<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095</id><updated>2012-02-03T19:51:21.377-08:00</updated><category term='motherhood'/><category term='weather'/><category term='ecuador trip'/><category term='parenthood'/><category term='hand sanitizer'/><category term='gift ideas'/><category term='pet peeves'/><category term='slice of life'/><category term='introduction'/><category term='advice'/><category term='free'/><category term='random'/><category term='good reads'/><category term='baby boy'/><category term='Salt Lake City Utah'/><category term='complaining again'/><category term='NKOTB'/><category term='30'/><category term='Real Simple'/><category term='decorating'/><category term='scrapbooking'/><category term='seriously?'/><category term='give aways'/><category term='from Buddy'/><category term='craigslist'/><category term='UTA'/><category term='trax'/><category term='friday confessional'/><category term='razzled'/><category term='recipes'/><category term='review'/><category term='training'/><title type='text'>Little Wonders</title><subtitle type='html'>our lives are made 
in these small hours 
these little wonders, 
these twists &amp;amp; turns of fate 
time falls away, 
but these small hours, 
these small hours still remain</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>114</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-8734530739399917980</id><published>2011-12-15T13:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-15T14:00:12.342-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Festival of Trees</title><content type='html'>Every year we try to go to the local Festival of Trees.  We are living back in Utah again so we had the wonderful opportunity to go to the BIG one down at the Expo Center. This &lt;a href="http://festivaloftreesutah.com/about/history"&gt;Festival of Trees&lt;/a&gt; is a huge fundraiser for Primary Children's Hospital.  It is always very busy and a little overwhelming but in a good way.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ca6wqfzIga0/TupsEWjf8UI/AAAAAAAAGFE/R8R8NwzrSiY/s1600/IMG_4464.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ca6wqfzIga0/TupsEWjf8UI/AAAAAAAAGFE/R8R8NwzrSiY/s200/IMG_4464.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5686476301538423106" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WbiJ8pbpDKM/TupsElPJHyI/AAAAAAAAGFM/lL_KimLhi6w/s1600/IMG_4489.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WbiJ8pbpDKM/TupsElPJHyI/AAAAAAAAGFM/lL_KimLhi6w/s200/IMG_4489.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5686476305479573282" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As most of you know, Primary Children's has a very special place in our hearts.  It is where our dear Faith spent many days and where we were able to meet many living angels who helped her (and us) live for the 10 months that she did.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Going to the Festival of Trees (especially this one) helps me feel her sweet spirit and remember those who helped us so much those 10 months of her life.&lt;br /&gt;Every year I say to myself:  "we are going to do a tree one of these years".  A Faith- filled tree.  I decided this year that 2012 is the year our tree will be there!  It will be a big project and we will appreciate any help that is given.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would like the tree to be centered around Faith in the Savior, as it is His birth and life that we celebrate especially at this time of year.&lt;br /&gt;Some ornaments I will be making with clear bulbs and transparent pictures of the Savior.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vAE4Ff8Wtd4/TuplwsPvJHI/AAAAAAAAGEY/7m6aiEltb0U/s1600/transparent%2Bornament.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vAE4Ff8Wtd4/TuplwsPvJHI/AAAAAAAAGEY/7m6aiEltb0U/s200/transparent%2Bornament.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5686469366693962866" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some will just be pictures tied with ribbon:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NIiy5MjqInU/Tupl9-82DCI/AAAAAAAAGEk/UEK81I1oWe4/s1600/picture%2Bornaments.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NIiy5MjqInU/Tupl9-82DCI/AAAAAAAAGEk/UEK81I1oWe4/s200/picture%2Bornaments.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5686469595053296674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would also like some larger pictures/prints that are nicely framed, either to go under the tree or beside it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ylu4Wurjkhw/TupsEu9oUPI/AAAAAAAAGFc/9eVDRB-Gl-Q/s1600/IMG_4506.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ylu4Wurjkhw/TupsEu9oUPI/AAAAAAAAGFc/9eVDRB-Gl-Q/s200/IMG_4506.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5686476308090474738" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the garland I would like to be red beads.  Similar to this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-M1lJRTb1lIs/Tupmzlyiv8I/AAAAAAAAGE0/Bef-Ku1DaT8/s1600/red%2Bbead%2Bgarland.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 152px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-M1lJRTb1lIs/Tupmzlyiv8I/AAAAAAAAGE0/Bef-Ku1DaT8/s200/red%2Bbead%2Bgarland.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5686470516012138434" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The tree will be the major expense because I would like a pre-lit tree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom, the talented lady that she is, will be making the tree skirt or a quilt to go at the base of the tree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All of these things will be a part of our Faith-filled tree and it will be set up at next years Festival of Trees.&lt;br /&gt;Every penny (100%) raised at Festival of Trees goes to help children at Primary Children's Medical Center.  &lt;br /&gt;Last year, more than $14.3 million charity care dollars were used to cover over 14,057 hospital visits at Primary Children's Medical Center. (&lt;a href="http://festivaloftreesutah.com/faqs"&gt;read more&lt;/a&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you would like to help or donate an item, please email me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We appreciate the love and friendship we have been blessed with by each of you.  And we wish you a very blessed Christmas season.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-8734530739399917980?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/8734530739399917980/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=8734530739399917980' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/8734530739399917980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/8734530739399917980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2011/12/festival-of-trees.html' title='Festival of Trees'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ca6wqfzIga0/TupsEWjf8UI/AAAAAAAAGFE/R8R8NwzrSiY/s72-c/IMG_4464.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-5275253608777574550</id><published>2011-10-05T20:56:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-10-05T21:43:07.925-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='motherhood'/><title type='text'>Adventures in the Airport are not Allowed</title><content type='html'>On our way home from a great vacation in Norfolk VA we had a three hour layover @ &lt;a href="http://www.mccarran.com/"&gt;McCarren National Airport&lt;/a&gt; in Vegas.  The first thing Buddy said was "I want to play that game" pointing to the slot machine. John responded with "No Buddy, that game isn't for kids."  Then Buddy said "I want YOU to play that game." - LOL.&lt;br /&gt;After about an hour it was getting tedious.  We had just finished a 4 hour flight from Norfolk &amp; everyone was pretty tired of sitting.  My brother Mike called to tell me that there is a giant turtle in the airport.  So.. being the awesome mom that I am I said "Buddy!  Diego said there is a turtle in the airport that needs rescuing."  Off we went - Buddy, "J" &amp; I.  No stroller, no diaper bag, no tickets, no drivers license.  Figuring we just missed it &amp; it was around the next corner.  &lt;br /&gt;We asked a worker &amp; he said "Oh yeah, it's in concourse D" &amp; pointed the direction to go.  Kept walking &amp; found a map of the airport &amp; turns out concourse D is separate from all the other concourses in a completely different building.  Buddy was sad.  &lt;br /&gt;Then we found the moving sidewalks and Buddy created a game.  Run on the moving sidewalks then turn around &amp; go back using the other moving sidewalks going the opposite direction. Repeat.  I was thinking "hey he's a kid."  I'll walk quickly after him (holding 'J') &amp; he's not hurting anyone.  Just being kind of annoying to the other passengers.  &lt;br /&gt;After about 10 mintues I saw a PSA worker &amp; figured I would ask him if going to concourse D was a possibility without a ticket to one of those airlines. "Sure" he said "as long as you are past the security point you can go where ever you want. Just have someone open the door for you."&lt;br /&gt;So I did.  Boys in tow.  Arms are starting to ache a little from "J" but not too bad &amp; hey we get to ride the tram/train to the other concourse. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SwYJ4ajdT8Y/To0wcTsjtcI/AAAAAAAAFUc/cqFLTUmrWzk/s1600/IMG_4163.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SwYJ4ajdT8Y/To0wcTsjtcI/AAAAAAAAFUc/cqFLTUmrWzk/s200/IMG_4163.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660233569556215234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Concourse D was made for kids.  There are giant statues of a Lizard, a Bunny, &amp; the infamous Turtle.  There is a kids play area. Plus you get to ride the tram to get there.  &lt;br /&gt;Well "J" is starting to get tired &amp; I figured it's about an hour before we leave - we need to head back.  Buddy doesn't want to.  So I hold his hand &amp; he does the dead body drop.  So I'm pulling a 3 yr old by his arm (who is going between laughing at how fun this is &amp; whining because he doesn't want to leave) &amp; in my other (now aching) arm a 20 lb, hungry, infant.  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vIFDb1cA7Yo/To0wtAp4COI/AAAAAAAAFUk/2FnhAoU1M2k/s1600/IMG_4164.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vIFDb1cA7Yo/To0wtAp4COI/AAAAAAAAFUk/2FnhAoU1M2k/s200/IMG_4164.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660233856502466786" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ride the tram back but then get to the other side of security &amp; I don't want to cross that line because I have no ticket or id with me.  I check with a PSA officer &amp; going past "the point of no return" through security again is the only way to get to the other concourses.  (now all these people I've had to explain that we had a layover &amp; wanted to go to D to see the turtle &amp; they definetly think I'm crazy).  &lt;br /&gt;So... I go past the point of no return &amp; talk to a different PSA officer on the other side &amp; she explains that even if John comes he can't hand me anything over the red line.  So he is going to have to come past the point &amp; go through security again.  &lt;br /&gt;By now Buddy is whining "I'm hungry"  J is screaming the same &amp; my arms feel like they are going to fall off &amp; I'm sweaty &amp; tired.  &lt;br /&gt;John brought me my ticket &amp; they examined the ticket (while I was waiting 50 ft away) &amp; id to make sure it indeed was tickets &amp; not a form of terrorism, another TSA officer brought me the tickets &amp; my id.  I go through security with 2 screaming kids (yes shoes off, pockets emptied, all the joys of that as well).  &amp; then we rush to get back to the gate because John says it is boarding any minute (which he was wrong - we still had 15 minutes until boarding).  &lt;br /&gt;Needless to say -6 TSA agents spoken to (and story explained), two aching arms, two hungry kids, and one tired - now wiser mom later -  we had an adventure &amp; saw (or saved - in our Diego make believe story world) the turtle!  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Zr8DTEfC7as/To0xQ15wSiI/AAAAAAAAFU0/FUVHeDuWfME/s1600/IMG_4172.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Zr8DTEfC7as/To0xQ15wSiI/AAAAAAAAFU0/FUVHeDuWfME/s200/IMG_4172.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660234472091568674" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Pm0UTjY8Kis/To0xQjEhBzI/AAAAAAAAFUs/pF89H8XX_XY/s1600/IMG_4169.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Pm0UTjY8Kis/To0xQjEhBzI/AAAAAAAAFUs/pF89H8XX_XY/s200/IMG_4169.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660234467036432178" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What should we learn from this lesson boys &amp; girls?&lt;br /&gt;1.  Always keep your ticket on you in the airport&lt;br /&gt;2.  If you have a child - bring a diaper bag with you wherever you go &lt;br /&gt;(with a change of infant clothes - but that is another story about the flight TO Norfolk)&lt;br /&gt;3.  Strollers are worth their weight in gold&lt;br /&gt;4.  Becky is going crazy trying to keep her children entertained.&lt;br /&gt;5.  Airports are NOT for Adventures&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-5275253608777574550?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/5275253608777574550/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=5275253608777574550' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/5275253608777574550'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/5275253608777574550'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2011/10/adventures-in-airport-are-not-allowed.html' title='Adventures in the Airport are not Allowed'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-SwYJ4ajdT8Y/To0wcTsjtcI/AAAAAAAAFUc/cqFLTUmrWzk/s72-c/IMG_4163.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-1729067905123132830</id><published>2011-08-14T19:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-08-14T21:11:04.550-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='free'/><title type='text'>Amazing Amici Club</title><content type='html'>A couple of weeks ago we had the opportunity to try some new food coming out of the kitchen at Carrabba's restaurants.  It was a fun evening.  Jen &amp; Stevie watched the little guys while we had some much needed time off.  When we arrived we were ushered to the "Amici Club Table" - two tables with about thirty people on each.  We enjoyed their bread with oil, vinegar, and pesto.  They gave us drinks (sodas, water &amp; juice were free - wine &amp; alcohol cost) then we were presented with a plate of skirt steak with a side of grilled Bruschette topped with roasted tomatoes and spinach.  At first I thought that we were expected to share since this was a "tasting" event.  But they brought plate after plate.  After the skirt steak we got to try a chicken dish.&lt;br /&gt;Sorry I'm not to detailing on the dishes.  It's been a couple of weeks.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I recommend that you join the &lt;a href="http://www.carrabbas.com/amici-club/"&gt;Amici club&lt;/a&gt; if you have a Carrabba's near you.  I got a free meal coupon for my birthday - which is coming up by the way.  &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-1729067905123132830?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/1729067905123132830/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=1729067905123132830' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/1729067905123132830'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/1729067905123132830'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2011/08/amazing-amici-club.html' title='Amazing Amici Club'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-8267440374249393794</id><published>2011-07-23T12:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-23T13:13:00.447-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blogging Hiatus</title><content type='html'>It's been over a month since I've posted to this blog.  Why? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* I don't really feel like we've done much.  House is still for sale in Idaho. I'm still struggling with motherhood (will this ever not be a struggle).  We still feel "new" here in this area (even though we've been here for 4 months.&lt;br /&gt;*Being the mother of two boys is exhaustingly nonproductive.  If I get one thing cleaned, its been a successful day.&lt;br /&gt;* I'm lazy and spend my free time watching LOST with John (we stopped somewhere after season 3 so we are watching it all over again) or at the pool with the family (which Turtle - aka Baby J - doesn't like cause most times he is stuck watching) or mindlessly searching the internet for the next coupon (or contest or freebie).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What has gone on in the last 2 months?&lt;br /&gt;*Turtle is growing.  He is eating food &amp; loves it :).  He will surpass Buddy - no problem.  He still won't take the bottle or binky at all - so I have to stay close (which some days is fine to let him tag along - other days it drives me nuts).&lt;br /&gt;*I'm looking into preschool for Buddy.  Even though he's only 3, he needs some more interaction with kids &amp; I'm sick of him asking "what are we going to do today mom?"  he will hopefully go part time in the fall&lt;br /&gt;* I work at home for a pest control company taking calls.  Which is nice cause I get to stay home with the kids.  Annoying because I have some customers who act like kids.  And I get paid like a kid ($2/call).  But it's nice to have some splurge money.&lt;br /&gt;*Buddy &amp; I have been on garage sale adventures almost every Saturday.  Hey - if the kids wake me up I might as well score some cheap clothes or something.&lt;br /&gt;*Because of the garage saling - John has accused me of being a hoarder.  To which I was a little upset.  Then he said "ok you're not a hoarder - just no more furniture in the garage or house ok?" (I have a dresser, desk, mirror &amp; bulletin board in the garage awaiting inspiration (and some kind of paint).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So that is why.  In case you care.  Which, of course you do - because you are reading this.  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-8267440374249393794?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/8267440374249393794/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=8267440374249393794' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/8267440374249393794'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/8267440374249393794'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2011/07/blogging-hiatus.html' title='Blogging Hiatus'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-7906895630646091702</id><published>2011-07-23T12:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-23T12:59:37.824-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='slice of life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><title type='text'>My Name is Becky &amp; I'm a coupon addict....</title><content type='html'>I'll write more about my blogging hiatus later.&lt;br /&gt;For now it's sufficient to say that couponing has become a major distraction in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know if you're a coupon addict if you experience the following:&lt;br /&gt;1.  You have more coupon blogs on your reader than you do blogs by friends/relatives (this goes the same for if you "like" more companies than you have "friends" on facebook).&lt;br /&gt;2.  Your toddler says to you "I want that coupon" and yells at you if he finds one of his coupons in the trash.&lt;br /&gt;3.  You have a coupon binder or mini-accordian file that is more than 1 inch thick.&lt;br /&gt;4.  You experience a type of high when you grab your Sunday paper&lt;br /&gt;5.  You don't even read your Sunday paper 50% of the time - you just grab the coupon inserts &amp; add them to your pile&lt;br /&gt;6.  You've contemplated or you have more than one subscription to the paper- just for those coupons&lt;br /&gt;7.  You learn to recognize cashiers &amp; know some of their names&lt;br /&gt;8.  You have more tubes of toothpaste (or multipacks of toothbrushes or packs of disposable razors) in your stockpile than you do members of your family.&lt;br /&gt;9.  You feel sad any time you have to pay full price for an item - and rethink that purchase at least twice before buying.&lt;br /&gt;10.  Your printer always has a coupon printed out every time you pick up something else from it.&lt;br /&gt;11.  You've started to look past the glares you receive in check out lines and realize they are just jealous.