-44069321654211275162011-01-04T19:45:00.005-07:002011-01-05T01:19:01.152-07:00How $17.99 may just save our sanity...<div style="text-align: center;">So they say, "Drastic times call for drastic measures."</div><div style="text-align: center;">Well, this drastic measure may have just saved our sanity...</div><div style="text-align: center;">Certainly, a good night's sleep...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">(And quite possibly also our marriage!)</span></div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;">So I did it today!</div><div style="text-align: center;">Took our drastic measure...</div><div style="text-align: center;">I've been thinking about it for a week, but couldn't quite bring myself to do it.</div><div style="text-align: center;">But today I finally broke down and bought it.</div><div style="text-align: center;">A nice, plush 42"round... <i>Puppy Pillow</i>.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Why, you ask?</div><div style="text-align: center;">Are we getting a puppy for our puppy-crazed boys?</div><div style="text-align: center;">Oh, no!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">(We're not <i>THAT</i> desperate!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">They are still just begging for now...)</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">~</span></div><div style="text-align: center;">Oh, no.</div><div style="text-align: center;">You see...</div><div style="text-align: center;">The puppy bed is for my <i>son</i>.</div><div style="text-align: center;">My baby.</div><div style="text-align: center;">The boy we all love...</div><div style="text-align: center;">It is for Bronson.</div><div style="text-align: center;">My sweet 2 year old who has decided he is done taking naps.</div><div style="text-align: center;">The very same child who I am convinced sleeps less than any other toddler on the planet.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Now, to be clear, this Puppy Bed is not meant as any sort of statement, for heaven's sake.</div><div style="text-align: center;">It actually represents a very diplomatic compromise.</div><div style="text-align: center;">One that has been months in the making.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Bronson, you see, has been battling with us for quite some time </div><div style="text-align: center;">over what he apparently feels are unacceptable sleeping accommodations.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Namely his C-R-I-B...</div><div style="text-align: center;">Yes, that's right. </div><div style="text-align: center;">It is definitely a four letter word.</div><div style="text-align: center;">And we have outlawed it in our home </div><div style="text-align: center;">to prevent the inevitable melt downs that even its' mere mention induces...</div><div style="text-align: center;">And so, as the kind, <i>loving</i>, ac<i>com</i>modating parents that we are,</div><div style="text-align: center;">we naturally offered him the alternative of double-bunking</div><div style="text-align: center;">in his brother Daynen's full-size bed.</div><div style="text-align: center;">This worked for several nights </div><div style="text-align: center;">and these two little peas in a pod were as snug as bugs in a rug...</div><div style="text-align: center;">Until Bronson rolled off in the middle of the night.</div><div style="text-align: center;">He wasn't hurt, thank goodness...</div><div style="text-align: center;">In fact he landed on pillows </div><div style="text-align: center;">that had been carefully placed on the floor </div><div style="text-align: center;">in case of just such an occurrence.</div><div style="text-align: center;">But it bruised his pride </div><div style="text-align: center;">and his confidence just enough</div><div style="text-align: center;">that another alternate site had to be located.</div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;">This time to big brother Kaden's side he went.</div><div style="text-align: center;">...Until he wore out his welcome.</div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;">And so the <i>real</i> battle began.</div><div style="text-align: center;">A turf war.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Waged on a king-sized mattress between two sheets, beneath our comforter.</div><div style="text-align: center;">It's not a new battle.</div><div style="text-align: center;">It's as ageless as the family itself.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Mommy and Daddy separated by the toddler, </div><div style="text-align: center;">who insists on sleeping horizontally in the middle.</div><div style="text-align: center;">If you have kids, you know...</div><div style="text-align: center;">No matter how many times you try to turn the little tike upright, </div><div style="text-align: center;">he always makes an "H" of us by morning.</div><div style="text-align: center;">And while Matt gets the warm, steamy breathing, half an inch from his face,</div><div style="text-align: center;">I always get the feet.</div><div style="text-align: center;">And usually to my head.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Or face.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Or both.</div><div style="text-align: center;">All.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Night.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Long.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Now, let me stop here to say how very grateful I am for this arrangement.</div><div style="text-align: center;">It is certainly preferable to many, many other alternatives.</div><div style="text-align: center;">And believe me...</div><div style="text-align: center;">I am NOT complaining...</div><div style="text-align: center;">It's just that, well... it is a bit... <i>tiring</i>...</div><div style="text-align: center;">after many, many,</div><div style="text-align: center;">many...</div><div style="text-align: center;">months.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Let me also invite anyone out there who thinks they have a better idea, </div><div style="text-align: center;">or one that we haven't already tried...</div><div style="text-align: center;">consistently for several weeks...</div><div style="text-align: center;">to come right on over and sleep-train our toddler...</div><div style="text-align: center;">I assure you.</div><div style="text-align: center;">We are very aware that it has become a battle of will.</div><div style="text-align: center;">That we, quite obviously are losing.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I also assure you,</div><div style="text-align: center;">it is decisive, selective and adamantly expressed.</div><div style="text-align: center;">And there IS no other acceptable alternative location.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Trust us.</div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;">A couple of times we have joked that <i>we</i> should just change bedrooms.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Or go sleep in our spare bedroom after he falls asleep.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Ha!</i></div><div style="text-align: center;">But no.</div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;">Instead, we have decided to embrace the opportunity.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Knowing it will eventually run it's course.</div><div style="text-align: center;">And that someday we will miss those wiggly little feet.</div><div style="text-align: center;">And that atrocious morning breath.</div><div style="text-align: center;">And the little boy they belong to.</div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;">And so we have conceded...</div><div style="text-align: center;">To something we would <i>never</i> have allowed from his brothers.</div><div style="text-align: center;">And been a crowded party of 3 for quite some time.</div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;">Recently, we have taken to making a little bed of pillows on the floor at the foot of our bed.</div><div style="text-align: center;">We even brought in a Bean-Bag from our Theatre...</div><div style="text-align: center;">But then he'd end up all sticky and sweaty (it's "pleather")</div><div style="text-align: center;">and all slumped over...</div><div style="text-align: center;">It didn't look comfy, at all.</div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;">But it did give me the idea.</div><div style="text-align: center;">"A giant pillow", I thought.</div><div style="text-align: center;">That could be stored under the end of our bed.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Out of sight, beneath the bedskirt, by day.</div><div style="text-align: center;">And loved, by all, at night.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Just an extension of our bed, really.</div><div style="text-align: center;">An annex.</div><div style="text-align: center;">But safely at floor's level.</div><div style="text-align: center;">And with room enough to spare for all of us...</div><div style="text-align: center;">I smile, yawn and stretch just thinking about it!</div><div style="text-align: center;">.</div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3Xc9O_NO1OAvqusql8x4StMm8WI_Hto7rNDHqJYdtMUF607yzCL7boMKDn6PiNH8-fU1_6vea5IcUtUyFvpG4zXdjWnK1c3d85Cp_a51BGCFz7PYnfkelEQ4kjMpbB0R4vDzxkxVC14c8/s400/2011-01-04+15.32.16.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558608764247366786" /><div style="text-align: center;">.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Surely, I am not the first to think of this,</div><div style="text-align: center;">but still, I felt proud of this brilliant solution.</div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;">And further more, I would make one, the crafty side of me decided.</div><div style="text-align: center;">But alas, the busy-mom-at-Christmas side of me has not quite gotten to it yet.</div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;">And then...</div><div style="text-align: center;">Then, I saw the Puppy Pillows at Costco.</div><div style="text-align: center;">For the very low price 0f $17.99.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I could not buy the fabric, let alone the stuffing for that!</div><div style="text-align: center;">But it was a <i>DOG</i> BED!</div><div style="text-align: center;">And this was my <i>SON</i>!</div><div style="text-align: center;">I just could not quite wrap my mind around that...</div><div style="text-align: center;">Until,</div><div style="text-align: center;">Today.</div><div style="text-align: center;">And it has been pure Puppy-Pillow <i>LOVE</i> all afternoon!</div><div><div style="text-align: center;">In fact, I only narrowly escaped Costco , without a matching set! </div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:small;">(Dayne wanted one for himself and I nearly had to buy two!)</span></div></div><div style="text-align: center;">.</div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9jp865JgMFcYd0tTVxiv7UKifR7CYA6wdh0wMMU7q_JJZdQg7ZDS-aIk_A75CoisV7VL-VD0BgDK3VYUqwOk6hZhr9U5Xbks9CDCXy5uKZf35pvt5uyS_-Pb67nGDJa-dZoamR9bKSZZG/s400/2011-01-04+15.33.28.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558608772330432706" /><div style="text-align: center;">.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:16px;">It might also be the new favorite <i>movie</i> spot!</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:16px;">.