&lt;br /&gt;12.  You're jealous of the Extreme Couponing chicks you see on TLC or read about on the internet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Remember - acceptance is the first step to recovery.&lt;br /&gt;I have a problem with at least half of these (yes Buddy likes coupons for anything to do with Cars).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-7906895630646091702?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/7906895630646091702/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=7906895630646091702' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/7906895630646091702'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/7906895630646091702'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2011/07/my-name-is-becky-im-coupon-addict.html' title='My Name is Becky &amp; I&apos;m a coupon addict....'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-2738085924942845112</id><published>2011-05-03T20:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-05-03T20:56:04.118-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='review'/><title type='text'>Kraft First Tastes</title><content type='html'>I recently have become obsessed with couponing.  My RSS feed has about four couponing sites that help me cheat.  Basically they tell me the store, the product, and the coupons I need to get a great price.  I know it's becoming pretty common and it seems like it's a mom thing too.  I think I'm even going to subscribe to the Sunday paper (I found a deal where it's $1 a paper &amp; I'll get more than that out of the coupons I think) even though John reads the news online &amp; I use my time to read blogs and books (news can be depressing and maybe it's ignorant to keep myself in the dark but the dark is my happy place - LOL).  &lt;br /&gt;I've also joined a site/community called &lt;a href="http://www.kraftfirsttaste.com"&gt;Kraft First Tastes&lt;/a&gt;. My first sample was for Jello Temptations.  Instead of mailing out actual samples, Kraft send you a coupon for a free one (plus another coupon for a certain dollar amount off your second purchase)..  So I got the Harvest Chocolate kind &amp; it was really yummy.  It is a custard like pudding on top of a creamy, more pie-filling type pudding.  Yummy treat for me!&lt;br /&gt;Today I got a coupon for Kraft shredded cheese with a touch of philadelphia which looks really good too. &lt;br /&gt;Since this is my blog, here is where I'll be reviewing the products I get to try.  I recommend you sign up, then you can get free food too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-2738085924942845112?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/2738085924942845112/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=2738085924942845112' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/2738085924942845112'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/2738085924942845112'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2011/05/kraft-first-tastes.html' title='Kraft First Tastes'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-4010120796715061445</id><published>2011-03-14T15:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-21T15:11:35.530-07:00</updated><title type='text'>"Home" is where the heart is..mmwwwwaa</title><content type='html'>Buddy is helping me blog (his contribution was his favorite letters - the m's w's &amp; a's).&lt;br /&gt;So a week over due - here's the post about our new place.&lt;br /&gt;Where to start?  I think it was November when John got an email from an old supervisor saying that the company he works for was hiring.  It wasn't the best timing in our minds but must be in Heavenly Fathers.   John actually interviewed with this company before we got the job in Idaho Falls and it didn't work out back then but it did for the present.  So we decided yes (for a number of reasons) if they could wait until our baby was 6 weeks old.  I, nievely, thought "oh I'll be fine &amp; fully recovered by then."  What I didn't think about was that not only do bodies not recover as quickly as we would like them to but that I would also have TWO boys ruling my life - and thus prohibit me from accomplishing even the littlest of tasks some days.  &lt;br /&gt;Time flew by and it was time to move.  Luckily John's parents- "D" &amp; "T" - have moved a lot (since D was in the navy) and they had the time to come to Idaho and help us.  But it was more like they did everything and John &amp; I occasionally helped them.  Seriously.  They got everything packed, loaded in the truck, my house cleaned like it was brand new, unloaded from the truck, and even some stuff put away (like my whole kitchen).  Definitely life savers!  Plus T was a good emotional sounding board, since she had to leave several of her "dream houses" to relocate for her hubbys job - she knew some of what I was going through.&lt;br /&gt;I basically kept the boys out of the way for the week.  :)  Buddy and I did most of the things we loved to do around Idaho Falls.  We went to play gym, to Hastings (to play trains &amp; with the stuffed animals), and to McDonalds.  We missed story time (cause I was exhausted that morning) and the zoo (cause it's still closed for the season).  Unfortunately we even missed saying "goodbye" to our neighbors (because our life was so crazy &amp; I didn't think about it after 5 when they are home).  We did get to say "see you later" to our playdate friends (and scrapbooking &amp; bookclub friends in my case) and to Sam (and his family).  We definitely plan on being back- to sign over our house &amp; visit.    We did have some sad moments.  I can't remember the times I cried or what I cried about (I'm blaming part of the crying on pp hormones, the other part is just who I am: a boob!).  Buddy was emotional too (and acting out to show it).  Probably one of the saddest cries I heard from him was when we were dropping T off @ the house and Buddy saw his toy box being loaded into the truck.  "I want my toybox!  I want in that truck!"  :(  *Sad*&lt;br /&gt;We stayed the night @ Grandma 2's on Friday because John &amp; D had already started driving the truck and I had a meeting in Rexburg Saturday morning.  Then after my meeting (and another fabulous lunch from Grandma), we hit the road.  T drove until Brigham City (which has the best Mc D's for toddlers) and the boys &amp; I got  a nap.  After J was fed and Buddy stretched his legs we continued until we arrived @ our new home.&lt;br /&gt;There the truck was unloaded (thanks to a load of John's family pitching in), our beds were up &amp; made (thanks to my father in law &amp; John), and my kitchen was unpacked (thanks to my brother in law &amp; sister in law)!  &lt;br /&gt;My life here is crazy - or it feels crazy.  I feel like I get nothing done (because there is so much to do).  We took over a lease so the lady didn't feel like she needed to clean before she left (ewww) and the carpets are especially gross but we didn't really notice until all the furniture was in.  Boxes are everywhere.  We moved into a 1300 sq ft townhome so our single car garage is filled with stuff &amp; there is still stuff everywhere in boxes (that I haven' t been able to unpack).   With the boys &amp; still trying to get a nap in (so I"m not totally exhausted and witchy by 6 pm), &lt;br /&gt;I drive John to work (about 5 min away) since we only have the one car.  But I told him this morning he needs to find the bus schedule or get another car because loading &amp; unloading the boys is ridiculous in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;I'm about 40 minutes away from my sister &amp; brother in law, so they came over for dinner on Sunday.  Other than that I've met my neighbor &amp; their Huge boxer dog (named moose) and that's it. &lt;br /&gt;Other than the cleanliness issue the other thing that is driving me nuts is going up &amp; down these stairs.  It makes me realize that I want a ranch style house when we purchase again.  :)The new place is nice, small but nice.  I don't like the stairs.  I've already tripped &amp; got a huge bruise on my arm (and Buddy was holding my hand, so he went head first down a couple of stairs).  I don't like the dog poop on every yard (including our front &amp; back patches of grass). Buddy has learned not to walk on grass &amp; every time we pass this one house, on our way to the park, he says "I don't like dog poop.  those are bad dogs."  LOL - I guess I might be complaining about that too much.&lt;br /&gt;We went to Salt Lake today &amp; stopped by an old friends house.  That is nice that we already have friends here - even if they are 30 minutes away.  Plus we are spoiled with lots of family around - even if my parents are farther away now.&lt;br /&gt;Trying to look on / stay positive.  Some days work more than others.  Now it is time to go play with Buddy. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-4010120796715061445?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/4010120796715061445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=4010120796715061445' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/4010120796715061445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/4010120796715061445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2011/03/home-is-where-heart-ismmwwwwaa.html' title='&quot;Home&quot; is where the heart is..mmwwwwaa'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-5249765526348361282</id><published>2011-02-15T20:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-15T21:24:34.968-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='seriously?'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='craigslist'/><title type='text'>What did you say?</title><content type='html'>Here's my day:&lt;br /&gt;12 am-ish  : fed Baby J &lt;br /&gt;4-ish: fed Baby J, Baby J woke up Buddy, gave Buddy a drink &amp; he went back to bed&lt;br /&gt;7-ish: fed Baby J in a tired stupor (why this feeding is always the hardest for me in the morning, I have no clue)&lt;br /&gt;8:00  Buddy wakes up  says "I'm grumpy.  Bad baby woke me up." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we had a picnic breakfast (placemats on the kitchen floor is considered a picnic) of granola bars and milk (I wasn't in the mood to fight Buddy on eating today, which you will see by his food choices).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got ready for the day and Buddy continued to be grumpy and whine.  All day long.  Sure it's sweet that he says "I want to snuggle".  But when he thinks snuggling is laying on my bed &amp; messing with our clock radio on the headboard (and turning the volume up so that I'm sure we are damaging Baby J's new little ears) - it gets old.  Quick.  &lt;br /&gt;"I want to snuggle"  in whiny voice x20= let's play with mommy's ipod touch so she can get something accomplished today.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then it was "I want my phone."   I was confused.  &lt;br /&gt;"Your phone?" I ask.  &lt;br /&gt;"Yeah. The black thing with games and music." &lt;br /&gt;"Oh, you mean MY Ipod."&lt;br /&gt;"Silly Mommy, it's not an Ipod.  It doesn't have eyes."&lt;br /&gt;....Yeah that was cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lunch for Buddy consisted of a graham cracker, two bites of string cheese, and a couple sips of generic V8 fusion juice (it's worth the money because we can get veggies in his diet that way).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fast forward to my pointless doctors appointment.  They thought my scar was infected a week or so ago so they put me on antibiotics and had me come in again today, well I was / am upset @ the way the Dr. sewed/stapled me up (it doesn't look nice/like a clean job) so I asked to see the Dr. instead of the NP.  Basically he blew me off saying it will heal fine in 3-4 months.  But I did get my note to my gym excusing me from November until April.  The only thing that disturbed me about that was that my doctor asked me to spell "athletic" twice (the gym I go to is Apple Athletic).  At first I thought "is this a test to see if I am abusing my drugs?"  (like I felt his nurse accused me of doing when I called to get refills last week).  But no, I guess he reallly just didn't know how to spell "athletic".  &lt;br /&gt;What?! I'm really glad I had a genius like that perform surgery on me!  NOT!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come home, we are all tired but Buddy refuses a nap and Baby J has started to get in on the crankiness (crying whenever I put him down).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rest went ok.  Watched Jeopardy (Ken is getting whopped up on by Watson the computer).  My friend &amp; her son came over (and brought dinner) so we were entertained for a couple hours (and the whining lessened).  Bed time for Buddy (not sleep, just in bed crying off &amp; on - why won't this kid GO TO SLEEP?).  Sold my gym contract (bought on craigslist, sold on craigslist - awesome possum), now just need to sell the house &amp; we are done (sad to leave my friends &amp; wonderful house but glad John will be happier @ this job and we will have opportunities to meet new people).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now to wake up Baby J, top his stomach off, and get some sleep!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-5249765526348361282?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/5249765526348361282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=5249765526348361282' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/5249765526348361282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/5249765526348361282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2011/02/what-did-you-say.html' title='What did you say?'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-6104631346225041835</id><published>2011-02-06T13:05:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-08T15:22:15.296-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Staycation is over....</title><content type='html'>Grandma came and took care of all of us for a couple of days when Baby J was born.  Then on Tuesday she took Buddy so that Mommy &amp; Baby J could have a Baby Staycation and get used to each other.  It was really really quiet.  And some points I felt pretty lonely.  But other than those things, I loved it.  The house was clean, John and I could watch TV at night (and not worry about waking up Buddy), and Baby J and I were able to enjoy each other without me worrying that Buddy was jealous.  He was so busy having fun that he could only talk for a few seconds when we Skyped together at night.  I really appreciate my mom, my dad, and Aunt Ali for taking care of my Buddy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night Buddy came home.  I didn't realize until this morning (when I was getting him dressed) how big he is.  WOW, I really do have a Big Boy living in my house.  Even though he rawrs like a dinosaur (to the point where he is losing his voice a little) and wakes up early - we are all glad to have him home.  (John especially missed his boy - I didn't think I would get the two of them settled down to go to bed last night- they were having so much fun chasing and wrestling eachother).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow is the first official day - where I go solo with the two boys (at least until 5:30- when John gets home).  Wish me luck!&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some cute pics of "Big Brother" and "Little Brother".  (My friend &lt;a href="http://kenziescraftcorner.blogspot.com/"&gt;Kenzie&lt;/a&gt; made these shirts - aren't they just adorable?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://goo.gl/photos/zZBdJguCZP" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:1em"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/TU8M-ojEbxI/AAAAAAAAFRk/7sGTaBII0W4/s512/IMG_2878.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://goo.gl/photos/W7y3XrXaFZ" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:1em"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/TU8NBxSZ5DI/AAAAAAAAFR0/XYr1dA_ByIY/s512/IMG_2882.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://goo.gl/photos/Uk7i6GF9ez" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:1em"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/TU8NAYdjbuI/AAAAAAAAFRw/Z3k6fGPMVRs/s512/IMG_2881.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://goo.gl/photos/jzYNsRu8O5" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:1em"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/TU8NFldLnoI/AAAAAAAAFSM/A8S3MojnHeA/s512/IMG_2888.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-6104631346225041835?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/6104631346225041835/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=6104631346225041835' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/6104631346225041835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/6104631346225041835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2011/02/staycation-is-over.html' title='The Staycation is over....'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/TU8M-ojEbxI/AAAAAAAAFRk/7sGTaBII0W4/s72-c/IMG_2878.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-2909374047500649299</id><published>2011-02-02T17:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-02-02T18:04:23.245-08:00</updated><title type='text'>We hope Phil is right</title><content type='html'>Today Punxsutawney Phil predicted an early spring.  We sure hope so, it has been freezing!&lt;br /&gt;Buddy is spending a couple days at grandmas while I recooperate and J  (we don't have an online nickname yet - we are open to suggestions) gets used to this freezing world.  He is a great eater and sleeps a lot.  It is really really quiet around here without my toddler but I'm doing what I'm supposed to and taking it easy.&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for all the well wishes &amp; prayers.  I know they have helped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://goo.gl/photos/pV5WIrVtlC" imageanchor="1" style="clear:right;margin-bottom:1em;margin-left:1em"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/TUoM69h3-cI/AAAAAAAAFRQ/eGF00JbQBTs/s512/IMG_2865.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-2909374047500649299?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/2909374047500649299/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=2909374047500649299' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/2909374047500649299'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/2909374047500649299'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2011/02/we-hope-phil-is-right.html' title='We hope Phil is right'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/TUoM69h3-cI/AAAAAAAAFRQ/eGF00JbQBTs/s72-c/IMG_2865.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-5298847033186222940</id><published>2011-01-21T20:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-14T18:49:35.941-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My name is Becky and I have an addiction.....</title><content type='html'>So packing up &amp; dejunking has made me realize a few things:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  It's easier to do for someone who is not attached to the junk.  And I'm a lot more attached than I thought I would be to stuff that really is just junk (probably wouldn't even qualify for a goodwill donation).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  I really wish that the new company would pack for us like the old company who moved us here did.  The only thing I had to pack was our underwear (cause I didn't want them to do that) and liquids/perishables.  I was SO spoiled.  They wrapped EVERYTHING (including a package of plastic bendy straws that we had in our kitchen) and transported it to our new place.  It was AMAZING.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  I have some addictions.&lt;br /&gt;I am addicted to scrapbook paper.  I haven't bought a TON since moving here, knowing how much I have and how long it will take me to use it all.  But I have purchased some.  It's hard - it's so cute or pretty.  I don't even know what I'll use it for, I just see a pretty pattern and have to have it.  Utah was bad for me in this aspect because there are a couple scrapbook warehouses that have sales down there.  I just have to stay away from those &amp; any craft store.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am addicted to books.  Mostly children's books but literature anthologies as well.  Buddy has a closet &amp; a 2 shelf bookshelf full.  Plus I have a box half way full with older kids (like first grade and older) books.  