</span></span></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTKetLD9hciTAJJd2brX3k2oM0L631PIhbtjdnYHcwOWsk2Cs9828KV3WuxAUYsdueRhprjzmx_2_tF6PUzesoYSECXmaovLk9spgId2NNT7bnYSsBmRpWuUxBTFoQSC8d8reE0eKZDNtj/s400/2011-01-04+15.35.21.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558608757143972482" /><div style="text-align: center;">.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">~</span></div><div style="text-align: center;">And aaaah! </div><div style="text-align: center;">I can feel a good night's rest coming on, already! </div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10019665549525024932noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979718468965341657.post-61510038722965287842011-01-01T01:11:00.002-07:002011-01-12T00:37:15.241-07:00"Humble Abundance"...<div style="text-align: center;">I am not making <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">resolutions</span> this year...</div><div style="text-align: center;">Not because I know I'll fail,</div><div style="text-align: center;">but because I want to succeed without their limitations.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Instead, I am adopting a theme for the year...</div><div style="text-align: center;">A <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">guideline</span>.</div><div style="text-align: center;">One adopted from the words of a new friend, spoken a few months ago.</div><div style="text-align: center;">She paid an unexpected compliment.</div><div style="text-align: center;">One that I hope to someday deserve.</div><div style="text-align: center;">She said, "When I come into your home I feel immediately "at home". </div><div style="text-align: center;">I feel embraced by the <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">humble abundance</span> you have created within it."</div><div style="text-align: center;">I'm not going to lie...</div><div style="text-align: center;">I was flattered.</div><div style="text-align: center;">And yet felt somewhat, if not <i>completely</i>, undeserving.</div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;">But her words have stuck with me.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I've thought so much about that phrase...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">"Humble abundance."</span></div><div style="text-align: center;">And that is what I hope to acquire this year.</div><div style="text-align: center;">A feeling of cherishing and embracing that which is most dear...</div><div style="text-align: center;">And loving it like crazy.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Over the top.</div><div style="text-align: center;">All the way.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I am not going to pretend to try to <i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">simplify</span></i>.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I'm no good at that.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I'm just not a simple girl, I guess.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I'm all or nothing.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I have <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">big</span> ideas.</div><div style="text-align: center;">And an excess of energy.</div><div style="text-align: center;">And unfortunately, I am tenacious (maybe even stubborn?) enough </div><div style="text-align: center;">to actually see them through.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I've come to realize I'll probably always be an overachiever.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Certainly a pleaser.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Always a giver.</div><div style="text-align: center;">It's my love language.</div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;">But I aspire to chose wisely where to spend myself...</div><div style="text-align: center;">Not to be stingy,</div><div style="text-align: center;">but to be <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">thoughtful</span>.</div><div style="text-align: center;">And <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">balanced</span>.</div><div style="text-align: center;">And to <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">embrace</span> and <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><i>share</i></span> the abundance all around me.</div><div style="text-align: center;">In every realm.</div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">So cheers!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">It's a New Year!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 358px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8AwsX6Jk5euW_9ot_tOylVC6C2lHIf-6zaAYBHHWl14HOOPHeyzeFRKwunaMtxOgTAeNnhncAUYfWenPAWPVIwbpz3PqERoPG8vszvRJnhump0SpEGxo7rkWcXQo3BmJorI-CSnvFL5dQ/s400/cheers.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561199230936170130" /><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">May your 2011 be as wonderful as the one we hope to create...</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">And may a </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-large;"><b>"Humble Abundance"</b></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"> be yours.</span></div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10019665549525024932noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979718468965341657.post-42644535849112268832010-12-30T21:59:00.000-07:002011-01-03T22:46:14.539-07:00"Hoo-hoo" has an opinion?<div style="text-align: center;">I LOVE that my boys are strong willed.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I LOVE that they are driven, assertive and know what they want.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I LOVE that they stand up for what they believe in, without backing down, I really do.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I even LOVE their over-stated, sometimes quite surprisingly, <i>very</i> strong opinions...</div><div style="text-align: center;">Especially the ones that make me chuckle...</div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;">Well, we've been meaning to see this movie for a while and just hadn't made it yet.</div><div style="text-align: center;">You know, other priorities <i>first</i>.</div><div style="text-align: center;">But somehow it finally snuck up to the top of our list.</div><div style="text-align: center;">.</div><div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 270px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVw5qWiLOKBzoGGSVlEX4WKopC6k_P0jeWdJ84ZPyEewJ9U2j7PWJMOPtrh9_YSF77X72IF5e-QPRpUQUS6w7H48sp7a9YysoCroEXTTKxhHob3jEFmbX3J803yFghFpFeXt_jqyp9Yd8X/s400/Legend-Of-The-Guardians-The-Owls-Of-GaHoole-UK-movie-poster.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558191024592223858" /></div><div style="text-align: center;">.</div><div style="text-align: center;">So we took the boys out to the Buck-Flick...</div><div style="text-align: center;">We thought they would all LOVE it...</div><div style="text-align: center;">Ha!</div><div style="text-align: center;">Well, the big boys sat glued, as expected...</div><div style="text-align: center;">And Bronson, wild monkey,</div><div style="text-align: center;">took advantage of the nearly empty theatre </div><div style="text-align: center;">and ran up... </div><div style="text-align: center;">and down... </div><div style="text-align: center;">and back...</div><div style="text-align: center;">and forth...</div><div style="text-align: center;">and through... </div><div style="text-align: center;">the aisles...</div><div style="text-align: center;">just his little blonde head silently bobbing up and down, </div><div style="text-align: center;">glowing above the seat tops in front of us.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">{Sigh}</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Honestly...</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Who ARE his parents to </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">allow</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"> that sort of behavior?</span></div><div style="text-align: center;">So anyway, he and I missed half of it...</div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;">But it was our <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">D</span> who was the surprise!</div><div style="text-align: center;">...He is such a movie buff! </div><div style="text-align: center;">He'll watch anything!</div><div style="text-align: center;">And he has LOVED every <i>other</i> 3D movie that he's seen,</div><div style="text-align: center;">which is why <i>this</i> came as such a shock!</div><div style="text-align: center;">Halfway through, </div><div style="text-align: center;">upon my return from yet another run to the Lobby </div><div style="text-align: center;">with my crazy little maniac,</div><div style="text-align: center;">I found D slumped and scowling in his booster,</div><div style="text-align: center;">glaring at the big screen over the tops of his 3D glasses.</div><div style="text-align: center;">"D, what's wrong?", I whispered.</div><div style="text-align: center;">He gruffly and not-so-quietly whispered back,</div><div style="text-align: center;">"I want to go home!"</div><div style="text-align: center;">"What?", I asked, genuinely surprised.</div><div style="text-align: center;">"I <i>hate</i> this movie!", again, not-so-quiet.</div><div style="text-align: center;">"Why? What's the matter?", trying to soothe him.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Then <i>this</i>, increasingly louder and with pure and unmistakable spite,</div><div style="text-align: center;">"I <i>HATE</i> owls!"</div><div style="text-align: center;">Snickers from the handful of other theatre-goers within a few rows' vicinity*...</div><div style="text-align: center;">Well, there you have it...</div><div style="text-align: center;">Hooooo knew?</div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">*My apologies to anyone who was there, trying to quietly enjoy their night out...</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">But hey!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Glad we could help entertain you for the evening!</span></div><div><br /></div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10019665549525024932noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979718468965341657.post-70577034119711896342010-12-25T02:02:00.000-07:002011-01-12T02:21:02.755-07:00Merry Christmas to All...<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#990000;">And to all... </span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#990000;">A good night!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#006600;">(In case yours hasn't arrived yet, here's a peek at our Christmas Card...)</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#006600;">~</span></div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMWXoHN_wXSzI0VZw6fPJMbqALNIIWFEjOyS-Wn7l4DcjJXT58B8yacEzYiVeT4HiNg6-8LMD9sdm4fZRyrml6G_A0EO8mfW-vBiXZja0zT72HIMHIGPp6ghxr2opNlUJlnz6axkpMuUgk/s400/2010+Staker+Family+Christmas+Card.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561224470347795234" /><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#006600;">~</span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3cI5SjbVR8cOTGhBI759KnoBy94g-xce7bhWoPyZ2nc5ws3_CpPGR7SfBM4ob3v7yGWroTlxOUIkpaox2QxClqcxjupuytvbesVX4io5ezuWjr6QDk12POqDagrsN8mtxLxerXlpAGDuz/s1600/2010+Staker+Christmas+Card-+Back.