I blame this addiction on my love for reading, my desire for my children to love to read, goodwill and garage sales, and my dad.  When I was young and brought home one of my first book orders (how awesome were those by the way?) my dad said to me "will you read it?  Because I will buy you any quality book (probably ruling out smutty romances, which the closest I've got to reading those are Twilight series) that you will read and take care of.  This was amazing because he was still in school and my parents didn't have a lot of money.  Needless to say I had almost all (minus 3 I think) of the Babysitters Club books (up to #100, then they got old) as well as tons of Sweet Valley Twins, some Boxcar Children.... well you get the point.  Later on, when my frugality gene kicked in, I realized "hey you can borrow books &amp; read them for free from the library."  Yeah I don't know why I didn't realize this until later, but eventually I did so my parents pocketbook had a break.  &lt;br /&gt;Good news is that although I had a brief addiction to swaptree.com &amp; paperbackswap.com, I realized that no one is ever going to want some of the books I was holding on to and so they got sent to goodwill.  But that was only one box.  We seriously have over six full, waiting to be moved to our next adventure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am addicted to frames.  Anyone who knows me or who has been to my house knows that I am NO decorator.  I probably have three picture frames up in my house now (which we have lived in for over a year).  But I'm addicted to frames.  They, too, are SO pretty.  I realized this addiction years ago and have stopped going down the frame isle at Shopko or any store that I go to because I know I'll find something pretty.  Who knows what pictures to place in these beauties?  The pressure for the great picture to go with the great frame is too much.  So the frames sit.  Empty.  But beautiful all the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also like bags/purses (have a box of those).  The diaper bag thing has fueled this a little for me but I wouldn't say I'm addicted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well.  Some women like shoes, some like jewelry, some just like shopping in general.  My name is Becky and I'm addicted to scrapbook paper, books, and frames.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-5298847033186222940?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/5298847033186222940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=5298847033186222940' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/5298847033186222940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/5298847033186222940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2011/01/my-name-is-becky-and-i-have-addiction.html' title='My name is Becky and I have an addiction.....'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-3062367932153318183</id><published>2010-12-24T11:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-24T11:21:31.570-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Eve Snowman</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/TRTyHuiCjSI/AAAAAAAAFOc/nKNPPGLVaCs/s1600/IMG_2735.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/TRTyHuiCjSI/AAAAAAAAFOc/nKNPPGLVaCs/s200/IMG_2735.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5554330455018474786" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having a lawnmower is especially important in the process of building a quality snowman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/TRTyHftG1uI/AAAAAAAAFOU/n0sDGSHdemE/s1600/IMG_2740.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/TRTyHftG1uI/AAAAAAAAFOU/n0sDGSHdemE/s200/IMG_2740.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5554330451038361314" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/TRTyHGwUUiI/AAAAAAAAFOM/cNBwATM-318/s1600/IMG_2736.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/TRTyHGwUUiI/AAAAAAAAFOM/cNBwATM-318/s200/IMG_2736.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5554330444340941346" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope you all have a very Merry Christmas!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-3062367932153318183?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/3062367932153318183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=3062367932153318183' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/3062367932153318183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/3062367932153318183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/12/christmas-eve-snowman.html' title='Christmas Eve Snowman'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/TRTyHuiCjSI/AAAAAAAAFOc/nKNPPGLVaCs/s72-c/IMG_2735.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-7415357230546934027</id><published>2010-12-04T21:49:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-04T21:57:07.422-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='motherhood'/><title type='text'>Sayings from Buddy...</title><content type='html'>He used to say:&lt;br /&gt;"Poo Poo"  for purple, "Reese" for red, "Mano" for snowman, and an elephant sound for elephant.&lt;br /&gt;Now he's counting to ten (except he repeats 4 for the number 10), singing his ABCD's (yeah, it's not the ABC song, it's the ABCD song), and speaking in sentences.&lt;br /&gt;For example:  I was changing his diaper (which he always fights me on - so why doesn't he want to be potty trained?) and he was crying/screaming.  I said "Buddy, you need to be good so Santa will bring you toys."  He replied:  "I have lots of toys, downstairs.  I have balls, kitties, a puppy."&lt;br /&gt;When I was telling my mom over the phone that apparently he didn't need Santa, he copied / replied "No, I don't need Santa."  He thinks he doesn't have to be good because he already has toys.  I tell him "Buddy, you need to be more obedient."  He replies: "No, I not obedient."  &lt;br /&gt;By the end of January I'm going to have two of these trouble makers in my house.  I'll be lucky if I don't have all gray hair (or if I haven't pulled all my hair out) by age thirty.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-7415357230546934027?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/7415357230546934027/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=7415357230546934027' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/7415357230546934027'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/7415357230546934027'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/12/sayings-from-buddy.html' title='Sayings from Buddy...'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-3633129686521309301</id><published>2010-10-14T20:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-14T20:26:21.865-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='motherhood'/><title type='text'>kids = no sleep</title><content type='html'>I've decided that being a mom I have to give up a lot of things.  Hobbies, going through the drive through &amp; getting myself a treat (cause unfortunately Buddy recognizes any drive through as "sandwich"), not paying for daycare while working out (or working out for more than 1 hour cause I have to speed back to pick him up or I have to pay for another hour &amp; 15 min), going window shopping, long showers, and many more.  &lt;br /&gt;Until today, I didn't think I'd have to give up sleep.  Sure when you have a newborn - you sleep when they sleep and wake when they need feeding, but you usually get a nap.  This morning I was woken up by a new regular feature at our house - the speaking alarm clock.  &lt;br /&gt;"Maaaaaaaaaaaaaam, Moooooooooom, Get Up!"  "Get Up!" repeated endless times.&lt;br /&gt;But this time it was an hour before I usually get up. UGH!&lt;br /&gt;Ok, I'll get up.  And I did, reluctantly, like I do every morning.&lt;br /&gt;But after lunch I am very strict about naps.  We read stories then we take a nap. This works cause Buddy is still in a crib (we are thinking - I am dreading - about transitioning this weekend to a twin).  I put him in &amp; turn on his music, grab my ear plugs &amp; eye mask, and return to my cocoon of warm blankets &amp; try to sleep for a little bit.&lt;br /&gt;Not today.&lt;br /&gt;Skeletor (aka the baby growing in my womb) decided that nap time meant time to punch mom &amp; jump around for 40 minutes.  Yes, for 40 minutes straight I felt more movement out of this little guy than I have in our entire history together.&lt;br /&gt;Seriously, my kids are taking away the one last enjoyment I have to myself.  I guess I asked for it when I wanted to be a mom.  But someone should have warned me that with two kids you don't get any sleep, it might have deterred me for a little while.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-3633129686521309301?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/3633129686521309301/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=3633129686521309301' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/3633129686521309301'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/3633129686521309301'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/10/kids-no-sleep.html' title='kids = no sleep'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-6947317059515581590</id><published>2010-09-26T21:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-26T21:30:43.978-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenthood'/><title type='text'>Back to Brown</title><content type='html'>So we just got back to Idaho from our wonderful trip to Washington.  &lt;br /&gt;Buddy had an amazing time playing with his Vancouver &amp; Seattle cousins.  He is going to be so sad and bored tomorrow when it's back to me &amp; him.&lt;br /&gt;John went to a Primus concert with his brother and had a blast.  Although I have to laugh.  Two days later he can't walk without a limp because of all the jumping/moshing they did.  Nathan even had a moment there where he lost his shoe.  &lt;br /&gt;Skeletor (yes the unborn child has a nickname of a cartoon villian  -but the pictures of him look just like his namesake) is moving around a whole bunch.  He really liked the hot chocolate I had a couple of hours ago but I don't think he likes the laptop on my lap right now.&lt;br /&gt;Buddy was sick and barely got over it right before we left.  Now he has a cold again - ah, fall/winter has begun for my little terrible two.  And he screamed for all but 30 minutes from Brigham City clear to our house.  I was irritated but more worried about what I'm going to do when I have two screaming boys in the back seat come February.  I guess that's what headphones are for.&lt;br /&gt;I'll try to post some pictures later.  It was amazingly green and lush.  But I realized why on the first day in Seattle where I don't think I've ever driven in such rain.  I guess no place it perfect.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-6947317059515581590?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/6947317059515581590/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=6947317059515581590' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/6947317059515581590'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/6947317059515581590'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/09/back-to-brown.html' title='Back to Brown'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-1190199442897190224</id><published>2010-08-02T22:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-02T22:30:23.156-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><title type='text'>I have the best husband!</title><content type='html'>Just had a craving for grape juice &amp; he said he would go out and get me some.  I said it was WAY too late &amp; I'd already brushed my teeth, but he left (in his poison covered - from spraying weeds tonight- clothes).  &lt;br /&gt;That &amp; the fact that he is makes dinner almost every night for all of us &amp; takes such good care of Buddy.&lt;br /&gt;I am SO blessed.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-1190199442897190224?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/1190199442897190224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=1190199442897190224' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/1190199442897190224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/1190199442897190224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/08/i-have-best-husband.html' title='I have the best husband!'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-3610102431724438337</id><published>2010-05-13T20:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-13T20:43:18.834-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='give aways'/><title type='text'>I am winning like crazy!!</title><content type='html'>So frequently I enter online giveaways.  It's one of my addictions, plus it gets me exposed to new companies and my wish list is ever growing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently I have been winning like crazy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I won a family tree on &lt;a href="http://makeyouover.blogspot.com"&gt;Make You Over blog&lt;/a&gt; from an etsy designer &lt;a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop/erinjaneshop"&gt;ErinJane&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://ny-image1.etsy.com/il_430xN.137329057.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 430px; height: 537px;" src="http://ny-image1.etsy.com/il_430xN.137329057.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obviously, that's not my family but Internet safety is important so if you want to see the real one I won you will have to visit me @ my house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I won two baby rattle toys - a ball &amp; a cube on &lt;a href="http://smileadaygiveaways.blogspot.com/"&gt;Smile a Day Giveaways&lt;/a&gt; from the &lt;a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop/littlethingsboutique"&gt;Little Things Boutique&lt;/a&gt;.  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://ny-image2.etsy.com/il_fullxfull.123576226.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 1432px; height: 1432px;" src="http://ny-image2.etsy.com/il_fullxfull.123576226.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://ny-image2.etsy.com/il_fullxfull.129595942.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 1560px; height: 1560px;" src="http://ny-image2.etsy.com/il_fullxfull.129595942.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was going to give them as a gift to someone but Buddy saw them &amp; needed to have more things to throw around.  LOL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I won a vintage groove jewelry kit from &lt;a href="http://www.facebook.com/pages/Making-Memories-Jewelry/354441574221?ref=ts"&gt;Making Memories' Jewelry facebook page&lt;/a&gt;.  &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.makingmemoriesjewelry.com/Images/display/1924"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 800px; height: 1000px;" src="http://www.makingmemoriesjewelry.com/Images/display/1924" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used it to make my mom a cute necklace for mothers day (since my original idea didn't pan out, maybe next year).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, I won a custom roman shade on &lt;a href="http://www.domestically-speaking.com/"&gt;Domestically Speaking blog&lt;/a&gt; from &lt;a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop/qualitycustomdesigns"&gt;Quality Custom Designs&lt;/a&gt;.  I haven't chosen a fabric yet, but this is going to be a great solution for our downstairs family room.  (I'll post some pics when I have it finished &amp; installed).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My trick to winning?  Persistence and entering lots of giveaways. :)  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever won anything online?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-3610102431724438337?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/3610102431724438337/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=3610102431724438337' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/3610102431724438337'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/3610102431724438337'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/05/i-am-winning-like-crazy.html' title='I am winning like crazy!!'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-1468354446102795831</id><published>2010-05-06T11:24:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-06T13:35:16.171-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='complaining again'/><title type='text'>13 trillion dollars and counting</title><content type='html'>By the time you read this post our nation will be in debt 13 trillion dollars.  Well probably, right at this moment it is $12,954,...,...,...  I'm not blaming any particular person, I'm blaming the system as a whole.  I found two ways that our government could save money and when called on it, they refused.  &lt;br /&gt;1:   Ever year about four months before your birthday you get a paper statement in the mail saying what you can expect your retirement benefits to be based on what you have paid into social security.  First of all, yeah right.  Like SS is even going to be around by the time John &amp; I retire (although I have never gotten a statement, John gets them regularly - it seems like every quarter or so, although the worker I spoke to yesterday on the phone said that isn't true).  Second of all, duh!  I know what I reported last year as paying social security.  And if I really cared, I could look up my past tax returns and see what I paid.  Third, why in this electronic age, can I not get these via email or some secure login social security website?  Oh yeah because we have to waste trees, ink (yeah I'm turning into a recycling hippie here), postage, and labor (for delivering) to send these out to people who couldn't care less.&lt;br /&gt;2:  Census.  Ok, I realized 1/2 way through this segment that I'd already posted my lovely experience with the census worker.  Anyway, on top of that I had a census worker come to my house today.  I told her we already filled it out but she said she had to fill it out anyway.  Also, my brother &amp; sister in law got  2 census forms in the mail a couple weeks apart.  When they called they were told to fill out the form again and send it in AGAIN.  Yeah - more $ down the toilet to pay for what has already been done!&lt;br /&gt;grrrrrr government.  Love the freedoms but hate the wastefulness.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-1468354446102795831?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/1468354446102795831/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=1468354446102795831' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/1468354446102795831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/1468354446102795831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/05/13-trillion-dollars-and-counting.html' title='13 trillion dollars and counting'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-96201338005079485</id><published>2010-04-20T22:46:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-20T22:56:18.207-07:00</updated><title type='text'>a little excited perhaps?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S86S407HC7I/AAAAAAAAE2Y/iwx96s76buM/s1600/Photo+28.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S86S407HC7I/AAAAAAAAE2Y/iwx96s76buM/s200/Photo+28.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5462464903023889330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John was performing his new nightly ritual of checking the shipping status of his new computer.  Apparently they shipped the remote out first and it was delivered today.  Since I got the mail before noon and I don't know when the mail arrives (we've only lived here since September), John actually got the mail key and is headed out, across the street, to check and see if the remote is there.  (yes it's 11:49) A little excited for his new toy perhaps?  Well that's ok - it's taken him 3 years to actually order the thing (he wanted specific updates &amp; processors &amp; other jargon that I've stopped trying to understand before he spent the money). It's cute to see him like a kid in the candy store.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh &amp; can I just complain how NOT environmentally friendly apple is - first of all shipping a stupid remote seperate from the computer &amp; second in a box that is like 50 times the size of the actual remote &amp; third by printing instruxtions for a remote (seriously if you don't know how to use a remote, I'm sure you made a wise investment by buying an apple computer).