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3cI5SjbVR8cOTGhBI759KnoBy94g-xce7bhWoPyZ2nc5ws3_CpPGR7SfBM4ob3v7yGWroTlxOUIkpaox2QxClqcxjupuytvbesVX4io5ezuWjr6QDk12POqDagrsN8mtxLxerXlpAGDuz/s400/2010+Staker+Christmas+Card-+Back.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561224461120399522" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#006600;">~</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">We love you all and are so grateful for your love,</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">prayers, friendship and support, this year and always!</span></div></div></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#006600;">~</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC9933;">Here's hoping this finds you happy, healthy </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC9933;">and enjoying the best of this glorious season!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#006600;">~</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">Much Love~</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#CC0000;">The Staker Family</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#006600;">(...All 6 of us!)</span></div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10019665549525024932noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979718468965341657.post-66949724250643279272010-12-22T08:35:00.002-07:002010-12-22T11:53:33.995-07:00HERE is a good place to be...<div style="text-align: center;">I know it has been forever since I've posted...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">More on that another day...</span> </div><div><div style="text-align: center;">But it suffices to say that it has been out of necessity...</div><div><div style="text-align: center;">Partly because I needed a bit of a break...</div><div style="text-align: center;">But mostly because we have just plain been busy enjoying life!</div><div style="text-align: center;">And enjoying it to it's fullest!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">(And when I say FULL-est, I do not believe it is an overstatement!)</span></div><div style="text-align: center;">Also, {sigh}... </div><div style="text-align: center;">As unreasonable as I know it is, </div><div style="text-align: center;">I can not seem to give up this crazy notion that I somehow need to "catch up".</div><div style="text-align: center;">At this point, I know that is not realistic, so I am going to try to just jump in.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Right here.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Right now.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Right. Where. We. Are.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Because where we ARE is a good place to be.</div><div style="text-align: center;">A very good place.</div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;">Today I am preparing for a Family Christmas Party, here at our home.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Tonight I will see Aunts, Uncles and Cousins I have dearly missed.</div><div style="text-align: center;">And as I tidy up and primp and polish our home to prepare for guests, </div><div style="text-align: center;">my gratitude for where we ARE overflows.</div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;">I have six beloved stockings hanging from my mantle.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Santa will fill ALL of them in just a few short days.</div><div style="text-align: center;">And we will ALL be here to enjoy watching one another </div><div style="text-align: center;">open the gifts we have so carefully selected for one another.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I could not be more grateful.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I feel as if I might burst.</div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;">A pile of Christmas Cards sits anxiously next to me on my desk,</div><div style="text-align: center;">waiting for me to find the time to finish addressing the envelopes.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I will get to them... I will.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Sometime.</div><div style="text-align: center;">For now, I am content to read "The Santa Claus Book"to 4 rowdy little sets of eager ears... Again.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Oh, yes.</div><div style="text-align: center;">The cards can wait.</div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;">They are darling, by the way.</div><div style="text-align: center;">The cards.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I can not wait to finish sending them.</div><div style="text-align: center;">The front is a surprise. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">(If I told you here, it would spoil it.)</span></div><div style="text-align: center;">But I will say this...</div><div style="text-align: center;">A new, current family portrait adorns the back.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">I adore it.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaSNjm4Ub_i5HPvErJk1sjSYOcbnFYZXA_NGT4_YSlZzzO_XzFXapyTpATIaaqPYG7V5jO63-NLX2D1QsP28UgBygCkK2MBbeDZhw5wXdYg2p4p7pK5-wl_Bwz4jyoe2X_kCoiReUTCEkS/s400/IMG_4829RBGT.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553576865087676034" /><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;">I gush with gratitude that we are ALL together to have it taken.</div><div style="text-align: center;">To preserve the memory of the year that changed us... FOREVER.</div><div style="text-align: center;">And that, in the end, despite what has crumbled behind us,</div><div style="text-align: center;">We are still standing... Together.</div><div style="text-align: center;">~ </div><div style="text-align: center;">And this might just be my favorite image in all the world today.</div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 335px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCcrYv1IvCYyKyVVqUdF-wKZXTG7Pwh0osvsgnpo3MnGuehthYlyDiQ0ltVJddBw-FcggZ7PSzUMpO0GQTNHiaN1YSXHvDca67Z_33Fg45KmyVWjhpeLSp-BS_ozr6_v6T4tcH7HEykRjY/s400/Miracle+Mousepad.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553561975902272306" /><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;">No further explanation needed.</div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;">There are 4 very sweet faces smiling up at me from the bottom of the card.</div><div style="text-align: center;">ALL of them growing, learning, thriving. HERE.</div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 133px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCl3KSFVAq2QQEtAJ8jHigsrv-u_CbyU5t5GzizJgn3VbeT8IveG7KFRUb7SNWe8pve6uC8zrOZNuVSnvTeVeyTrVotFPaSN0viCX0oHQh_UjJUdpnoDvFHgsVwy2u9KZnMX451b0PFCCb/s400/Boys+Christmas+Portraits.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553579960589389346" /><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div style="text-align: center;">Yes, HERE is a good place to be.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Home. Together.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Listening to Christmas tunes caroling out through our intercom.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Watching the snow fall through the fog outside.</div><div style="text-align: center;">In our jammies, making soup to serve to those we love.</div><div style="text-align: center;">Who will be here to see us and visit in just a few short hours.</div><div style="text-align: center;">I can't wait!</div><div style="text-align: center;">...Guess I better go shower!</div><div style="text-align: center;">~</div><div><br /></div></div></div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10019665549525024932noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979718468965341657.post-30961040770294543042010-05-08T23:24:00.002-06:002010-05-10T00:32:10.085-06:00A Tower of Cups and a Wheat Field...<div align="center">So we blend a lot of smoothies here at our house...<br />Several per day, usually.<br />We put them in clear plastic cups so they are easy to take when we are on the go.<br />Which is often.<br />But in an effort to be conservative </div><div align="center">(and since they melt in the dishwasher),<br />we wash and rinse the cups out,<br />then place them in the windowsill to dry<br />so that we can reuse them.<br />There are usually one... or two... in the corner of our windowsill.<br />But since we've had houseguests this week, we've made quite a few extra smoothies.<br />Even more than normal.<br />So we've had this little pyramid going...<br /><span style="color:#000000;">.<br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469519828920618450" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfwqosJSStGgmRnVSB18ym0fXSBfAcQhJBIFq1i4h0vcq9EqxIIAM3Y6Gbgnlozok2OWqaVz_bcLnvuBLzHx-7pBLt30mIsU0IowXwMVg-qk5M8TJgfJzChuU4CdENlL_SeEoMlAUg0EGO/s400/IMG_5811.JPG" />.<br /></span>Well, this morning, after breakfast,<br />I lifted Daynen up to the kitchen sink to wash his hands.<br />He looked at them and said, "Cool! Are doze Jesus cups?"<br />I wasn't sure I understood what he meant...<br />My mind was puzzling over whether he meant, </div><div align="center">Mmm... like really big sacrament cups, er what?<br />So I said, "What kind of cups?"<br />He repeated, "Jesus cups! Let's do the trick!"<br />Still confused, I said, "What trick? Show me."<br />He reached for the center cup on the bottom row and pulled it out,<br />explaining, "Like when Jesus dies and dey awe come tumb-wing down<br />and da choo-wuch cah-w-ashes."<br /><span style="font-size:85%;">(Toddlerese to English Translation: ... and they all come tumbling down and the church crashes.")</span><br /><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="font-size:85%;">.</span><br /></span>OH! </div><div align="center">Ha!<br />Right!<br />I couldn't help but smile as I caught on and realized what he was saying.<br />I guess he really WAS listening at Family Home Evening last week<br />when we had our lesson about <a href="http://mormon.org/mormonorg/eng/basic-beliefs/the-restoration-of-truth/the-great-apostasy">The Great Apostasy</a>...<br />We labeled some of those same plastic cups and then stacked them,<br />creating a tower to represent the Church as it was when Jesus Christ was here upon the earth.<br />Then we pulled out the bottom cup (representing Christ as the foundation of the Church)<br />and talked about how it all fell apart after his death and the martyrdom of the apostles.<br />We showed the boys how many of the same principles and ordinances of the gospel remained,<br />but explained that some were lost, distorted, misinterpreted or even forgotten.</div><div align="center"> We told them how these scattered pieces were used to build other doctrines </div><div align="center">throughout the ages, but remained incomplete until <a href="http://mormon.org/mormonorg/eng/basic-beliefs/the-restoration-of-truth/the-restoration-of-the-gospel">The Restoration</a>.<br />The big boys seemed to understand the object lesson,<br />but of course the little ones were <em>way</em> more interested in just building and crashing towers.<br />The rest went right past them.</div><div align="center">Or so I thought...<br />So imagine my surprise when my sweet, barely-3 year old replays the message to me.<br />All on his own!<br />Almost a whole week later!<br />It was one of those far-too-few-and-far-between "Parent Pay-offs".</div><div align="center">You know...