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-96201338005079485?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/96201338005079485/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=96201338005079485' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/96201338005079485'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/96201338005079485'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/04/little-excited-perhaps.html' title='a little excited perhaps?'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S86S407HC7I/AAAAAAAAE2Y/iwx96s76buM/s72-c/Photo+28.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-1794943320151870358</id><published>2010-04-20T21:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-20T21:38:29.143-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='slice of life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='complaining again'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='30'/><title type='text'>Hiatus?</title><content type='html'>It's been over a week, maybe two since I've posted last.  Have I been enjoying my sabbatical?  Well I joined an "athletic club" aka gym &amp; after the first visit I realized how much I've missed the gym since we've moved here.  I've never really experienced a "runner's high" (probably because I'm not a real runner - I walk with some intermittent jogging) but the endorphins have kicked in.  Although it's a little farther than my old gym (I definitely will drive every day, which with my old one I could walk if I was feeling adventurous) and I have no awesome work out buddies (until they get their rears in gear and find jobs here) and it's hard to go at night (Buddy &amp; I haven't tried the gym's $1.75/hour daycare yet, but we will) - I still love it.  There is something awesome about watching &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;The Biggest Loser&lt;/span&gt; (with their last chance work out) and being on the elliptical.  My old habits were to watch &amp; feel incredibly hungry for chocolate (it's hard to see someone sweating so much).  &lt;br /&gt;Anyway,  I am on my official week 1 of training for the half marathon.  Registration is May 1st &amp; I &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;AM&lt;/span&gt; going to complete the walk/jog with my two former workout buddies.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, I created a company for myself tonight.  I wanted a free subscription to Real Simple and they wouldn't take "home maker" as a defined enough business title (kept asking me to select another subcategory &amp; wouldn't let me select all - even though I do it all).  So now you can refer to me as Mrs. Becky  -----, Purveyor of Awesomeness, ----- Home Inc. (the ----'s are for my last name - I'm not going to post it on the Internet - safety first kids, safety first.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and I am coming to dislike the whole census thing.  At first I thought it was cool, doing extraction for family history- I've seen a lot of census records.  I thought how awesome it would be that someone could look me up and see that I'd been here, at this time (like that one TV show with the famous people doing family search).  But then I saw the signs and the "workers".  So my experience with a census worker was this:  I was at the library &amp; was going to pick up a form since our house is new and for some reason we didn't get one in the mail.  The census "worker" (who I thought was just a creepy guy using his laptop and sitting really close to the public information table for weeks on end) stopped me - my hand outstretched to get a form - and said "You need a census form?"  I replied "Yes"  Then he said "English?"  I replied "Yes" (although I wanted to say "Obviously").  Then he said (as he handed me this rectangular shaped form) "there you go".  &lt;br /&gt;Yeah, he totally earned his $12/hour.  We can't pay teachers $12 an hour but we can pay a creepy guy hovering over forms.&lt;br /&gt;And the sign outside the library says "Have questions about your census form?  A representative will be at the library M-F 10:00-5:30"  I filled out the form and the only questions I have is: 1) why did you make the form this large rectangular shape that is obviously costing tax payers more to send back?  and 2)  how could anyone SERIOUSLY have questions about this form.   If you can read and you have a black or blue ink pen, I'm pretty sure you can fill in your name and age (and those living with you).  A first grader could probably do it (except those boxes are a little small for first grade print - ok maybe a second grader).&lt;br /&gt;Then the signs &amp; commercials everywhere (&amp; we don't even watch the 8 non-cable channels we have more than 4 hours a week).  "Fill out your form"  "Don't forget to be counted"  blah blah blah.  Seriously, the only people who aren't going to fill out their form are:  1) people who can't read &amp; fill it out themselves - but they could have a "worker" help them and 2) illegals who don't want to be found out.  And the census "workers" that will be pounding the streets like missionaries here in a month or so, do you think that they are really going to answer the door (or even be home) when you come a knocking?  I doubt it.&lt;br /&gt;So - I like the whole idea &amp; understand the importance of being counted (it's not like I'm trying to hide from the government or that I think the whole thing is a big-brother-watching-you conspiracy)  but really - how many &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;millions&lt;/span&gt; (which we will go into debt to China for) will be spent because of stupidity when it comes to the census?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And those three things are all I've been thinking about since my last post (not counting the company I "made" tonight - so I guess I've only been thinking really about two things the last two weeks).  I know you &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;really&lt;/span&gt; missed me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-1794943320151870358?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/1794943320151870358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=1794943320151870358' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/1794943320151870358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/1794943320151870358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/04/hiatus.html' title='Hiatus?'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-4916950626982515212</id><published>2010-04-06T10:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-06T10:28:52.384-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='baby boy'/><title type='text'>Missing: "Gree" "Beep Beep"</title><content type='html'>1970's Roadrunner Hot wheels car missing. &lt;br /&gt;2 inches long by 3 centimeters high&lt;br /&gt;Bright green in color with two black stripes up the hood.&lt;br /&gt;Answers to the name "Gree"  or "Beep Beep"&lt;br /&gt;Can usually be seen hanging out with "Blue Beep Beep" or cruising around the house.&lt;br /&gt;Last seen yesterday around noon.&lt;br /&gt;If spotted or found please call (and don't be alarmed by the screaming in the background Buddy is just freaking out about something or being forced fed healthy food)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-4916950626982515212?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/4916950626982515212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=4916950626982515212' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/4916950626982515212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/4916950626982515212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/04/missing-gree-beep-beep.html' title='Missing: &quot;Gree&quot; &quot;Beep Beep&quot;'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-7400697137624496023</id><published>2010-03-31T21:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-31T22:31:09.721-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scrapbooking'/><title type='text'>Digital Scrapbook Pages</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S7QvIFZJ3mI/AAAAAAAAEz8/2WThakjS-Go/s1600/saturday,feb12.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 154px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S7QvIFZJ3mI/AAAAAAAAEz8/2WThakjS-Go/s200/saturday,feb12.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455036864585653858" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S7QvHREwLNI/AAAAAAAAEz0/fW0Xr9gfvLU/s1600/Judy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 154px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S7QvHREwLNI/AAAAAAAAEz0/fW0Xr9gfvLU/s200/Judy.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455036850541440210" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S7QvGwPfZEI/AAAAAAAAEzs/FDgmXkbIt4g/s1600/Faith_elder_jeppson.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 154px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S7QvGwPfZEI/AAAAAAAAEzs/FDgmXkbIt4g/s200/Faith_elder_jeppson.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455036841728107586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S7QvGSHhGQI/AAAAAAAAEzk/YDitHhG53OU/s1600/blessing_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 154px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S7QvGSHhGQI/AAAAAAAAEzk/YDitHhG53OU/s200/blessing_1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455036833641601282" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S7QvF1_snaI/AAAAAAAAEzc/OsmQUlRSslQ/s1600/blessing2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 154px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S7QvF1_snaI/AAAAAAAAEzc/OsmQUlRSslQ/s200/blessing2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455036826092608930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I made these like a year ago thanks to &lt;a href="http://www.cathyzielske.typepad.com/"&gt;Cathy Z&lt;/a&gt; &amp; her &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Clean-Simple-Scrapbooking-Cathy-Zielske/dp/1933516194/ref=pd_cp_b_1"&gt;Clean &amp; Simple Scrapbooks CD&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;oh &amp; John's photoshop&lt;br /&gt;just about to get them printed since I forgot I did them and did a duplicate layout (by hand) for the blessing day one - oops&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-7400697137624496023?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/7400697137624496023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=7400697137624496023' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/7400697137624496023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/7400697137624496023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/03/digital-scrapbook-pages.html' title='Digital Scrapbook Pages'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S7QvIFZJ3mI/AAAAAAAAEz8/2WThakjS-Go/s72-c/saturday,feb12.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-6959650889430670380</id><published>2010-03-31T13:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-31T14:39:59.743-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='slice of life'/><title type='text'>Reflection on Slice of Life Challenge</title><content type='html'>As I've looked over my posts for this Slice of Life Challenge (which ends today) my main observation is that my life is composed of a lot of random thoughts amongst the mundaneness of every day routines.  Course that is the case for most slice people.  They don't have decorating blogs or product blogs.  Just blogs about their personal lives.  Half of the blogs I stalk are family/personal blogs of friends and relatives.  The other half are decorating or giveaway blogs. &lt;br /&gt;I also wonder the difference between a journal and a blog.  I write in my blog a lot more in my journal - perhaps because I enjoy the feed back.  But would I compose my darkest feelings and publish them on the world wide web?  Maybe.  But not on this blog (because this is a family blog)  &lt;br /&gt;It also made me wonder what would my ancestors have blogged about?  We don't have everyones journals - it seems just a few.  Would they have blogged about random things they saw or the mundane chores they had every day?  I can just hear my posts if I were a pioneer, for example:  "Today we walked 13 miles.  Didn't reach our goal of 15 and Buddy almost got bitten by a snake because he ran off the trail (for the hundredth time this week)."  Would it have been like that?&lt;br /&gt;Listening to &lt;a href="http://dogtrax.edublogs.org/2010/03/30/why-i-write-each-day-with-slice-of-life/"&gt;a podcast&lt;/a&gt; from a Slice of Life writer and his voice made me think what a treasure a blog post is and even a pod cast is because it records a piece of you on this world wide web but that it is also a piece of history for your posterity.  &lt;br /&gt;I love listening to my grandma's voice.  I came across a few tapes of her reading stories (that she would always read to us growing up) and what a treasure having her voice recorded is.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I'm glad I did this challenge - even though most posts were random or just about me (and not our family).  If anything, it made me record something every day and publish a slice of MY life for the world to see.&lt;br /&gt;And in stirivng to do better at journal writing, I just &lt;a href="https://www.chroniclebooks.com/index/main,book-info/store,books/products_id,8292/title,One-Line-a-Day-A-Five-Year-Memory-Book/"&gt;purchased&lt;/a&gt; a new journal &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;One Line a Day: A Five Year Journal&lt;a href="https://www.chroniclebooks.com/index/main,book-info/store,books/products_id,8292/title,One-Line-a-Day-A-Five-Year-Memory-Book/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.  Of course blank notebooks and journals are another purchasing addiction of mine but maybe once I start I'll feel pressure to finish.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-6959650889430670380?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/6959650889430670380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=6959650889430670380' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/6959650889430670380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/6959650889430670380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/03/reflection-on-slice-of-life-challenge.html' title='Reflection on Slice of Life Challenge'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-7393436293598791481</id><published>2010-03-30T12:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-30T13:06:39.722-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='slice of life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='complaining again'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><title type='text'>Rain &amp; Randomness</title><content type='html'>Doing the&lt;a href="http://twowritingteachers.wordpress.com/"&gt; Slice of Life&lt;/a&gt; challenge this month has made me realize that I rant about a lot of random things.  Today is no exception.&lt;br /&gt;It has been blustering, blowing, and raining since before I was woken up by it @ 2:30 this morning.  Then I heard Buddy wake up coughing and crying (poor guy, I hate colds).  &lt;br /&gt;It did stop briefly so I moseyed us out of the house to go to story time at the library - only to arrive 10 minutes late (like usual) and find that story time is cancelled this week.  Would it have killed anyone to tell us this last week when we were there?  So of course I felt stupid because Buddy didn't really want to go out and I definitely didn't want to go out but here we were  at the library again.  We read three stories, talked to some moms (yeah, I actually recognized and talked to people today even though I felt like a sluggish pile of bricks), grabbed a video (we didn't deceive ourselves into thinking we need some more stories to read when we have piles all over the house or that we would actually read any more new books today- we went straight for the easy entertainment - Sense and Sensibility for me &amp; Baby Einstein numbers for Buddy) and headed home.  &lt;br /&gt;I called my mom &amp; ranted about the suckiness that I feel is my life today, put in the video for Buddy, and then heated up leftover pizza for me &amp; macaroni for Buddy.  He actually ate (which is great because last night's dinner consisted of a bottle of milk - I couldn't even bribe him with treats.  He really must feel like crap). And then we watched Milo &amp; Otis while I put away dishes. &lt;br /&gt;Nap time came &amp; here I am - finishing the laundry I didn't finish yesterday, blog surfing, and blogging.&lt;br /&gt;Puddles are forming on/in my lawn, but the mysterious stench from last night has disappeared.  I guess I should count my blessings (those of which don't include: the fact I have to go for a quarterly check up tonight @ the doctors -which I think is utterly pointless and a waste of time and money for the whole company my husband works for and the fact that we are going to Happy Valley this weekend because John's parents are flying down there - which I hate because 1 - it's Happy Valley and 2 - I avoid traveling any where within a hour of downtown Salt Lake on &lt;a href="http://www.lds.org/ldsorg/v/index.jsp?vgnextoid=e419fb40e21cef00VgnVCM1000001f5e340aRCRD"&gt;General Conference&lt;/a&gt; weekend).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two more randomness thoughts from blog surfing before I go lay down:&lt;br /&gt;Have you ever known anyone &lt;a href="http://allbowerpower.wordpress.com/2010/03/30/ready-freddy-betty/"&gt;this prepared&lt;/a&gt; for their first baby?  I haven't even &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;decorated&lt;/span&gt; Buddy's room (and he's almost two).&lt;br /&gt;I bought an &lt;a href="http://www.easylunchboxes.com/"&gt;Easy School Lunch System&lt;/a&gt; today.  Even though it will be 3 or 4 years before Buddy takes school lunch.  It was on &lt;a href="http://www.jasmere.com/"&gt;sale&lt;/a&gt;.  Maybe John will use it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;you&lt;/span&gt; do when it's pouring outside (and sometimes in your life)?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-7393436293598791481?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/7393436293598791481/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=7393436293598791481' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/7393436293598791481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/7393436293598791481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/03/rain-randomness.html' title='Rain &amp; Randomness'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-3313727637859333159</id><published>2010-03-29T20:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-29T20:16:42.881-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='slice of life'/><title type='text'>A great day...until it stunk</title><content type='html'>Today was great.  We went to school town early so John could have lunch with one of his old professors and a collegue before one of John's last day of teaching.  He has been teaching as a adjunct and it's been a great experience.  So we went to Uncle Mikey's early and had lunch with him &amp; Ali.  Buddy took a great nap (except for the waking up part 30 minutes in - poor baby is sick with a stuffy head and it's been hard for him to sleep). Then we went to the park (and it wasn't &lt;a href="http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/03/didnt-think-id-ever-miss-foot-of-snow.html"&gt;disgusting&lt;/a&gt; this time) and spend a couple of hours there.  Back to Uncle Mikey's house for dinner (a French toast recipe you let soak in your fridge for 6-12 hours then bake in the oven ) and family home evening.  Mike shared his experience of Passover dinner and Easter week that he experienced while going to school in Jerusalem and Buddy watched UP.  &lt;br /&gt;Then we got home and for some mysterious reason our house stinks.  Well not our whole house, just the kitchen/dining room / living area.  I checked the windows downstairs and the whole basement seems (and smells) normal / fine.  But our house stinks upstairs.  &lt;br /&gt;So I've turned on the candle warmer in Buddy's bathroom and we're in our room with the &lt;a href="http://www.bathandbodyworks.com/product/index.jsp?productId=3841416&amp;CAWELAID=413492924"&gt;Scent Bug&lt;/a&gt; going and the door shut.&lt;br /&gt;The overhead fan is on in the kitchen so hopefully by the time we check on Buddy and go to bed it doesn't stink any more.&lt;br /&gt;Here's hoping!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-3313727637859333159?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/3313727637859333159/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=3313727637859333159' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/3313727637859333159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/3313727637859333159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/03/great-dayuntil-it-stunk.html' title='A great day...until it stunk'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-7336221635302317334</id><published>2010-03-28T12:13:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-28T12:17:31.636-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='slice of life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='motherhood'/><title type='text'>Good Night, Bad Night</title><content type='html'>Buddy had a great night Friday night.  He even let us sleep in until 8:30 !  It was wonderful.  Then on Saturday he took a 2 hour nap so I could clean the bathrooms and work on my lesson. I was in motherhood heaven (plus John cleaned all the floors during the nap so our house was awesome).&lt;br /&gt;Last night was complete opposite.  I didn't feel good - so woke up at 2:30.  Then between 2:30 and 7:30 Buddy woke up four times crying and screaming (and wouldn't be comforted). &lt;br /&gt;I didn't think he would last through church but he surprised me and did fine.  Now we are home and off for a (hopefully very long) nap.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-7336221635302317334?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/7336221635302317334/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=7336221635302317334' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/7336221635302317334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/7336221635302317334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/03/good-night-bad-night.html' title='Good Night, Bad Night'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-6328500732863469163</id><published>2010-03-27T12:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-27T20:19:57.329-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><title type='text'>Have you ever felt this way?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://livinglifetwice-alwrite.blogspot.com/2010/03/slice-of-life-those-autumn-leaves.html"&gt;http://livinglifetwice-alwrite.blogspot.com/2010/03/slice-of-life-those-autumn-leaves.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do - especially when I clean that weird dust that always appears in my bathroom.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-6328500732863469163?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/6328500732863469163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=6328500732863469163' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/6328500732863469163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/6328500732863469163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/03/have-you-ever-felt-this-way.html' title='Have you ever felt this way?'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-4841396607130848458</id><published>2010-03-27T12:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-27T12:50:34.420-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='slice of life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><title type='text'>The more you know</title><content type='html'>Did you know Wmart now sells bags of potatoes with the Toy Story characters on the plastic bag?  I guess if it will get kids to eat potatoes then great but I would just buy a pack of stickers and decorate my regular (but always Idaho) bag of potatoes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday when I got out of the store it was hailing.  Not snow but little balls of hail.  I guess every season has hail/snow here (yes one time in June I saw it snow).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I try to do my part in saving the environment or making my footprint not so huge by sorting and recycling.  But if the world ever runs out of paper towels then I am refusing to clean my toilet until they make some more - just so you know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If it's almost 50 degrees outside that gives little 13 year olds the permission to dress like prostitutes.  We were driving home from seeing the baby bears at a local promotion and we saw a group of 5 girls dressed in short booty shorts and short sleeve tight shirts walking down the street.  Maybe I'm getting old because I was SO appalled.  I guess when I have preteen girls I'll have to hire a conservative woman to make only pioneer / long dresses for them.  I'm sure my kids will love me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did you know chicken nuggets are made out of the chicken guts and bone marrow.  I watched the Jamie Oliver experiment last night and was grossed out.  But what did I buy a couple of hours before watching the show?  Hot dogs and chicken nuggets (some of Buddy's favorites).  And am I going to stop feeding him those (few) things that he likes to eat?  Nope.  John said his old coworker used to make her own chicken nuggets (by cutting and breading chicken breasts) but I don't want to - that's why they're so nice already made &amp; in the bag. I don't know what I'm going to do - it was really disgusting - I guess I'll just keep offering (and force feeding) him some good things and hope that balances out the bad (gross).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-4841396607130848458?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/4841396607130848458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=4841396607130848458' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/4841396607130848458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/4841396607130848458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/03/more-you-know.html' title='The more you know'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-5159930412852787999</id><published>2010-03-26T13:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-26T13:30:09.586-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='slice of life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><title type='text'>More than one is always more fun</title><content type='html'>Random numbers post today:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;# of blogs I follow: 51&lt;br /&gt;# of emails I have (and check at least weekly): 3&lt;br /&gt;# of blogs I post on (not comments, posts): 6 (although my extended family one hasn't been posted on in almost a year)&lt;br /&gt;# of "friends" (although most are related friends) I have on facebook: 74&lt;br /&gt;# of websites I check (or do stuff on) on a daily basis: 7 (I'm counting my google/blogger reader/dashboard as one site because it allows me to browse which of the blogs I follow that I actually want to take the time to read&lt;br /&gt;# of books on&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/1019706"&gt; goodreads&lt;/a&gt;: 471 (over half are "to read")&lt;br /&gt;# of audio books I have checked out as of today: 7 (I returned one because I uploaded it to my ipod)&lt;br /&gt;# of books I have checked out: 3 (all of which are nonfiction - perhaps why it's taking me a little longer to read them)&lt;br /&gt;# of TV shows I watch online (I rarely take the time to watch live TV, I like to watch on my own schedule and watch 2 or 3 episodes in a row): &lt;br /&gt;# of times I've worked out since I moved here in August: 1 (if I count the extreme walk I went on once, the rest of the walks were less than a mile)&lt;br /&gt;# of days until it reaches 70 degrees here:  ?  wish that were zero but I don't know, it could be months yet  :(&lt;br /&gt;# of movies I've watched in the theater in the last two years: 3 (I think - last one was Alice in Wonderland while on Spring Break).&lt;br /&gt;# of days until I stop posting EVERY day: five (although I have enjoyed &lt;a href="http://twowritingteachers.wordpress.com/"&gt;this exercise&lt;/a&gt; and plan on doing it next year)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-5159930412852787999?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/5159930412852787999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=5159930412852787999' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/5159930412852787999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/5159930412852787999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/03/more-than-one-is-always-more-fun.html' title='More than one is always more fun'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-2153759888232468995</id><published>2010-03-25T12:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-25T13:10:48.220-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='slice of life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='motherhood'/><title type='text'>First Day Observations in a New Experiment</title><content type='html'>Today is my first day of a new experiment: being a mother of two.  No, I haven't had another quite yet.  We're going to watch a baby once (or twice) a week and see how it goes.    &lt;br /&gt;Buddy was ok with Baby.  He, of course, wanted his blanket and a bottle of milk when the baby got one.  And there was a time where Buddy was covering his ears (while Baby was crying).  When Baby went down for his morning nap, Buddy was concerned that he couldn't find Baby until I showed him that Baby was sleeping in the crib.  Baby didn't sleep long - he's not used to the noise level that exists here in our house.  &lt;br /&gt;I have forgotten how much I longed for an extra hand when Buddy was an infant.  I think that we should be able to grow an extra arm and hand and then it goes away when not in use.  Luckily Mike came by (after a subbing job) around lunch and got Buddy to eat some more (since Baby decided he was hungry at the same time Buddy's mac &amp; cheese was ready).  &lt;br /&gt;I also forgot how loud a baby's poop is.  He had two explosion sounds and I thought for sure we would have a blow out but no, there was just a yellow goo in the diaper.  Buddy didn't want to feel left out and his diaper was WAY worse than Baby's.  (I can' believe I'm blogging about poop - I guess I'm officially a mom).&lt;br /&gt;But both are down now and we've reached a half-way point for the day.  I haven't done anything except make my bed, do the dishes, care for the kids, eat a quick bowl of noodles, and now blog.  But who says moms have to be productive?  Dinner is soup that I made, then froze - so that's taken care of.  Maybe I'll go do some chores now or maybe I'll sneak in a chapter of two of my book.  &lt;br /&gt;Until tomorrow.... :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-2153759888232468995?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/2153759888232468995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=2153759888232468995' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/2153759888232468995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/2153759888232468995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/03/first-day-observations-in-new.html' title='First Day Observations in a New Experiment'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-3539159085235172733</id><published>2010-03-24T09:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-24T09:37:18.481-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='slice of life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='motherhood'/><title type='text'>Time Change</title><content type='html'>I missed the joy of the actual time change last week because I went on vacation.  I guess Buddy slept until 9 some mornings.  That is not the case any more.  He is waking up every morning at 7:30.  I guess it could be worse but I thought we had him trained to sleep until 8 and with the time change that would be 9 now.  I decided I'm not a good mom until 8 so this morning when he woke up before 7:30, I stumbled in and gave him a bottle and told him it was too early for mom to get up.  He didn't really understand (and started whinning to tell me so) but I put in my earplugs and went back to bed until 8.  After that extra bit of sleep I was ok to get ready for the day.  An extra half and hour does make a huge differrence in my day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-3539159085235172733?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/3539159085235172733/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=3539159085235172733' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/3539159085235172733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/3539159085235172733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/03/time-change.html' title='Time Change'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-791939849265036287</id><published>2010-03-23T08:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-23T12:27:14.636-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='slice of life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='advice'/><title type='text'>Redoing Ricks</title><content type='html'>My cousin is coming up tonight to check out the local college.  It made me think a little about my time in college.  &lt;br /&gt;For my Associates Degree I went to Ricks College (yes, it was Ricks then- BYU-Idaho wasn't on the diplomas until the semester after I got my A.A.S.).  I went there basically alone.  All my friends went to Idaho State or Utah State.  I did have my grandma close by which was a great blessing when I got mono (and strep at the same time) from my dish-soap-phobic roommate.  Also Sunday dinners at grandmas were a wonderful way to recharge for the week.  I had a wonderful time, especially after I got involved in New Student Orientation.  &lt;br /&gt;Seeing my little sister prepare for college made me think of things I would do differently if I Redid my time at Ricks (this is also assuming I went back in time and was young again).  &lt;br /&gt;I would still live in the dorms my first year.  I wouldn't, however, live in that cold basement apartment my second year.  I don't know where I would live but not in the basement apartment (that I did see a hobo spider in).  &lt;br /&gt;I would get involved with new student orientation or some other organization earlier.  I loved my time with new student orientation and it helped me meet so many different people and feel like I made a difference.  I only regret that I didn't stay involved during my last semester.&lt;br /&gt;I wouldn't be so self-centered (especially once I met John).  My world after my engagement basically consisted of spending all my time with him (when he wasn't buried in the school yearbook office).  I would be nicer to my roommates (well not the ones from Ohio) and do more things with them.&lt;br /&gt;I wouldn't major in pre-dental hygiene.  I would still minor in English - and would probably take more literature and writing classes (but is there a class that focuses on writing and not grammar rules?  I hate rules.).  I would go into social work.  (Of course I didn't know what a blessing social workers were until we had Faith - in 2004 - and experienced their kindness at Primary Children's.) &lt;br /&gt;I would go to Europe (with the English department) and not get married until August.  It's funny, the two times I've planned on traveling to Europe I've had major life changes get in the way. The first time I got engaged and we decided to get married in June.  The second time I got pregnant with little Buddy (and would have been 7 or 8 months along during the tour time).&lt;br /&gt;And finally, I think I would have taken more Communications courses.  The first (and only) one I took was my last semester.  I really enjoyed it.  And maybe some of the course material would have rubbed off on me more and I would be a better communicator/speaker/teacher.&lt;br /&gt;So - to sum it up:  If you're going to college make sure you: get involved and stay involved in student organization, explore more fields of work  while taking your general classes, travel abroad (if that's your thing) don't live in a cold basement apartment (even though it seems like a good idea - convince your friends / old roommates to move somewhere above ground), and keep developing (and looking for )friendships even if you become &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mf4v4Yunm4s"&gt;twitterpated&lt;/a&gt;.  Oh - and enjoy the journey.  Pretty soon it will all be over.&lt;br /&gt;Anyone else have some advice for those going to embarking on college this year?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-791939849265036287?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/791939849265036287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=791939849265036287' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/791939849265036287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/791939849265036287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/03/redoing-ricks.html' title='Redoing Ricks'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-2995452628191662595</id><published>2010-03-22T16:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-22T16:06:02.085-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='slice of life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='recipes'/><title type='text'>Awesome Cake Cookie Recipe</title><content type='html'>Regular cake mix (any kind - today my brother made Fun Fetti)&lt;br /&gt;1/2 cup oil&lt;br /&gt;2 eggs&lt;br /&gt;Mix then scoop out like cookies on ungreased cookie sheet&lt;br /&gt;375 degrees for 8-10 minutes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yummy!&lt;br /&gt;I am unsure what else to post today.  I'm definitely experiencing post-vacation sadness.  I don't want to do anything but sleep in my warm bed.  It seriously snowed / hailed today.  I miss St. George.  I will post more about my trip tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-2995452628191662595?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/2995452628191662595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=2995452628191662595' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/2995452628191662595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/2995452628191662595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/03/awesome-cake-cookie-recipe.html' title='Awesome Cake Cookie Recipe'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-4260977360009839534</id><published>2010-03-21T18:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-21T18:36:40.563-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='slice of life'/><title type='text'>Home Again!</title><content type='html'>It's nice to be on vacation but it's always nice to come home.  It would be nicer if:  my house was clean for company that is coming tonight, we had the 68-74 degree temperatures that we had in St. George here where I live, my son didn't just bite me five minutes ago, and if my husband's iphone stopped the capacity to carry games.  But if wishes were fishes - we'd all have a fry.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love being in my nice, comfortable bed.  I love the way Buddy occasionally gives me a hug for no reason (and no - he isn't being too clingy, but he keeps asking for grandma).  I love the back rubs I got last night and before my (traditional) Sunday nap this afternoon.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It will be a challenge for me to blog this week - I have another lovely lesson to prepare for church.  It is so hard for me to do lessons because 1) I hate standing / talking in front of people 2) my class lacks participation 3) I struggle feeling qualified to teach.  But life will go on - whether I do a good job or fall on my face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The company is 10 minutes away - got to go.  :)  Post at you tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-4260977360009839534?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/4260977360009839534/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=4260977360009839534' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/4260977360009839534'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/4260977360009839534'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/03/home-again.html' title='Home Again!'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-847555527855039459</id><published>2010-03-20T08:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-20T08:00:01.739-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='slice of life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><title type='text'>Road trip?</title><content type='html'>I just read Real Simple magazine.  I always come away from reading that magazine with a ton of things to check out.  