<br />When you realize something you <em>thought</em> went right over their heads,<br />actually <em>stuck</em>.<br />Even just a little!<br />...Guess we'll keep at it!<br /><span style="color:#000000;">.</span><br />It also reminded me of a particularly touching talk from last fall's General Conference...<br />Reaffirmed to me the <em>total</em> and <em>absolute</em> truth of it.<br />Like many other moms, I sometimes struggle with feeling like I just try SOOO hard...<br />And for <em>what</em>?<br />The job often feels overwhelming and fruitless.<br />Trying to get everyone to cooperate and do the right thing<br />seems like <em>a lot</em> of hard work<br />and often even ends up feeling counter-productive.</div><div align="center">Sometimes I feel like I. Just. CAN'T. Do. It.</div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">.<br /></span>So <a href="http://lds.org/ldsorg/v/index.jsp?hideNav=1&locale=0&sourceId=4aec56627ab94210VgnVCM100000176f620a____&vgnextoid=2354fccf2b7db010VgnVCM1000004d82620aRCRD#">Elder Bednar's talk </a>pierced me to the core<br />and warmed my very soul with a rekindled commitment for consistency.<br />Despite the sometimes discouraging individual instances. </div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">.<br /></span>I remember sitting in my car in the Costco parking lot.</div><div align="center">Too paralyzed to get out and go inside</div><div align="center">as I listened to his words stream in over the radio.</div><div align="center">I could not move.<br />Feeling so filled that my emotions were spilling over.<br />Streaming silently down my cheeks.<br />I heard... really HEARD... his words.<br />Spoken as if straight to me.<br />It felt as if the teardrops spotting the bosom of my t-shirt<br />were imbedding them indellibly upon my heart.<br /><span style="color:#000000;">.<br /></span>So as a reminder to myself,<br />and to share with anyone reading, who may also benefit,<br />here is the part that I just loved:<br />"As our sons were growing up, our family did what you have done and what you now do.<br />We had regular family prayer, scripture study, and family home evening.<br />Now, I am sure what I am about to describe has never occurred in your home, but it did in ours.<br /><span style="color:#000000;">.<br /></span>Sometimes Sister Bednar and I wondered<br />if our efforts to do these spiritually essential things were worthwhile.<br />Now and then verses of scripture were read amid outbursts<br />such as “He’s touching me!”<br />“Make him stop looking at me!”<br />“Mom, he’s breathing my air!”<br />Sincere prayers occasionally were interrupted with giggling and poking.<br />And with active, rambunctious boys,<br />family home evening lessons did not always produce high levels of edification. </div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;color:#000000;">.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">{Uh... ya think? This sounds <em>oddly</em> familiar...}</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;color:#000000;">.<br /></span>At times Sister Bednar and I were exasperated<br />because the righteous habits we worked so hard to foster<br />did not seem to yield immediately the spiritual results we wanted and expected.<br /><span style="color:#000000;">.<br /></span>Today if you could ask our adult sons what they remember<br />about family prayer, scripture study, and family home evening,<br />I believe I know how they would answer.<br />They likely would not identify a particular prayer<br />or a specific instance of scripture study<br />or an especially meaningful family home evening lesson<br />as the defining moment in their spiritual development.<br />What they would say they remember is that as a family we were consistent.<br /><span style="color:#000000;">.</span><br />Sister Bednar and I thought helping our sons understand the content<br />of a particular lesson or a specific scripture was the ultimate outcome.<br />But such a result does not occur each time we study or pray or learn together.<br />The consistency of our intent and work was perhaps the greatest lesson—<br />a lesson we did not fully appreciate at the time.<br /><span style="color:#000000;">.</span><br />In my office is a beautiful painting of a wheat field.<br />The painting is a vast collection of individual brushstrokes—<br />none of which in isolation is very interesting or impressive.<br />In fact, if you stand close to the canvas, all you can see is a mass<br />of seemingly unrelated and unattractive streaks of yellow and gold and brown paint.<br />However, as you gradually move away from the canvas,<br />all of the individual brushstrokes combine together<br />and produce a magnificent landscape of a wheat field.<br />Many ordinary, individual brushstrokes work together<br />to create a captivating and beautiful painting.<br /><span style="color:#000000;">.</div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469517085798142882" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH03scQSu70J6rTLeuYrEkA3d9USDuYfeD75U00nXvTN1CYGdVT_gM7_nb0yI5g7bRdWs0ujdBzuugUubSSDr3Dg31CC4jUIU7gtN5CX49tr8zNwiwcVLzCi7hmd1rNKWstQYE1pJ6VS3B/s400/wheat-field.jpg" /></span> <div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">.<br /></span>Each family prayer, each episode of family scripture study,<br />and each family home evening is a brushstroke on the canvas of our souls.<br />No one event may appear to be very impressive or memorable.<br />But just as the yellow and gold and brown strokes of paint complement each other<br />and produce an impressive masterpiece,<br />so our consistency in doing seemingly small things<br />can lead to significant spiritual results.<br />“Wherefore, be not weary in well-doing,<br />for ye are laying the foundation of a great work.<br />And out of small things proceedeth that which is great”<br /><span style="color:#000000;">.</span><br />Consistency is a key principle as we lay the foundation of a great work in our individual lives and as we become more diligent and concerned in our own homes."<br /><span style="color:#000000;">.</span><br />That message and that image of the wheat field has stayed with me.<br />So, here, in this simple stack of plastic cups drying in my kitchen windowsill,<br />I realized...<br />Again.<br />I am painting.<br />Still painting.<br />Ever painting.<br />One. Stroke. At. A. Time.<br />Painting the portrait of my own ever-growing, testimony<br />and imprinting it upon the hearts of my children. </div><div align="center">Helping them to paint their own.</div><div align="center">As artists of their own souls.<br />One prayer.<br />One scripture study.<br />One Family Home Evening.<br />One heart-to-heart chat.<br />One teaching moment.<br />One plastic cup tower. At. A. Time... </div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">.</span></div><div align="center">And THAT...</div><div align="center">Well, THAT, I CAN do.</div><div align="center">For today.</div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10019665549525024932noreply@blogger.com98tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979718468965341657.post-14277412771318771522010-05-07T22:45:00.001-06:002010-05-11T08:54:15.343-06:00Alright, already...<div align="center">Okay... This is it.</div><div align="center">Tonight I feel really yucky.</div><div align="center">Tired.</div><div align="center">Grumpy.</div><div align="center">Out of gas.</div><div align="center">And sorta... </div><div align="center">Blah.</div><div align="center">No... </div><div align="center">Strike that...</div><div align="center">REALLY blah.</div><div align="center">Blah... blah... BLAH!</div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">.</span></div><div align="center">I HATE this feeling!</div><div align="center">Absolutely HATE it!</div><div align="center">And even worse, I know why.</div><div align="center">I know EXACTLY why...</div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">.</span></div><div align="center">You see, I usually eat really well.</div><div align="center">By most people's standard, I eat <em>VERY</em> well.</div><div align="center">I love fruits and veggies.</div><div align="center">I eat them at nearly every meal.</div><div align="center">I get a good balanced amount of protein and healthy, whole grain carbohydrates.<br />And I try to eat every 2-3 hours throughout the day.</div><div align="center">(Yes... That's 5-6 times per day.)</div><div align="center">I LOVE good food...</div><div align="center">And I eat a<em> lot</em>!</div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">.</span></div><div align="center">I also drink like a fish.</div><div align="center">I start drinking water first thing in the morning at 5:15.</div><div align="center">All day long, I drink and drink.</div><div align="center">And I'm not talking soda... I despise it.</div><div align="center">Water only.</div><div align="center">By bedtime, I've usually consumed over 100 ounces.</div><div align="center">Sometimes more.</div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">.</span></div><div align="center">And I usually have <em>plenty</em> of energy.</div><div align="center">Moreso than I sometimes know what to do with!</div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">You know me! </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">Me and all my big ideas...</span></div><div align="center">{If only I could buy more <em><strong>time</strong></em> at the health food store!}</div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">.</span></div><div align="center">But this past week, I have been very <em>"off."</em></div><div align="center">No particular reason... </div><div align="center">I've just been a bit lazy, I guess.</div><div align="center">Slipping up in my usually good habits.</div><div align="center">If we <em>are</em> what we <em>eat</em>, then right now, <em>I </em>am the city dump!</div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">.</span></div><div align="center">With Matt gone, I immersed myself in a project and barely slept.</div><div align="center">We had visitors staying with us </div><div align="center">and I was not diligent with my planned meals and regular mealtimes.</div><div align="center">I've hardly drunk any water.</div><div align="center">I am thirsty.</div><div align="center">My head aches.</div><div align="center">Even my lips and skin feel dry.</div><div align="center">I know I am dehydrated.</div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;"><em>.</em></span></div><div align="center">So this is MY fault!</div><div align="center">I know better!</div><div align="center">I know what my body needs.</div><div align="center">I'm just not giving it!</div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">.</span></div><div align="center">SO...</div><div align="center">As of <em>this</em> moment, I am recommitting to take better care of myself.</div><div align="center">Because I can.</div><div align="center">Because I should.</div><div align="center">Because I am worth it.</div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">.</span></div><div align="center">...And <em>they</em> are worth it!</div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">{Because I know that even when they don't complain, </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">my boys <em>like</em> me even <em>more</em> when I am feeling good.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">And fun.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">And like myself.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">Instead of like this... yucky... blob.}</span> </div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">.</span></div><div align="center">So no more being lazy and eating crappy for me!</div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">For crying out loud...</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:180%;">I AM NOT A GARBAGE DISPOSAL!</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">.</span><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5469869256892392546" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA7wzBZm_QJmQFujqFOGYT16JTvdcz1vmKcUiKMKkT4uy50ZO0VZ7wwDfiCiBMV4CdIE7Bal34_QMJmZVe7gtVEOYvgHHSAPvG87hnbWp1jWAP6fsbIxlHv6zkB9HKGEe5YDQLmY4ZnOl3/s400/garbage+disposal.jpg" /></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:0;color:#000000;">.</span></div><div align="center">I do NOT need to finish my children's meals for them!</div><div align="center">I can not. </div><div align="center">I will not.</div><div align="center">It is an <em>awful</em> habit!</div><div align="center">...One of my worst.</div><div align="center">Just because they decide they are "done" eating while there is still food on their plates</div><div align="center">(food I worked hard to prepare for them, mind you ),</div><div align="center">does NOT mean I have to <em>consume</em> it to prevent it from going to <em>waste</em>!</div><div align="center">I do not have to dispose of it!</div><div align="center">At least not into my own mouth! <div align="center">That's why we have a garbage can. </div><div align="center">And a disposal in our sink!</div></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">.</span></div><div align="center">I hereby remind myself that I am a big girl.</div><div align="center">I have outgrown "kiddie food".</div><div align="center">I can not <em>thrive</em> off of the leftover Peanut Butter & Jelly sandwich crusts.</div><div align="center">Or the last few bites of their Pigs in a Blanket.</div><div align="center">I DO deserve to take the time to prepare my OWN <em>real</em> food...</div><div align="center">Even if THEY want Mac & Cheese, Little Caesar's or McDonald's </div><div align="center">(on the rare occasion that I actually cave in and indulge them).</div><div align="center">They are boys. </div><div align="center">Little boys.</div><div align="center">Growing boys!</div><div align="center">With the metabolism of a raging bonfire!</div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">.</span></div><div align="center">I, on the other hand, </div><div align="center">am aging...</div><div align="center">I can not eat <em>any</em>thing and <em>every</em>thing, like I once could, and still <em>feel</em> <em>fine</em>.</div><div align="center">And I do not have the self-discipline to deprive myself.</div><div align="center">Or the cardio-endurance of a Madman, like my sweet-tooth husband.</div><div align="center">{I love you, Sweets...}</div><div align="center">So instead, I must choose well.</div><div align="center">I must choose <em>better</em>.</div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">.</span></div><div align="center">It's sort of like the oxygen mask thing...</div><div align="center">As counter-intuitive as it seems, it is how we ensure that we all survive.</div><div align="center">And how we all <em>thrive</em>...</div><div align="center">In order to take care of others <em>well</em>, we must first take care of ourselves, <em>as </em>well.</div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">.</span></div><div align="center">So for now, that means cracking the proverbial whip a bit, on my eating habits...</div><div align="center">I start in the morning!</div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">{I can hardly wait!}</span></div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10019665549525024932noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979718468965341657.post-37180236356028518652010-05-02T19:13:00.005-06:002010-05-02T19:38:56.995-06:00In-laws, er.. uh...OUT-laws...<div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">.</span></div><div align="center">Yep... Apparently it started young...</div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">Someone <em>really</em> should have warned me what kind of family I was marrying into!</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">.</span></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioqylSO31eTsXMWerneFR3faXUyi3f9vjuWt11Q-uKUWhyphenhyphenwKOFkXfOUfcM8iRnetzYN_K7cKEmVuGEDJ-RMPq1hZYfk6AFtOAoIlNSCzZaiZ6z2Q_qtrE_U8A5pbIpl9d_NyFub2BXspTW/s1600/Lowry+Cousin+Outlaws-SPB.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 279px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466845716528017410" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioqylSO31eTsXMWerneFR3faXUyi3f9vjuWt11Q-uKUWhyphenhyphenwKOFkXfOUfcM8iRnetzYN_K7cKEmVuGEDJ-RMPq1hZYfk6AFtOAoIlNSCzZaiZ6z2Q_qtrE_U8A5pbIpl9d_NyFub2BXspTW/s400/Lowry+Cousin+Outlaws-SPB.jpg" /></a><span style="color:#000000;"> .</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">Hee hee! Just kidding!</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">(If anyone lucked out in the in-law department, it was certainly me!)</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">.</span></div><div align="center">This is so cute, I just had to post it... </div><div align="center">if not for <em>your</em> viewing enjoyment, then for <em>their</em> utter humiliation!</div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">(It's an oldie, but a goodie that I just came across in Trevor's facebook pics.)</span></div><div align="center">HA! </div><div align="center">Don't think I've ever seen it, so it's giving me a good chuckle this evening...</div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">.</span></div><div align="center">These are the Lowry cousins, somewhere around the mid-80's, I'd guess.<br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Back row (Left to Right): Mike Staker (Matt's older and oh-so-much-wiser brother), </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">Megan Staker McMurdie (Matt's little sister) & Matt "Capone" Staker</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">Front Row: Ty Simcox (Matt's cousin), Trevor Simcox (also cousin), </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">Mindy Staker Johanson (Matt's littlest sister), & Rachelle Simcox Taysom (Matt's cousin)</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;color:#000000;">.</span></div><div align="center">Love you guys! </div><div align="center">Glad you all gave up your "life of crime", </div><div align="center">turned over a new leaf</div><div align="center">and became productive, law-abiding citizens!</div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">Wait... You did...Right?</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">Officer Simcox?</span></div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10019665549525024932noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979718468965341657.post-36855736324397102462010-04-03T23:21:00.006-06:002010-04-09T13:44:41.187-06:00Footprints of Faith...<div align="center">For those of you who have asked for information, </div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">"Footprints of Faith"</span></div><div align="center">will air at 1:30 pm MST,</div><div align="center">just prior to the second session of LDS General Conference.</div><div align="center">There will be 3 stories featured in the program.</div><div align="center">We were told that Bronson's story will be the middle segment.</div><div align="center">.</div><div align="center">Post Script- </div><div align="center">In reply to some of the questions and comments left in response to this post,</div><div align="center">I am not aware of a link to view the "Footprints of Faith" program online.</div><div align="center">However, KSL has announced that it will re-air on Sunday, May 2.</div><div align="center">I am not sure what time.</div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10019665549525024932noreply@blogger.com37tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979718468965341657.post-8906047112784931932010-04-02T05:14:00.002-06:002010-04-04T12:41:47.076-06:0040 Years... and still counting!<div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;color:#999900;">Happy Anniversary to two of the dearest people in my world!</span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">.<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456214863147292674" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXwkUvOrQ6LurDoyavuOvD2cxjboSpjJWI34iIe7XFmMnbnMeOBFM5ep5jSxAJ1Wq215Xdsz0NwpVWYpICPY_RdvoVfhcrLBpAm7-d2I9ZM3_V-9rdVTNQXYu6-J-HTV9SPS3DNhM5F0Eu/s400/Staker2807-001.jpg" /></span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">Congratulations, Mom & Dad!</span></div><div align="center">I am so proud of you! </div><div align="center">In this day and age, it's an accomplishment only a few can claim. </div><div align="center">And getting fewer and farther between all the time.</div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">.</span></div><div align="center">Thank you for loving each other.</div><div align="center">Through the good and the bad...</div><div align="center">The challenges as well as the joys. </div><div align="center">And often across so many miles.</div><div align="center">It could not always have been easy.</div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">.</span></div><div align="center">I could not have asked for better, more adoring parents...</div><div align="center">Who waited and wanted for so very long before I finally came your way.</div><div align="center">Thank you for being ready.</div><div align="center">To love me unconditionally.</div><div align="center">And to teach me.</div><div align="center">By both your words and your example.</div><div align="center">What a blessing you are to me!</div><div align="center">I am so grateful I was sent to you.</div><div align="center">Thanks for loving each other. For loving me. And for making us a family.</div><div align="center">I am <em>forever</em> your devoted daughter!</div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10019665549525024932noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979718468965341657.post-63838503917947622202010-03-26T13:36:00.000-06:002010-03-26T23:46:36.452-06:00B Strong... Be Fit... Be One... Be there!<div align="center"> I am posting this <em>again</em> as a friendly reminder...</div><p align="center">Our wonderful, a-<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">MAZ</span>-<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">ing</span> and completely over-achieving sister, Mindy,<br />has put this great event together in our behalf.<br /><em>{Sigh}</em><br /><span style="font-size:130%;">The blessings just seem to have no end.<br /></span>We are absolutely thankful.<br /><span style="font-size:85%;">(Thanks, Mind!)<br /></span><span style="color:#000000;">.</span><br />We are <em>also</em> grateful<br />that this will provide us with a much-needed opportunity<br />to thank so many of you for your love and support,<br />and allow us to throw you a bit of a Thank-You Party!