I guess that's why they have a bookmark with blank lines on it so you can those things down.  I came across an awesome website if you travel a lot by car - &lt;a href="http://www.roadsideamerica.com"&gt;Roadside America&lt;/a&gt;.  Plus it's also interesting to see if there are any bizzare local attractions you don't know about.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-847555527855039459?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/847555527855039459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=847555527855039459' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/847555527855039459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/847555527855039459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/03/road-trip.html' title='Road trip?'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-1626216210962929029</id><published>2010-03-19T08:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-19T08:00:05.387-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='slice of life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><title type='text'>All Armpits are UGLY!</title><content type='html'>Went formal dress shopping the other day with my mom, my sister in law, and my baby sister.  I can't believe that Kim is old enough to go to her senior prom.  And she's so smart too - she got so many scholarships and got into ALL the colleges she applied for.  I guess everyone does grow up - quicker than one realizes, especially if you don't see them every day.  &lt;br /&gt;It was amazing to see the different styles and imagine people actually wearing some of the dresses to their prom.  One was a dalmatian dress - white with black spots and a red belt.  Probably something Cruela Devil would wear if she was a teenager.  &lt;br /&gt;I personally would choose the bright - past neon- yellow dress in the window of the shop.  It was "so pretty" as Ali would say and SO poofy.  &lt;br /&gt;Ali and I also looked as the women tried on their bridal dresses and became quite critiques.  We also found a beautiful dress for Ali, for if she gets remarried to Mike (LOL).&lt;br /&gt;Kim found a couple to try on, and the owner of the shop was helping everyone that day with suggestions of alterations to make their dresses fit better.  My sister was concerned because she couldn't lift her arms in a dress (hey, it's her prom.  She wants to be semi comfortable and be able to dance, right?).  The owner said "well you don't want to show off your armpits.  All armpits are UGLY!  If you want to be able to move your arms more, you should consider a sleeveless dress."  &lt;br /&gt;Well - I learned something new - all armpits are UGLY.  I knew they were a pain to shave and that they stink if you don't put on enough deodorant, but I didn't know they were UGLY.  &lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, she thinks she found the dress.  Despite the price tag - it is beautiful and looks beautiful on her.  &lt;br /&gt;She's a little worried about purchasing a dress, not having a date yet but I told her the same thing happened to me.  I didn't have a date until the Monday before prom (and I think my date might have been bribed by a teacher to ask me, but whatever).  At least I got to go.  And I think that Kim has enough friends (who have graduated) that she could convince them to return to the loveliness that is high school for one night, just so she could experience her senior prom.  If not, she could always promenade with Buddy - he is a good walker (if you can slow him down and get him not to run).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-1626216210962929029?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/1626216210962929029/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=1626216210962929029' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/1626216210962929029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/1626216210962929029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/03/all-armpits-are-ugly.html' title='All Armpits are UGLY!'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-1010881371539513155</id><published>2010-03-18T08:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-18T08:18:50.638-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='slice of life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='motherhood'/><title type='text'>TWO!</title><content type='html'>Buddy is so cute and such a stinker at the same time.  Although I'm on vacation, I've &lt;a href="http://www.skype.com/"&gt;Skyped&lt;/a&gt; with him four times since I left.  &lt;br /&gt;Pretty much he ignores me or wants to watch YouTube instead of Skyping.  He'll run away and go play with his cars while I talk to John and when John made him (by bringing him over to the computer and holding him there) say goodbye - all it was was screaming.  &lt;br /&gt;The day John's mom got there he kept saying grandma and when he saw that my mom was with me and John asked him how many grandmas he had he energetically said "TWO!  Two Two Two"  It was really cute.  When we are counting he only counts by saying "Two" not one or three or any other number - just "two".  Maybe because he will be two soon - so he's practicing for when people ask him how old he is.  I don't know :)&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday he would say "Bye Bye" and Kim, Mom &amp; I would say "No No No" and shake our heads.  He thought that was hillarious so he did it about a dozen times.&lt;br /&gt;He is cute but I'm sure when I get back he won't let me out of his site.  That's ok, I'll enjoy the suffocation for a day or two and then need another vacation.  ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-1010881371539513155?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/1010881371539513155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=1010881371539513155' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/1010881371539513155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/1010881371539513155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/03/two.html' title='TWO!'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-3937282706957919760</id><published>2010-03-17T09:18:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-17T09:18:29.969-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='slice of life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><title type='text'>It's easy being green</title><content type='html'>We didn’t really celebrate St. Patrick’s day growing up.  Oh, of course we wore green in lieu of being pinched to death (I think one year I forgot and promptly changed after my brother pinching me at the breakfast table).  &lt;br /&gt;Since I’ve been married, we celebrate a little more.  No – no green beer drinking.  But John makes sure that we eat corned beef and cabbage (if not the night of St. Patrick’s Day, then some time that week).  Being married has also brought a little more Irish into my life in the form of our dear Grandpa McCarty.  He is such a sweet man and always makes me blush with his complements (on my beauty or how lucky John is to have me in his life).  For the McCarty family reunion John spent hours making a traditional Irish knot in the shape of an M for our shirts.  It turned out really cool and John’s uncle even used his plotting machine to get it engraved on a wood plaque.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I love corned beef and cabbage (oh – especially the cabbage – steamed just the right amount with butter and salt and pepper) and getting to be a part of the McCarty clan!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-3937282706957919760?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/3937282706957919760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=3937282706957919760' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/3937282706957919760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/3937282706957919760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/03/its-easy-being-green.html' title='It&apos;s easy being green'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-5961794041651930851</id><published>2010-03-16T08:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-16T08:00:05.787-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='slice of life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><title type='text'>We go together like peanut butter and .....</title><content type='html'>Sometimes John is as random as I am.  Like the other day he sent me this e-mail:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;subject: awesome Kiddie table!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Message: &lt;br /&gt;it extends when you need it bigger or taller.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.dasmoebel.at/moebel/shop/kinder/0802OSC003&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;too bad it's in german.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder - aren't you supposed to be working?  how did you get to this site?  do you want me to search for something like this for our house?  (usually the answer is "no I just thought it was cool")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But usually my reply (if I bother to send one) is something like "that IS neat".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Random but neat.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-5961794041651930851?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/5961794041651930851/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=5961794041651930851' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/5961794041651930851'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/5961794041651930851'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/03/we-go-together-like-peanut-butter-and.html' title='We go together like peanut butter and .....'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-2399796425958350083</id><published>2010-03-15T08:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-15T08:00:02.047-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='slice of life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><title type='text'>If Nutrition was out the window:</title><content type='html'>I would eat out every day.  For some reason even the salads at fast food joints taste better than when I make them.  Probably because I don't have to clean up after the mess or shop for the stuff (I hate HATE hate grocery shopping).&lt;br /&gt;Buddy would eat hot dogs ("gagogs" as he calls them), juice (we splurge and give him the V8 fusion so he at least gets some veggies as well as fruit juice and sugar), and treats (which can range from anything like "coo coo" 's - cookies to raisins or "eees" to fruit snacks or "elephant noise" - because our fruit snacks are the generic from Sam's and have an elephant on the front each package).&lt;br /&gt;John would eat bacon and hamburgers with bacon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-2399796425958350083?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/2399796425958350083/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=2399796425958350083' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/2399796425958350083'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/2399796425958350083'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/03/if-nutrition-was-out-window.html' title='If Nutrition was out the window:'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-8195237578160661652</id><published>2010-03-14T08:00:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-14T08:00:01.249-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='slice of life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='motherhood'/><title type='text'>Tears</title><content type='html'>but when I left last night, I was in tears.  Buddy was watching "Leah" (Signing Time - one of his favorites.  He thinks all little girls with brown hair are named Leah now).  I know he'll be ok, I just hope that he'll forgive me.  And not think I'm "gone" (he does this with his hands palms up and shrugs his shoulders) for good.&lt;br /&gt;It will be fun (and nice to sleep in a couple of days and catch up on the four books I brought). But everything reminds me of my little Buddy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-8195237578160661652?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/8195237578160661652/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=8195237578160661652' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/8195237578160661652'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/8195237578160661652'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/03/tears.html' title='Tears'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-6649940408903623659</id><published>2010-03-13T08:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-13T08:00:01.235-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='slice of life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='motherhood'/><title type='text'>It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year</title><content type='html'>Maybe I'm a bad mom but I am SO excited for this up coming week.  I am going on spring break (insert Joey saying woo hooo here) with my little sister and leaving Buddy (aka the Raptor) and John behind (only because John has to work otherwise I'd let him escape reality with me).  I have a bunch of books packed (audio &amp; regular - it's going to be a long drive) and I'm bringing my swimsuit (although the weather there hasn't been too warm - it's still warmer than here &amp; there is a pool).  It is just what a need - a break from reality (and motherhood) - to recharge my batteries.  &lt;br /&gt;Last year John &amp; I went to Ecuador in January and left Buddy with my mom.  It was an amazing trip and Buddy cut his first three teeth while we were gone.  &lt;br /&gt;This year my mother-in-law is coming to our house to watch Buddy. I think it will be a great bonding time and John will still be here at night so I think Buddy will be fine.   I have an awesome hubby (&amp; wonderful mother-in-law) - thanks (in advance) for watching him.&lt;br /&gt;I've decided that I need to take a Buddy-free vacation every year.  Makes me appreciate him more and lets me do some mommy-free activities (I'm especially looking forward to sleeping in).  Next year - we'll go international again (like Paris or Hawaii) - who's in?   Start saving now.  Oh - a cruise would be awesome too.  Let's do a cruise.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-6649940408903623659?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/6649940408903623659/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=6649940408903623659' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/6649940408903623659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/6649940408903623659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/03/its-most-wonderful-time-of-year.html' title='It&apos;s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-3004595350311321760</id><published>2010-03-12T11:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-12T11:38:52.276-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='slice of life'/><title type='text'>I found it!</title><content type='html'>Today has been awesome.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Buddy woke up earlier than usual and I actually got up earlier than usual so we were ready and at the play gym by 9:30.  He had a great time - he discovered how awesome frisbees can be if you throw them and they land on their side and they roll a couple more feet.  That entertained him for probably 20 minutes of the 1 1/2 hours we were there.  I felt bad because my phone camera just isn't fast enough to capture him in his activities.  I'll have to bring a video camera next time I bring him (which will probably be the last time of the season -they only have toddler open gym from January to the end March @ our rec center) to capture his energy.  I find it amusing that we pay (it's only $1 a visit) to go to a place where his main fascination is the balls.  Like we don't have in balls at our house or something.  But it's wonderful for him to be able to run around and not have to worry about the weather (only big kids pushing him - but he tries to stay away from the ones that are really crazy and running around screaming).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we went to our car (parked by the river) and I got out the stale crackers (that I forgot last week) and we fed the ducks.  Even when the loud geese came Buddy wasn't scared.  We saw two squirrels (and since he's recently been fascinated with Donald Duck and Chip and Dale cartoons) he thought that was awesome.  So we spent about 25 minutes out there feeding them some old crackers (that I didn't realize were VERY stale until I offered one to my brother last month and almost killed him when he put it in his mouth).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I put Buddy in the car and glanced something out of the corner of my eye.  My old gym card!!&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S5qXqF6Kw2I/AAAAAAAAEvw/Kh1zF9AUVuQ/s1600-h/Photo+27.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S5qXqF6Kw2I/AAAAAAAAEvw/Kh1zF9AUVuQ/s200/Photo+27.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5447833448654488418" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before you Judge me, I promise that I have cleaned (including vacuumed) my car at least twice in the period in between losing the card and today.  I had lost it probably two or three months before we moved (so probably around June).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me tell you why I am so excited to have this in my possession again.  First, it has a copy of my very old drivers license on it.  The license I got on September 11, 2001.  I thought it was a good piece of history for my kids to know where I was and what I was doing on that very tragic day in our countries history.  Second, it is a wonderful reminder of all those times I actually got off my butt and went to the gym.  And a wonderful reminder of the friendships I developed there (yeah you - Michelle &amp; Debbie) as well as a reminder of the humor we found there (spandex lady, all the "couples" hooking up / checking each other out, water aerobics, how silly I looked trying to do step class or that class with all the dance moves).&lt;br /&gt;So I'm very glad to have my gym card back.  And although I miss, probably more than anything in SL, working out with my friends; it is also a reminder that I &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;can&lt;/span&gt; be healthy and workout 3-4 times a week. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S.  I whited out my name and old address on purpose people:  internet safety - never forget about the crazies out there surfin the web.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-3004595350311321760?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/3004595350311321760/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=3004595350311321760' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/3004595350311321760'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/3004595350311321760'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/03/i-found-it.html' title='I found it!'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S5qXqF6Kw2I/AAAAAAAAEvw/Kh1zF9AUVuQ/s72-c/Photo+27.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-7451536301670080665</id><published>2010-03-11T12:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-11T12:36:09.214-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='slice of life'/><title type='text'>Objects of Affection</title><content type='html'>I took this idea from Margaret Mason's book &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/222636.No_One_Cares_What_You_Had_for_Lunch_100_Ideas_for_Your_Blog"&gt;No One Cares What you Had for Lunch&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt; because today I am just Blogging to &lt;a href="http://twowritingteachers.wordpress.com/"&gt;Blog&lt;/a&gt;.  I've reached a creative block today&lt;br /&gt;In a fire, after all the people &amp; pets are out of your house what would you grab?  I would grab:&lt;br /&gt;1.   Faith's scrapbook (which is still - after six years - missing about 6 layouts I need to complete).  I've used her scrapbook as a purpose for retail therapy (a way to cope with mourning).  Once it's complete I plan on scanning in all the pages &amp; putting it on a dvd or cd - storing it in two seperate fire safes (one at our house &amp; one @ my parents) and maybe (if I feel like it's still "not done") sending the pages to Heritage makers &amp; getting it made into a &lt;a href="http://www.heritagemakers.com/shop/storybooks/index.cfm"&gt;real book&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;2.  