<br /><span style="color:#000000;">. </p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 309px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5453183973845848146" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCsEPrnzAwYbKQvH74RCJNd2Vn-YMfUHFunLAE-BhCw3k3TOmg1wInFnwkzibWG5lxjS9aWc4e6Tz-tE5TH6r_l9wP_UzekUcLhuigG1wEQRP-Uz0OLuYlB2uEJE8vJWsNW5r1QiQgb7vh/s400/bronson+5k+full+page+children+in+need-2.jpg" /></span> <div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">.<br /></span>So whether you run, or <em>not</em>... please<br /><span style="font-size:130%;color:#ff9900;">Come celebrate the gift of life with us<br />in honor of Bronson's second chance!</span></div><p align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="color:#000000;"><span class="Apple-style-span">.</span><br /></span></span><span style="color:#999900;">There will be a 5K and a Children's 1 Mile Fun Run.<br />Starting at 9 am<br />Food, Games, Prizes, Raffles, Bounce Houses!</span></p><p align="center"><span style="color:#999900;"><span style="color:#000000;"><span class="Apple-style-span">.</span> </span><br /></span>Register online @:<br /><a href="https://www.active.com/event_detail.cfm?event_id=1839825">https://www.active.com/event_detail.cfm?event_id=1839825</a><br /><span style="font-size:0;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'lucida grande';font-size:13;"><span style="DISPLAY: inline" class="text_exposed_show"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:16;color:#000000;">.</span></span></span></span></span></span></p><p align="center"><span style="color:#000000;"><span style="COLOR: rgb(51,51,51);font-family:'lucida grande';font-size:13;" class="Apple-style-span" ><span style="DISPLAY: inline" class="text_exposed_show"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:'times new roman';color:#000000;"><span style="COLOR: rgb(255,153,0);font-family:Georgia, serif;font-size:16;" class="Apple-style-span" >We look forward to seeing you there!</span></span></span></span></span></span></p>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10019665549525024932noreply@blogger.com33tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979718468965341657.post-42746255645271083082010-03-12T14:59:00.002-07:002010-03-12T15:01:22.656-07:00Interview on NBC's Today show...<div align="center">For those who asked for the link to Bronson's story,</div><div align="center">Click <a href="http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/21134540/vp/35833923#35833923">here</a>...</div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10019665549525024932noreply@blogger.com197tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979718468965341657.post-36192969219648593862010-03-11T06:52:00.002-07:002010-03-11T10:49:16.968-07:00Today is tomorrow...<div align="center">Crazy...</div><div align="center">Several weeks ago, just after we returned from the hospital,</div><div align="center">we were contacted by NBC's morning show, Today.</div><div align="center">They had been following Bronson's story and asked if they could interview us live on their show.</div><div align="center">Of course, we declined.</div><div align="center">We needed to be home with our boys, who had been well cared for by Alli </div><div align="center">and spoiled by family and friends in our absence, </div><div align="center">but <em>WE</em> worried about them, after all they had been through.</div><div align="center">And knew we needed to reconnect and spend time as a family.</div><div align="center">So NBC clarified that the offer was for <em>all</em> of us... the whole gang. Even Alli.</div><div align="center">We were shocked...</div><div align="center">They explained all the reasons that Bronson's strory appealed to them.</div><div align="center">It was well-documented through my blog.</div><div align="center">It had been well-photographed and we had taken video as it unfolded.</div><div align="center">And most of all, it was miraculous.</div><div align="center">And GOOD news to tell.</div><div align="center">We were slightly more intrigued...</div><div align="center">But they wanted us right away.</div><div align="center">We said sorry, but we needed some down time.</div><div align="center">They offered to wait until after the Olympics.</div><div align="center">We considered...</div><div align="center">But with everything going on, I wasn't sure that it wasn't just another distration from our focus.</div><div align="center">Our family.</div><div align="center">We declined again.</div><div align="center">SO they sent us a piece they aired several years ago.</div><div align="center">Another miracle.</div><div align="center">About a boy from Texas who had been killed in and ATV accident.</div><div align="center">His death announced in the local paper.</div><div align="center">The family had bid their final farewells </div><div align="center">and prepared to honor his wishes as an organ donor.</div><div align="center">Helicopters were waiting on the roof.</div><div align="center">Recipients standing by.</div><div align="center">And yet his Grandma prayed on for a miracle.</div><div align="center">Long story short, they interviewed him on NBC a few months later.</div><div align="center"><em>Amazing</em>.</div><div align="center">We were touched as we watched his parents. </div><div align="center">Incredible and faithful people, telling the story of their miracle.</div><div align="center">We were reminded of a scripture that has become particularly meaningful to us lately.</div><div align="center"><a href="http://www.lds.org/ldsorg/v/index.jsp?vgnextoid=84010fd41d93b010VgnVCM1000004d82620aRCRD&locale=0&hideNav=1&pageNumber=1&maxResults=20&NARROW_BY=&query=Mosiah+8%3A18&bucket=Scriptures&dateFrom=&dateTo=&AUTHOR_CATEGORY=&AUTHOR_NAME=&FORMAT=&submitSearch=Search&dateFromDisplay=&dateToDisplay=&findByAuthor=">Mosiah 8:18-</a></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">We know that Bronson's miracle was not just given to <em>him</em>. </div><div align="center">Not even just to <em>us</em>.</div><div align="center">We believe it was given for the benefit of mankind.</div><div align="center">To show forth the all-powerful hand of God.</div><div align="center">To remind us that our loving Father in Heaven has a plan for us and for our families.</div><div align="center">That He hears and answers our prayers.</div><div align="center">That He intervenes with the course of nature, when necessary, to accomplish His will.</div><div align="center">That we were blessed enough to witness one of these occurances.</div><div align="center">First hand.</div><div align="center">We could not be more grateful.</div><div align="center">We are humbled to the core and still in shock of His grace and His mercy.</div><div align="center">That this happened for <em>us</em>, and not for so many others with similar stories.</div><div align="center">So many who prayed just as faithfully...</div><div align="center">So many who were also hopeful for their own miracle.</div><div align="center">Maybe even more worthy.</div><div align="center">So many who accepted the will of God, </div><div align="center">even when it was not what they would have chosen.</div><div align="center">And yet, somehow, for some reason,</div><div align="center">we recieved more than we could have possibly dreamed.</div><div align="center">We recieved Bronson.</div><div align="center">Here. <em>Now</em>. Complete. <em>Whole</em>. Himself. Seemingly unaffected. </div><div align="center">And with that comes a responsibility.</div><div align="center">One that feels too big, and yet we eagerly embrace.</div><div align="center">Knowing we have room to grow.</div><div align="center">We promise to do our best to give back.</div><div align="center">To raise awareness.</div><div align="center">To help others to learn vicariously through my mistake.</div><div align="center">Help them to reevaluate and to prioritize.</div><div align="center">And most importantly, we commit to bear testimony and stand as witnesses of God.</div><div align="center">At all times, and in all things and in all places.</div><div align="center">Even moreso than ever before.</div><div align="center">Even if that means being on camera in front of a national audience.</div><div align="center">Matt is excited for the missionary opportunity.</div><div align="center">I just hope I don't trip...</div><div align="center">Or ramble. Oh, how I hope I don't ramble...</div><div align="center">And please pray that little B behaves himself! </div><div align="center">He is such a wild man!</div><div align="center">I just have one word about this...</div><div align="center">Live.</div><div align="center">Natonal TV will get him in whatever mood he is in!</div><div align="center">Let's hope he sleeps well tonight!</div><div align="center">Here are a few shots from the in home interview they shot a few days ago.</div><div align="center">A few minutes of it will air on NBC's morning show, Today, tomorrow morning, March 12.</div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">.</span><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447420999838977634" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4fnMEbevf5LwXXly9BL7kSjrmE0NhW6bPFAwzgLVlLNaip7U68I1b4jubF5yUYFiDJ1NEE1lVdJcrQ_yKsQTEwAVn2JykyLya9BrppR7FERbJzLgaAac5QRT3-2ffWg1RUX2zrOXwizPO/s400/IMG_3319.jpg" /></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">.</span><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447420894004748242" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjV-EdrOgOcWMjzdi1YIir5zXemZ72jYhazZxI6Aov-Rd8j9cRSxedqhTLDDEq40gn172S4ON4lzkftSvtUwJZem_W2JQQmJiSBPtP6GPSQMzPXpUZK2FDke-R3ksanHatlqZDN1G3bKlF/s400/IMG_3316.jpg" /></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">.</span><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447421552743893634" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguc1hoQTsx2Bys-ArI8V9UzVQFaIRz3pnJJ-IChQI3AQ5R6K_nh_2J9Kk3FShO8kJevQH3kySpG957CyLG9qYm8bU6kH2nn19_HGM7r-b-f4WRBn38RboAE2ZmV2_FQNxPrciU_YTH7qSj/s400/IMG_3323.jpg" /></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">.</span><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447421112889647458" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNX55Oz21O3PIWDQAsMtsUhsjA5VMMlT2AGyGcwpkW_zy8dn5H-FSjKZsSHvBpEOM4Wv6WrK1I9EWYmgDhZNTDXaYALzC0nA0Wy1CvOWjtDZJW3saTC0D7cnjwVqXJoNNAJX2PzU0XxBPX/s400/IMG_3321.jpg" /></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">.</span></div><div align="center"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447421739538338146" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrzV6ZYAyNlhyphenhyphen-WBTDgoQTMIeqJsC_43Z5bnuB9jUBjOh0A-ebisp2B5nXrTSguHgup7LyeOpPRpXuMKKREtQpbmmLCdMakadoY4fcszkv07nxR_429cv2KUQGtMdqEzGwNwrlejIA3pD4/s400/IMG_3334.jpg" /><span style="color:#000000;">.</span></div><div align="center"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447421746493207746" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTSb9TYT_xc2CyUbOB-0cr3EssvlFSpjAgCzPTFc8bFKmkeTsnDypInZvZlhogdXNhXSNNN0m_gIrHyP3YUJ68fwTSL5LxZdAy0QiQ1LRV0Uk5gNYiPrdX778hsvxp_yuh4cc23EZglz0p/s400/IMG_3338.jpg" /><span style="color:#000000;">.</span></div><div align="center"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447422165167454338" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir6KGhVs-hZrZdXCbo18pBIYFHAPK5D69D8RMUtjYP9yQHQQGsq4koNufTJccykB6jePw6choQQ-nlHBgGLFlSDnu9pXlUXxAQBRUSQjA3ZoZ89TtrRun0Gsr2jwaIRNGsFfDHCb3CoaXw/s400/IMG_3342.jpg" /><span style="color:#000000;">.</span><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447422170110586130" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1ITTc2vnk2kF8B9EpvvsOshJefuL8lp2aSOW8qPjjFsXE4T7920xFK5H5iUAWURyuqeh1kgtZ4nkE0IV7nQVms6ZQAlGmQq9iES1Dv_jNLqJvM9nYHIFXagaQPGE1dzsFGML2NVzg0H3w/s400/IMG_3344.jpg" /></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">.</span></div><div align="center">Aye aye <em>aye</em>...</div><div align="center">How on earth did we get <em>here</em>?</div><div align="center">New York City... NBC... Here we are...</div><div align="center">Be gentle with us.</div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10019665549525024932noreply@blogger.com150tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979718468965341657.post-20702146225477725662010-03-10T06:45:00.001-07:002010-03-11T08:52:10.332-07:00NYC or bust...<div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">Off we go!</span><br /><span style="color:#000000;">. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447404400559769218" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4L09uuh-XNEiuELjEynpgLEvbWEwr_23OQkmcCdg2RsdoczC2TXIFSDnhz_w-N3ABBqDk_AviWGGbVLFdVKLmM6XUHDJrRR8o0EUSDmSsMUxC0xeWvVBtpFBnpGHnPR7nDP-MHNFF9uCy/s400/IMG_3357.jpg" />.<br /></span>Alli and the boys, curbside,with our stash of bags, etc.<br />Not bad... for a traveling <span style="font-size:130%;">party of 7</span>!</div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10019665549525024932noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979718468965341657.post-68914474987198629562010-03-03T22:57:00.001-07:002010-03-03T23:48:06.429-07:00A few of my favorite things...<div align="center">Just came across this little <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">diddy</span>, </div><div align="center">which <em>{insert huge sigh of relief}</em> still makes me smile...</div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">..</span></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggzteRSvCLOLQz3Vdj_0l3nxoXMuR-dJXYGGLfeG-r217H51-7SmNOdfPQ9mRHGOv9ycVYLvN34j15RH93c5k_DkLa4fFh-bRmWcfWzNPT78tWXU9q6UPKO1xYvQ2zz0FDASvYZn9IaJgl/s1600-h/JR2X3433HSSPCBT.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444638094739693282" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggzteRSvCLOLQz3Vdj_0l3nxoXMuR-dJXYGGLfeG-r217H51-7SmNOdfPQ9mRHGOv9ycVYLvN34j15RH93c5k_DkLa4fFh-bRmWcfWzNPT78tWXU9q6UPKO1xYvQ2zz0FDASvYZn9IaJgl/s400/JR2X3433HSSPCBT.jpg" /></a><span style="color:#000000;"> .</span><br /><div align="center">Quite possibly my <em>favorite</em> picture that I've <em>ever</em> taken!</div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">.</span></div><div align="center">Sometimes,</div><div align="center">when I <em>least</em> expect it...</div><div align="center">amid all the underwear wrestling...</div><div align="center">the bumps and dents in our walls...</div><div align="center">the disturbingly unexplainable "mystery" bruises...</div><div align="center">the constant coat of caked mud on their shoes...</div><div align="center">the stained sleeves they borrow and use as napkins...</div><div align="center">the wall murals painted in sharpie and/or white-out correction tape (Umm... yeah)...</div><div align="center">the glitter glue I'll never get out from between the floor boards in the Craft Room...</div><div align="center">the incessant arsenal of whirling plastic weaponry...</div><div align="center">the indian burns and purple nurples...</div><div align="center">the super-hero dress ups...</div><div align="center">the little growling dinosaurs...</div><div align="center">the blanket forts and bubble baths...</div><div align="center">the entire cast of miniature 'CARS' cars which magically drive themselves all around our house...</div><div align="center">the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">Legos</span>... <em>{insert exasperated sigh}...</em> oh, <em>all</em> those <em>darn <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">LEGOS</span></em>...</div><div align="center">the skateboards and scooters and bikes and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">rollerblades</span> and <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">ripsticks</span>...</div><div align="center">the crayons, paintbrushes, colored pencils and markers...</div><div align="center">the dog-eared UNO cards...</div><div align="center">and otterpops...</div><div align="center">Amid Diego and Sponge Bob...</div><div align="center">Zack & Cody, Drake & Josh...</div><div align="center">Mario Kart and Lego Star Wars on the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">Wii</span>...</div><div align="center">Piano lessons and Pine Wood <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-error">Derbys</span>...</div><div align="center">the grubby smears and fingerprints...</div><div align="center">Basketball Courts...</div><div align="center"><div align="center">Soccer Fields...</div>Football Turf...</div><div align="center">Batting Cages and Baseball Diamonds...</div><div align="center">Bouldering Gear and rock climbing harnesses...</div><div align="center">various scattered ski <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">paraphernalia</span>...</div><div align="center">the beloved Webkinz and super-powered Sock Monkeys...</div><div align="center">the mountainous piles of homework...</div><div align="center">the pirate eye-patches and the nerf dart guns...</div><div align="center">the CTR rings and zip-up neckties...</div><div align="center">the holes in... well... what <em>DOESN'T</em> have them these days?</div><div align="center">Yes, amid merciless pillow fights until someone cries... (and that would usually be Trevan)...</div><div align="center">the never-ending grass-stained jeans...</div><div align="center">Amid "I Love you Stinky Face" and "Where the Wild Things Are"...</div><div align="center">the bubblegum tape and the pixie sticks...</div><div align="center">and pants that are too short... too quickly...</div><div align="center">Somewhere...</div><div align="center">Sometimes...</div><div align="center">Every once in a while...</div><div align="center">I get a glimpse of the amazing, incredible men these boys are growing to be.</div><div align="center">And I find myself in the presence of greatness.</div></div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10019665549525024932noreply@blogger.com53tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979718468965341657.post-80924315916157751612010-03-02T09:16:00.000-07:002010-03-02T11:47:03.062-07:00Hoot-whoo...<div align="center">I absolutely <em>adore</em> this little sketch I found on our Mud Room Counter...</div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">.<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444108760097873682" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-sP-G63F7uA9xoiLcfDhJesZNM8ywf9j2weZegxlcoDfQdIopJoRyKMByZHAGbZhkNw5QqfkCjKy8s35uWqNN249Ti0OJVRXs2rf1FHDTFHGhmuTxDStwNVZlxWeVWHrGTWGH-K0yFfei/s400/Trevan's+Owl.jpg" /></span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">.</span></div><div align="center">"Wow! Who drew this?", I asked my boys.</div><div align="center">Trevan timidly but teasingly replied, "Don't you mean 'Hoot-whoo' drew it, Mom?"</div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;"><em>{Hee hee!}</em></span> </div><div align="center">Handsome, artistic <em>and <strong>clever</strong></em> ...</div><div align="center">I <em>like</em> that in a guy!</div><div align="center">(Watch out First Grade ladies! This guy is a triple threat!)</div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10019665549525024932noreply@blogger.com37tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979718468965341657.post-57673493734905752342010-03-01T22:25:00.004-07:002010-03-03T12:54:13.474-07:00<div align="center">Oh, my dear friends~</div><div align="center">I just got this e-mail and it caught my breath...</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">"Dear Sara...</div><div align="center">Please help me by getting the word out about my sweet niece. </div><div align="center">She was found not breathing and without a heartbeat this afternoon</div><div align="center">and is fighting for her life at Primary Children's right now. </div><div align="center">The outlook is grim but I know how your story ended </div><div align="center">and I am looking for that same miracle...</div><div align="center">so please add us to your prayer list for tonight!<br /><br />Thank you...<br />Amy" </div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">.</span></div><div align="center">------------<br /><span style="color:#000000;">.</span></div><div align="center">I do not know Auntie Amy.</div><div align="center">I do not know little Sage.</div><div align="center">But I <em>DO</em> know something of the heartache her poor parents must be facing.</div><div align="center">The anguish of not knowing.</div><div align="center">The fear of possibilities you can not yet allow yourself to consider.</div><div align="center">The helplessness. Heaviness. Dread.</div><div align="center">The audacity of daring to hope and to pray for a miracle...</div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">.<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5444435985241575330" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjkUyXIkyawczmEo6TWHTArYCRgXkHssT1vakLyQNkFdjmAcvAvuUFkAEVtKYn05BIvE15FVMaMPyS1ych57Zg64oq-xfFTyf1VsPtdTMILjKw_oYSnyjU0BNtqWQWOUi23aTVbKmnaCLZ/s400/Sage-+Sepia+with+Perspective+Correction+(0128).jpg" /></span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">.</span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">Please, oh please pray for sweet little Sage.</span></div><div align="center">And pray for her family to be strengthened and sustained.</div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">The details are still a bit unclear, </span></div><div align="center"><span style="font-size:85%;">but you can read about it <a href="http://bartonfamilyco.blogspot.com/2010/03/just-this-once.html">here</a>, on her Auntie Amy's blog.</span></div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10019665549525024932noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979718468965341657.post-17533625787279534752010-02-28T23:37:00.001-07:002010-03-01T01:17:03.335-07:00Leftovers...<div align="center">I realized something when I opened my fridge this afternoon.</div><div align="center">This is going to sound strange, so just hang tight and go with me for a sec...</div><div align="center">First off, let's make something clear...</div><div align="center">I am not much of a cook.</div><div align="center">Although substantially improved by earnest effort in recent years,</div><div align="center">I am still definitely <em>not</em> much to write home about.</div><div align="center">When I do bother, I typically make things that require little or no technical effort.</div><div align="center">We eat a lot of fresh stuff that requires no actual cooking.</div><div align="center">Salads, veggie trays, fruit plates, etc.</div><div align="center">And I usually, purposely, make huge amounts so that we can share</div><div align="center">or even just eat it for several days in a row ourselves.</div><div align="center">(Lazy... I know.)</div><div align="center">So today's revelation came as a bit of a surprise.</div><div align="center">As I rummaged the shelves for something to throw together, it hit me...</div><div align="center">Profoundly.</div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">.<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 291px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443571026355089074" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivIV8QgwPiTX32btZxj0EKK9obaV8eQkF8Ap9GCvFciPz4enPa8RKUUkoO3_pdrQJMI4q0rCdt7MmcFMhlyr3vNEIHB4MJ8FxQOGHOkgEHuC0wyhIoaPL4mp8tsOStSrVWqK6VgY1ZLXCn/s400/JR2X3468WP.jpg" /></span></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">.</span></div><div align="center">As it turns out,</div><div align="center">I do not like Leftovers.</div><div align="center">In fact, I think I might even hate them.</div><div align="center">Aside from being a pain to store,</div><div align="center">nothing ever tastes <em>quite</em> as good as when it is freshly prepared.</div><div align="center">It's always a little too soggy.</div><div align="center">A little wilted or a tad brown around the edges.</div><div align="center">A bit crusty on top.</div><div align="center">Or just a little thicker than it should be.</div><div align="center">You know how they are.</div><div align="center">Leftovers...</div><div align="center">Not quite the same, but good enough, we say.</div><div align="center">And so much easier!</div><div align="center">Convenient.</div><div align="center">I serve them to my family all the time!</div><div align="center">In fact, sadly, maybe more often than not.</div><div align="center">And I don't mean just for dinner, either!</div><div align="center">Which brings me to my point...</div><div align="center">How often in <em>life</em> am I giving those that matter <em>most</em>, my <em>Leftovers</em>?</div><div align="center">These boys, who are my heart and soul,</div><div align="center">often get whatever is '"Left-over" of me</div><div align="center">whenever I think I am done with the rest of my commitments.</div><div align="center">They get the little blob of energy that's left of me, after running around all day.</div><div align="center">A cold slab of minimal effort, because I just want to be <em>done</em> already.</div><div align="center">The crumbs that are left of my patience.</div><div align="center">(Well, any that haven't already crumbled from dealing with other people's children.)</div><div align="center">And if they are really lucky, </div><div align="center">I might even top it off with the tiny little <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">dollup</span> of fun that I <em>might</em> actually have left.</div><div align="center">But more often than they deserve,</div><div align="center">they get the frantic, task-oriented Drill-Sargent Mom who is running short on time.</div><div align="center">Or the exhausted, Do-It-Yourself Mom who is ready to collapse.</div><div align="center">Even, occasionally, the grumpy, short-tempered, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">ornery</span> Mom who is at my wits' end.</div><div align="center">They get a signature on their homework slip for reading a story to me</div><div align="center">while I made a mental grocery shopping list.</div><div align="center">They get a "Woo-<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">hoo</span>" from me in the kitchen, amid the dinner preparations</div><div align="center">when they play perfectly through their piano piece, all the way over in the Music Room. </div><div align="center">They get a smile and an "<span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error">Mmm</span>, <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error">hmmm</span>" when they show me their latest cool <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-error">Wii</span> maneuver,</div><div align="center">Or tell me about the awesome play they ran in the football game at recess that day.</div><div align="center">Neither of which, if quizzed, I could describe 30 seconds later.</div><div align="center">They get a half-hearted high-five when they tell me their chores are done.</div><div align="center">A two minute back tickle at bedtime, so I can rush to a set of photos that need editing. </div><div align="center">Or a quick kiss goodnight as I run out the door for a Ladies' Night Out.</div><div align="center">How often am I <em>half</em>-listening?</div><div align="center">Looking <em>past</em> them?</div><div align="center">Talking <em>at</em> them?</div><div align="center">Or even in the same room, but far, <em>far</em> away in my thoughts?</div><div align="center">All Leftovers...</div><div align="center">I am serving them <em>Leftovers</em>.</div><div align="center">Spending the majority of myself elsewhere</div><div align="center">and then giving the little bit that's left, to them, as if it is enough.</div><div align="center">I'm there, <em>always</em>, but am I really <em>there</em>?</div><div align="center">I'm going through motherhood's motions, making mental lists.</div><div align="center">Always the lists.</div><div align="center">Planning ahead to the next thing.</div><div align="center">The To <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_6" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Do's</span> that can never be all the way done.</div><div align="center">You know them...</div><div align="center">The cyclical routines that fill our days.</div><div align="center">Well, Matt told me of an incident that was his.</div><div align="center">It occurred when I called him from the hospital that <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_7" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">wondrous</span> day.</div><div align="center">Sobbed into the <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_8" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">receiver</span> that I needed him to come.</div><div align="center">That Bronson was awake.</div><div align="center">He ran to his truck and sped the 45 minute drive, as fast as he could safely get there.</div><div align="center">But when he started his engine, there was a CD playing.</div><div align="center">It was the Mormon Tabernacle Choir singing.</div><div align="center">"Glory to God on High."</div><div align="center"><span id="SPELLING_ERROR_9" class="blsp-spelling-corrected">Fitting</span>...</div><div align="center">He sobbed.</div><div align="center">The next song that came on was a Men's Chorus</div><div align="center">"Rise up, oh men of God,</div><div align="center">Be done with lesser things..."</div><div align="center">He sobbed harder.</div><div align="center">Said it struck him through the core.</div><div align="center">He arrived at the hospital, still shaking.</div><div align="center">As I think of that now, I realize that <em>this</em> is the time.</div><div align="center">The time for <em>me</em>, as well, to be done with lesser things.</div><div align="center">The time to focus on what is most important.</div><div align="center">Most lasting. Most eternal.</div><div align="center">More than ever before.</div><div align="center">Not the good things.</div><div align="center">Or even the better things.</div><div align="center">But the best things.</div><div align="center">The <em>very</em> best things.</div><div align="center">As you approach the center of a <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_10" class="blsp-spelling-error">bullseye</span>, </div><div align="center">the margin for possible error becomes more and more narrow.</div><div align="center">The degree of accuracy necessary becomes more and more pointed.</div><div align="center">We are approaching that <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_11" class="blsp-spelling-error">bullseye</span>, my friends.</div><div align="center">At an ever-increasing rate.</div><div align="center">I, for one, am consciously re-committing to be done with lesser things.</div><div align="center">To stop serving the Leftovers of myself to my family.</div><div align="center">But instead to be fresh, ready and more <em>present</em> in the present.</div><div align="center">Ready for them with a Feast.</div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10019665549525024932noreply@blogger.com94tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8979718468965341657.post-20610044939512277752010-02-27T14:34:00.006-07:002010-02-27T15:25:01.933-07:00Birthday Party Meltdown...<div align="center">We had a little melt-down here at our home this morning...</div><div align="center">The Mommy, who is admittedly still functioning on only half power,</div><div align="center">completely FORGOT to take Trevan to a Birthday Party.</div><div align="center">And not just <em>any</em> Birthday Party.</div><div align="center">A <em>very</em> <em>important</em> Birthday Party.</div><div align="center">A <em>Best-Buddy's</em> Birthday Party...</div><div align="center">It had been <em>over</em> for an hour by the time he remembered</div><div align="center">and asked me how much longer until it <em>started</em>.</div><div align="center">Aye Carumba.</div><div align="center">He melted...</div><div align="center">Poor kid.</div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">.</span></div><div align="center"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443050859535628050" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic3W459a-P9tvygvXY0WE1IzFnCJJY5utkcnHXCOuGSXLeYSoJwaqqdtVEzPImRWaUM2Wc7-TJk9rjRruQzmIXw6PkxLBT2As2tDvZ2LW_pDmDdWTkpx-c4jfW-VvKO5yoaJhQy9YF9w5f/s400/JR2X3412.jpg" /></div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">.</span></div><div align="center">When you are six and you miss your Best Pal's Party...</div><div align="center">the one you spent <em>all week</em> looking forward to...</div><div align="center">the one we talked about <em>just last night</em> as we wrapped his gift...</div><div align="center"><em>Yeah,</em> well when you miss <em>THAT</em> party</div><div align="center">it is heartbreaking.</div><div align="center">I felt awful.</div><div align="center">As he shook with silent sobs,</div><div align="center">I held him on my lap and noticed that his big, huge feet</div><div align="center">now hang down almost to my ankles.</div><div align="center">I took his face in my hands and asked him to forgive me.</div><div align="center">He looked at me with those big green eyes and mumbled,</div><div align="center">"It's okay Mom. I can go next year."</div><div align="center">Ugh. </div><div align="center">I wanted to crawl in a hole.</div><div align="center">I called Hudson's Mom.</div><div align="center">She saved the day.</div><div align="center">"Yeah! We wondered where he was!", she said.</div><div align="center">I apologized for being such a flake.</div><div align="center">"Send him down for a cupcake and they can hang out for the afternoon," she invited.</div><div align="center">Bless her heart.</div><div align="center">I scraped my tender little boy up and glued him back together with this news.</div><div align="center">He was thrilled and had totally recovered by the time he ran out the door, present in hand.</div><div align="center">Thank goodness he is resilient.</div><div align="center">Thank you, Gina!</div><div align="center">And we owe you one, Hudsy!</div><div align="center">We'll make it up to you!</div><div align="center"><span style="color:#000000;">.</span></div><div align="center">Yeah, so just in case there was <em>any</em> question,</div><div align="center">I am definitely <em>NOT</em> in the running for Mother of the Year!</div><div align="center">I'm going to hang this photo up where I will be sure to see it... as a reminder... every day...</div><div align="center">I have really <em>GOT</em> to pull it back together, uh? </div><div align="center"><em>Sheesh!</em></div>Sarahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10019665549525024932noreply@blogger.com28