My laptop.  I heart my &lt;a href="http://www.apple.com/macbook/"&gt;macbook&lt;/a&gt; and they don't make them in black any more - so mine is precious to me.  I use it every day as a link to the world outside my toddler-run house.&lt;br /&gt;3.  John's dying laptop.  It has his projects (which mean $) on it and although he's needed to replace it for about 3 years - he keeps waiting until mac incorportates something (I can't remember - probably because I just hear it as another excuse).&lt;br /&gt;4.  Buddy's blankie &amp; puppy.  This is assuming that we didn't grab them when we grabbed him - to escape the fire.  He loves the soft quilters (?) binding on his blanket.  As long as "Puppy" (yes that's his name - we're very creative) is with us - no matter where we are - it's an ok place to be.&lt;br /&gt;5.  My Faithy picture.  It has a picture of her as well as an additional verse to &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BjnheAUlBy0"&gt;I am a Child of God&lt;/a&gt;.  I'll have to post a picture of it some other day.  It has a beautiful frame as well.&lt;br /&gt;6.  My car.  Well I would drive it out of the garage.  We have a little first aid kit, some diapers, and a couple of cereal bars in there.  I figure we could use it to store our stuff (that we save) in as well as use it to travel to my grandma's house (where we would probably sleep if we lost everything).&lt;br /&gt;7.  Deoderant,  a change of clothes for each of us, and Buddy's diaper bag.  Pretty self-explanatory .&lt;br /&gt;Seven (well more if you count each item #7) things.  That's not too bad - if I do say so myself.  &lt;br /&gt;What would you save?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-7451536301670080665?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/7451536301670080665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=7451536301670080665' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/7451536301670080665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/7451536301670080665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/03/objects-of-affection.html' title='Objects of Affection'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-8045659187144053868</id><published>2010-03-10T10:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-10T19:35:48.004-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='slice of life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='from Buddy'/><title type='text'>A few of my favorite things</title><content type='html'>Cartoons on YouTube about doggies or kittens&lt;br /&gt;going outside - even if I have to wear mittens&lt;br /&gt;Bright colored books and shoes without strings&lt;br /&gt;these are a few of my favorite things.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Acting like a pony or  drawing some doodles&lt;br /&gt;Rasins and juice and hotdogs with noodles&lt;br /&gt;Playing in nursery and learning to sing &lt;br /&gt;these are a few of my favorite things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blankie, cars, or any sport with a ball&lt;br /&gt;I also like running - especially down the hall&lt;br /&gt;Seeing my family and all the love that they bring&lt;br /&gt;these are a few of my favorite things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When in time out&lt;br /&gt;Or when Mom yells&lt;br /&gt;When I'm feeling sad&lt;br /&gt;I simply remember my favorite things&lt;br /&gt;and then I don't feel so bad.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-8045659187144053868?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/8045659187144053868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=8045659187144053868' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/8045659187144053868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/8045659187144053868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/03/few-of-my-favorite-things.html' title='A few of my favorite things'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-7128116127714417754</id><published>2010-03-09T07:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-09T07:00:04.737-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='slice of life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='motherhood'/><title type='text'>Didn't think I'd ever miss the foot of snow on the ground</title><content type='html'>Went to Arctic Circle today to visit their play area.  Didn't plan on going there but after we went to the park, I decided the $1 rootbeer float was worth it.  &lt;br /&gt;It's true that you don't know what you've got until it's gone.  I've been complaining and moaning all winter because it's cold and it's snowy here.  We went to the park last week and made sure to wear our boots because of the snow everywhere.  But it was actually kind of nice because there wasn't the usual bitter-cold wind and the snow was solid / hard (not the kind you sink into or the powdery mess) and it wasn't on the play structures - just all around it.  Like a white, hard play mat.&lt;br /&gt;Well today we went and the warmer temperatures have made the white play mat transform into a lake of bark.  The grassy area (which was the same hard snow with a little path where people had trudged through it) had been transformed into a marshy, muddy, gloop with trash &amp; decomposing leaves everywhere.  I drew the line when I saw a squirel at the base of a tree.  Well it was the squirell head/front (the little paws poised like it was ready to climb) and the squirell tail - the rest was missing / decomposing.  ewwwwwwwwwwwwww&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, Buddy wasn't thrilled about leaving the (nasty) park and it took some major coaxing on my part.  Once we got to the fast food play area, it was a much better afternoon.  Plus the rootbeer float was a nice treat.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-7128116127714417754?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/7128116127714417754/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=7128116127714417754' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/7128116127714417754'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/7128116127714417754'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/03/didnt-think-id-ever-miss-foot-of-snow.html' title='Didn&apos;t think I&apos;d ever miss the foot of snow on the ground'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-7562836919323792676</id><published>2010-03-08T13:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-08T13:46:44.812-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='slice of life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><title type='text'>Blog surfing across the universe.....</title><content type='html'>Did I already do a post on this?  I can't remember.  I could look it up but that would be too much work.  Maybe I should stop giving a Slice of Life because my slice of life is boring and repetitive and (do you think) clogging my blog?  Well at least more people are reading it.  &lt;br /&gt;Blog surfing again today off of my blogger/google/whatever-its-called reader.  Went from &lt;a href="http://cathyzielske.typepad.com/my_weblog/"&gt;Cathy Z&lt;/a&gt;'s site &amp; found &lt;a href="http://www.mcsweeneys.net/links/lists/"&gt;McSweeney&lt;/a&gt;'s.  Pretty funny stuff.  I especially appreciate the &lt;a href="http://www.mcsweeneys.net/links/openletters"&gt;Open Letter&lt;/a&gt; section.  I've done that before.  I find it therapeutic &amp; fun.  &lt;br /&gt;Friday I found that blog surfing - or crawling (I prefer surfing) is becoming an actual &lt;a href="http://jillibeansoup.typepad.com/my_weblog/2010/03/good-morning-blog-crawl-participants.html"&gt;event&lt;/a&gt;.  Weird but I participated.  Mainly because I was bored and the books I'm reading (or the books that are on my shelves) aren't really grabbing my attention (probably because a lot of them are non-fiction).  But it paid off - I won a cute &lt;a href="http://jillibeansoup.typepad.com/my_weblog/2010/03/blog-crawl-goodies-comment-here-too.html"&gt;homemade basket with candy&lt;/a&gt;.  It will probably cost more for her to ship it to me than it did for the materials - but hey - it's free for me and a cute decoration for my house.  &lt;br /&gt;I don't really do holiday decor (except of course Christmas).  I don't know why- most of the stuff just isn't my style. And I don't really have a place in my house to display it (except on my kitchen counter). &lt;br /&gt;Well off to read my brother's statement of purpose (for grad school - although maybe I should make one) and then to "your two year old:  terrible or tender".  LOL&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-7562836919323792676?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/7562836919323792676/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=7562836919323792676' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/7562836919323792676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/7562836919323792676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/03/blog-surfing-across-universe.html' title='Blog surfing across the universe.....'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-7457905097453861991</id><published>2010-03-07T16:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-07T18:54:10.491-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='slice of life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='review'/><title type='text'>No substitute</title><content type='html'>For those who know me, they all know I love Mexican food.  I'm not sure if &lt;a href="http://www.caferio.com/"&gt;Cafe Rio&lt;/a&gt; falls strictly into the Mexican food genre - but it has to be one of my all time favorite chains.  When I was pregnant and John was doing his internship 4 hours away (and would come home to spend weekends with me since I was still working), he would pick up a delicious burrito from the nearest Cafe Rio (3 hours and 40 minutes away from our house) and call me to preheat the oven when he got close enough.  One time, when the server heard he was taking it that far, they almost didn't let him have it.  But the cravings of a pregnant women were stronger than my worry for food poisoning (plus it's not like I didn't reheat it before I ate it).  &lt;br /&gt;The basic concept is a burrito filled with lime flavored rice, black or pinto beans, and steak, chicken or a sweet pulled pork.  You can also get salads with their amazing dressing (which is a ranch with lime &amp; some other stuff - called tomatillo sauce).  Their tortillas are homemade - right in front of you.  There are other things on the menu but these are the two favorites. &lt;br /&gt;There are a few imitation Cafe Rio's around. &lt;a href="http://www.costavida.net/"&gt;Costa Vida&lt;/a&gt; is the closest recipes to Cafe Rio.  Rumor has it that the original Cafe Rio had two partners and they split - one still runs Cafe Rio and the other started Costa Vida (with a variation on the original recipe - a little more sweeter in my opinion).  There is also a place called &lt;a href="http://www.bajiogrill.com/"&gt;Bajio Grill&lt;/a&gt; - which became really popular in Rexburg, only because most students had never tasted how good Cafe Rio was.  Both John &amp; I have only been there twice &amp; call it "Blahio" - their recipes are WAY too sweet (to the point that I was sick when I finished).  John's cousin made homemade Cafe Rio with a recipe on the web but it sounded way too time consuming for me.  &lt;br /&gt;Luckily, Cafe Rio has chains all over Utah and Idaho now with some in Nevada and I think California.  The closest one is 5 minutes to our house - so my craving has been satisfied.  Last night, when John got to choose where we went out - he suggested Cafe Rio and I was a little hesitant.The last six months or so, Cafe Rio hasn't been first on my list when we choose a place to eat out.  Maybe I overdosed, I don't know.   So I decided to try something new (usually he gets the salad and I get the pork burrito).  The fried shrimp taco did not disappoint.  There was a lot more shrimp pieces than I expected and it was freshly fried- yum!  Maybe I would have put more tomatillo dressing on it, but I stole some of John's from his salad - so I was ok.  They also noticed we had Buddy with us and said that a kids quesadilla is always free.  Awesome!  He only ate a few bites (typical for Buddy) and then we had to coax a few more bites of beans into him (with a various bribe for each bite).  &lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I should try something new (well the shrimp taco was new) more often - I really liked it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-7457905097453861991?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/7457905097453861991/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=7457905097453861991' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/7457905097453861991'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/7457905097453861991'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/03/no-substitute.html' title='No substitute'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-6479911262225321835</id><published>2010-03-06T07:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-06T07:00:00.944-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='slice of life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenthood'/><title type='text'>Introduction to Parents as Teachers Program</title><content type='html'>Thursday was our first day at school - in the &lt;a href="http://www.parentsasteachers.org/site/pp.asp?c=ekIRLcMZJxE&amp;b=272091"&gt;Parents as Teachers Program&lt;/a&gt;.  I first heard about this program at play group.  The host mom was lucky enough to sign up four years ago right after her first son was born.  So every month she has a teacher from this program come to her house and spend an hour with her sons.  Since the wait list has become so long, they have adjusted the program a little bit and anyone can bring their child (under kindergarten age) to the local elementary on the first Thursday of the month to attend an open house of sorts any time from 9-2.  &lt;br /&gt;I got directions off of the Internet for H. high school (when I meant to get it for H. elementary).  I think it's because I've had H high school on my mind because of the Pepsi Refresh Everything contest which I've been voting for our high school to get a new computer lab.  Anyway - in looking for H. elementary with H. high school directions - obviously I needed to call my GPS - John &amp; then my mom.  &lt;br /&gt;Finally got there - 30 minutes AFTER I planned on being there.  Buddy was getting tired &amp; hungry.  But we had a good time.  &lt;br /&gt;This month was practicing on motor skills.  He hammered golf tees into a piece of styrofoam (and then tried to eat a tiny piece of styrofoam).  Then he had his first experience with play doh.  Again he tried to eat a piece - then made "staas" (stars) with the cookie cutter.  Meanwhile, I got a bunch of pamphlets with activities we can do together and how I can help him develop his vocabulary better.  Since it was our first time we got a book that we get to keep - I chose a cloth book with Jungle animals - insert elephant sound here :) By then all the other kids had left &amp; Buddy had found a ball (and was ready to leave with it).  Every month we also get to check out a bag of books - and these books are in great condition.  Unlike the library ones - you can hardly tell these have been read.  We are still on the waiting list and with three years to go - maybe we'll make it to personal visits (if more funding doesn't get cut).   &lt;br /&gt;Anyway, it was a good experience.  I think next time we'll have an early nap and go in the afternoon and  I'll know how to get there - so it will be less stressful.  I encourage everyone that has little ones to check the &lt;a href="http://www.parentsasteachers.org/site/pp.asp?c=ekIRLcMZJxE&amp;b=272091"&gt;Parents as Teachers&lt;/a&gt; program out in your area - every little bit helps when it comes to teaching our kids.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-6479911262225321835?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/6479911262225321835/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=6479911262225321835' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/6479911262225321835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/6479911262225321835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/03/introduction-to-parents-as-teachers.html' title='Introduction to Parents as Teachers Program'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-7591344933492621126</id><published>2010-03-05T07:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-05T07:28:55.760-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='slice of life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friday confessional'/><title type='text'>Friday Confessional</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://glamazonmormonmom.blogspot.com/2010/01/friday-confessional-yall-join-in.html"&gt;&lt;img src=" http://i735.photobucket.com/albums/ww358/treasurehatch/Glamazonwithjewels-1-1.png " /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  1.  I have gone weeks at a time without watching or reading any news - sometimes it is just depressing and since we only get local channels - the national news is on during dinner time. (Yesterday on the 10:00 p.m. local news the feature story was about someone pulling out a gun on a police officer at a typical traffic stop - yep one exciting town.)&lt;br /&gt;2.  I always eat something sweet after dinner.  Bad habit but a necessity for my pallet. &lt;br /&gt;3.  I told someone that K was my friend even though I can't stand her.  The lady asked me "who told you about us" and I couldn't say "oh this snobby lady in my church mentioned your program after I asked her about it twice."&lt;br /&gt;4.  I think that I created this blog post just to continue my slice of life streak and to link to friday confessional.  I hope I can make it the full month for SOL and not bore you to death.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-7591344933492621126?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/7591344933492621126/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=7591344933492621126' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/7591344933492621126'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/7591344933492621126'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/03/friday-confessional.html' title='Friday Confessional'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-5283885523753087701</id><published>2010-03-04T06:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-04T07:10:57.428-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='slice of life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pet peeves'/><title type='text'>Not a Fan</title><content type='html'>My mom told me "never say never" because then it will happen to you.  But there are two things you will &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;never&lt;/span&gt; see in our house:  wheelie shoes and chalkboard paint on the walls.&lt;br /&gt;Working in pediatric neurosurgery has made me a lot more aware of the dangers of jumping on the bed, sledding, and any four-wheeled vehicle.  But I don't remember seeing wheelie shoes as a cause of an injury.  I just don't like them.  Why would you encourage your kids to run / slide anywhere but your driveway?  And why would you encourage them to rock back on their heels rather than walk like a normal person.  I had roller blades &amp; loved them as an adolescent but you wouldn't see me rollerblading in the mall (not that our town had a mall), or any other crowded place. &lt;br /&gt;Chalkboard paint is a new fad in home decorating.  But why would you teach your child that it's ok to draw on the walls AT ALL?  I'm just thinking of my toddler and he doesn't know the difference between a special chalkboard wall and a regular one.  And he doesn't know the difference between crayons or chalk (not that I think Buddy would like chalk - he has texture issues and issues with stuff on his hands: so the chalk would freak him out).  And personally, I don't like chalk that much either and we don't have any here at home.  Maybe it;s the chalk companies way of staying in business - now that a lot of schools, churches, and businesses are going with whiteboards for their display needs.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S.  If you have wheelies or chalkboard paint - we can still be friends.  As long as you don't sneak them into my house. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-5283885523753087701?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/5283885523753087701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=5283885523753087701' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/5283885523753087701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/5283885523753087701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/03/not-fan.html' title='Not a Fan'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-8598808789875168077</id><published>2010-03-03T08:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-03T08:05:00.156-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='slice of life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenthood'/><title type='text'>Talking in his sleep</title><content type='html'>Buddy's nightime friends include:  his blanket, a bottle (with water in it), one of his stuffed animals, and a matchbox car or a hand sized ball.  It's just easier to get him to sleep if he has all of these things and if he spends a while playing withe the car or ball then we usually don't care (less than an hour or we go in &amp; take it away).  Well tonight it was a ball - a little practice golfball (the kind that look like mini wuffle balls - with a bunch of holes in them.  I got those to replace the golf balls he had in SL  because our wood floors weren't as fond of them as he was (they are the perfect size for his hand).  We went to go tuck him in before going to bed &amp; as usual we found him in an awkward position (how he falls asleep with his head against the wood rails I"ll never know).  John picked him up, flipped him over, and the ball came loose.  How did we know the ball came loose? Because Buddy said "Baa Ball" (for some reason he calls all balls basket or "baa" balls).  It took all the control we had to keep our giggles quiet enough not to wake him.&lt;br /&gt;Maybe you had to be there.... but it was cute.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-8598808789875168077?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/8598808789875168077/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=8598808789875168077' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/8598808789875168077'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/8598808789875168077'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/03/talking-in-his-sleep.html' title='Talking in his sleep'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-7771159891466984173</id><published>2010-03-02T11:04:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-02T11:18:18.474-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='slice of life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='motherhood'/><title type='text'>adventures @ the library</title><content type='html'>Every Tuesday I try to get up and ready in time to take Buddy to our library story time.  I don't really understand why they always have activities for toddlers in the morning - especially since it usually takes most of the morning for us to get up, bathe, get dressed, and eat something (this task is the longest some days).  To add to that getting the coat  &amp; shoes on and getting out the door - well it's a work out.  And Book Babies (the library storytime for children under 2) is CROWDED! If we're not there by the time the library opens then we usually have to sit in the second or third row - which is hard for Buddy because he has hard enough time focusing on the story teller when we are in the front row.  &lt;br /&gt;Today we made it! On the front row!  I asked him if he wanted to sit on the floor &amp; he agreed.  Two minutes later he said "ma ma".  I asked him if he wanted to sit on my lap &amp; he said "No".  Turns out he wanted me to sit on the floor with him.  Well I'm not going to sit on the floor in a crowded (parents sitting knee to knee on the chairs) room.  He got pretty ticked at that.  Needless to say story time wasn't as productive as I would have liked it to be.  &lt;br /&gt;After story time we (meaning Buddy) wrestle the giant pillows they have in the center of the children's section, go find some books (Buddy loves taking books off the shelves &amp; I have to hurry &amp; grab a few board books &amp; show him the chairs before we have 12 or so books on the floor), and find a seat.  Buddy loves the little chairs &amp; tables.  He gets up &amp; goes down.  Occasionally looking at the book I am trying to read him.&lt;br /&gt;Then we go to look at "mommy's books" - if I"m lucky and he's not running / yelling by then.  I grab my "reserved" books - this is the greatest idea:  you can go online &amp; request books, the librarian will pull them (when they are avaliable) and put them on the shelf with your name on a slip of paper.  It's awesome because I never have time to browse or look up a book in the catalog &amp; find where it might be.&lt;br /&gt;After that sometimes we go to the video section - again with me being quick to pick out a video with an animal or train on it &amp; put it in Buddy's hand so that we don't end up with half a dozen dvds or vhs (which we don't even have a player for any more - so VHS are pointless but Buddy still likes the boxes).  Then we go &amp; see the fish.&lt;br /&gt;Well the library we go to has a circular ramp that goes between the three levels (and you can see the fish pond in the center on the first floor).  Today after grabbing a few books, Buddy didn't want to see the fish or look at the videos - he just wanted to go up &amp; down the ramp.  After all, who needs books when you have an awesome ramp to run up and down.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-7771159891466984173?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/7771159891466984173/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=7771159891466984173' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/7771159891466984173'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/7771159891466984173'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/03/adventures-library.html' title='adventures @ the library'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-4369624747660445255</id><published>2010-03-02T10:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-02T11:03:44.596-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='slice of life'/><title type='text'>Slice of Life Challenge</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://twowritingteachers.files.wordpress.com/2009/01/sols2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 216px; height: 216px;" src="http://twowritingteachers.files.wordpress.com/2009/01/sols2.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Getting caught up in the internet is only a few clicks away and it has become my favorite Buddy nap time  hobby.  Sure I could be cleaning the bathroom but that is gross.  Instead I check my email, facebook, and then blogger rss reader and the hour goes by like a breeze.  Well today I am starting a "challenge" that I found a few clicks away from one of the blogs I read.  It is called the &lt;a href="http://twowritingteachers.wordpress.com/2010/03/01/day1of31/"&gt;Slice of Life Challenge&lt;/a&gt;.  Participants are to blog every day about something little in their life.  I've wanted to start being more faithful in journal writing since Elder Eyring's &lt;a href="http://www.lds.org/conference/talk/display/0,5232,23-1-775-24,00.html"&gt;talk &lt;/a&gt;on recognizing God's blessings He gives us in the every day / little scenarios.  But here is a "challenge" that I'm going to complete - that might help me start a good habit.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-4369624747660445255?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/4369624747660445255/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=4369624747660445255' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/4369624747660445255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/4369624747660445255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/03/slice-of-life-challenge.html' title='Slice of Life Challenge'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-7944177777476468651</id><published>2010-03-01T20:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-01T21:04:52.194-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='30'/><title type='text'>30 before 30</title><content type='html'>I've wanted to do this for a while but wasn't sure I could come up with thirty things I could realistically do before I turn the big three-oh.  I figured I should get started on writing my list so that I can get started WORKING on my list.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*   use my passport again&lt;br /&gt;*   redecorate the master bedroom&lt;br /&gt;*   finish Faith's scrapbook (just when I think I'm done I come across something more / or another event I want to record)&lt;br /&gt;*   dye my hair (I'm thinking more auburn) - &amp; not just highlights  (I may have to use that dye Jen suggested this weekend)&lt;br /&gt;*   attempt bread in the bread maker again (since the first time it was a complete failure)&lt;br /&gt;*   establish a regular exercise routine (which has been non-existent since the move away from my work-out buddies)&lt;br /&gt;*   write / illustrate a children's (infant genre - 8 pages or so) book &amp; send it to at least one publisher&lt;br /&gt;*   stop one of my bad habits&lt;br /&gt;*   serve at a soup kitchen&lt;br /&gt;*   make a new (&amp; true) friend&lt;br /&gt;*   pick up piano again&lt;br /&gt;*   karaoke&lt;br /&gt;*   complete (including printing out) a digital scrapbook page&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is that 30 yet?  ok.... well I'll think about it and add some more later.  any other fun ideas you have on your "list" that I might want to add to mine?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-7944177777476468651?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/7944177777476468651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=7944177777476468651' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/7944177777476468651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/7944177777476468651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/03/30-before-30.html' title='30 before 30'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-1209502447544291229</id><published>2010-02-13T13:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-13T13:57:05.377-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='review'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='scrapbooking'/><title type='text'>Crop night at Robert's Arts &amp; Crafts</title><content type='html'>I went to the $5 crop night last night at Robert's Arts &amp; Crafts.  It was my first crop (well that I had to pay for - so first "official" crop).  It was scheduled from 5-midnight but I didn't arrive until about 6 (and I wasn't the last to arrive).  There were 5 other ladies there as well as various Roberts employees stopping in (to chat with the other Roberts employee who was the "host").&lt;br /&gt;I packed a lot more supplies than I ever used but I wanted to make sure that my time away was productive and for the most part it was (when I wasn't frustrated that my daughters book is 8 1/2 x 11 and that I feel like I have to shove all these cute pictures on one layout).  I brought my scrapbooking tote full of paper, the album of pictures I have printed out for Buddy, some ribbon, a few sets of alphabet stickers, lots of glue / adhesive, my 12x12 paper cutter (the crappy one because I can't find my lovely since we moved in August), an idea book, three inking pads, a couple of punches (which I didn't use), some cards (in case I had extra time), and a KOTM (from Lisa Bernstein- again, if I had time leftover).  I also brought some swedish fish &amp; a bottle of water (I ate dinner before I left).&lt;br /&gt;Upon arrival we each showed our receipt and got a $5 coupon to use in the store that night (must be used the night of the crop).  One lady brought dinner (and ate it there before she started on her pages).  Two ladies had brought their Cricuts (one had never used hers before &amp; didn't have time to attend the weeknight class they offered so basically brought it to be taught how to use it - she was the only one who offered to let others use hers).  Two of the ladies were friends &amp; shared supplies (and the other cricut) - they stepped out to get take out @ the Chinese place next door for a while and then left about 9:45 to go to a late show (and make a full ladies night out of the evening).  The Roberts employee said we could use the old school (and I'm talking pre-Sizzix) die cutting machine. the 20 + pattern-cutting scissors and 20 or so punches.  The rest of the night was spent making scrapbook pages and shopping @ Roberts (for things the ladies had forgotten or things "needed" to complete a page).  I was pretty happy with myself - I got nine layouts done (in my simple scrapbooking style).  Only me &amp; one other lady stayed until around 11:50 p.m.  By then there were a bunch of Roberts employees scrapbooking or making card projects.  They talked about a Cricut "swarm" coming up - where everyone brings their cricut, pays $25, gets a "make &amp; take" project as part of their fees (which I wish they would have had @ this crop), and competes for prizes. I won't be going - as I don't have a Cricut.  &lt;br /&gt;In fact, I probably won't pay to go to a store crop again.  The main reason for having it there at the store is the convenience factor - as in if you "need" something to complete your page or if you forgot something.  I get a little overwhelmed at the shopping part of scrapbooking (and the details some people go to for their pages), so a store crop probably isn't for me.  I don't think I've heard the words "so cute"  SO much in the space of a couple of hours (that was one of the Roberts employees - ugh).  &lt;br /&gt;It was interesting to hear these ladies talk (the Roberts employees especially) and to hear how much "stuff" they have.  I guess it would be comparable to me working at a book store - if you're around it all the time, it's hard not to spend everything you make on the latest and greatest for the craft. One of the employees said she had both the small and the large Cricut - what a waste (IMO).&lt;br /&gt;I really enjoy our area group crops a lot better than this "official" one- we share our supplies a lot more, the conversation seems better and to involve everyone there, and the style of the pages (or craft style in general) is a lot more low key.  &lt;br /&gt;I think, too, because we have those every week and they don't cost money - I don't feel the pressure to put out / produce so many layouts every time (or to stay until midnight - my back is still aching today).&lt;br /&gt;So that is my take on my Roberts crop night.  What about those of you who scrapbook:  Do you enjoy going to crops?  What makes a crop successful in your mind?  What are the essentials that you pack? (this is a major question that I googled before going last night)  Do you offer to share your stuff? (I did but no one took me up on it - I guess my stuff just wasn't their style)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-1209502447544291229?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/1209502447544291229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=1209502447544291229' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/1209502447544291229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/1209502447544291229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/02/crop-night-at-roberts-arts-crafts.html' title='Crop night at Robert&apos;s Arts &amp; Crafts'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-8101859416959404904</id><published>2010-02-08T14:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-11T20:42:54.834-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='decorating'/><title type='text'>Decorating Dilemma</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3TYVbz5WpI/AAAAAAAAEso/f5ccc0o4knc/s1600-h/IMG_1805.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3TYVbz5WpI/AAAAAAAAEso/f5ccc0o4knc/s200/IMG_1805.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437208512897309330" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I confess - I blog stalk at least half a dozen decorating blogs.  I could spend hours watching a house flipping show  or anything on HGTV (if I had cable).  But I haven't done anything to jazz up or customize our new house besides plain white blinds, hang up some curtains we already had, and put a few pictures (like three) up on the wall.  I am also afraid of paint.  I don't know why - it is a silly thing to be afraid of actually (and very easy to fix if it doesn't turn out) - but our walls are what I like to call "new construction tan".  I have some ideas for the front room and the master suite in mind but it is Buddy's room that floors me.&lt;br /&gt;The problem is this illustration that John got from one of his professors.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3DuW3Hx2MI/AAAAAAAAEsc/VBE40qJ05gU/s1600-h/IMG_1798.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:left;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3DuW3Hx2MI/AAAAAAAAEsc/VBE40qJ05gU/s200/IMG_1798.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436106826757298370" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wasn't too thrilled  - I mean, it's a cute illustration but cows don't hatch out of eggs and they don't have wings.  Then John spent some money and got it framed (even with 60% off, it was more than I would like to spend on a frame) right after Buddy was born.&lt;br /&gt;The frame is black, and yes, the picture has to stay. (John said "yes it has to stay in the room and why are you worried about decorating Buddy's room anyway.  Just leave it.  Typical guy)  The furniture is light wood (if particle board can be called wood), and the decor is what I like to call "whatever".  &lt;br /&gt;I really liked this plaque my aunt got us and I was thinking of going with one of the blues for an accent wall or something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3TZA9SunBI/AAAAAAAAEs0/dLTmO8uAC8A/s1600-h/IMG_1803.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3TZA9SunBI/AAAAAAAAEs0/dLTmO8uAC8A/s200/IMG_1803.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437209260619373586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another problem is that I would like to keep the theme gender neutral (in case Buddy has to share his room with a sister in the next two years or so.  And NO that's not an announcement).&lt;br /&gt;This is where my blog stalking hopefully pays off.  I"m going to contact these lovely ladies and see if they will impart advice on Buddy's hodgepodge room.  I also would appreciate any advice from you (my friends &amp;amp; family) - especially if it has pictures or paint swatch names.&lt;br /&gt;I'll keep you posted - hopefully I'll be able to get some great ideas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3TblmqbszI/AAAAAAAAEtA/sJ_IFXa9HOA/s1600-h/IMG_1800.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3TblmqbszI/AAAAAAAAEtA/sJ_IFXa9HOA/s200/IMG_1800.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437212089223197490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3TcL-sFJ9I/AAAAAAAAEtM/zBKa5GqjO0E/s1600-h/IMG_1799.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3TcL-sFJ9I/AAAAAAAAEtM/zBKa5GqjO0E/s200/IMG_1799.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437212748507588562" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-8101859416959404904?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/8101859416959404904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=8101859416959404904' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/8101859416959404904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/8101859416959404904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/02/decorating-dilemma.html' title='Decorating Dilemma'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3TYVbz5WpI/AAAAAAAAEso/f5ccc0o4knc/s72-c/IMG_1805.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-3720099306919389420</id><published>2010-02-07T15:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-07T15:39:34.200-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><title type='text'>Better than I expected</title><content type='html'>Seeing as how Thursday went so well, I was NOT looking forward to R.S. today. To my surprise, I got a call yesterday to substitute in Buddy's class.  To my even more pleasant surprise - it went really well. He cried for the first five minutes (even though I kept telling him I was going to stay and be his teacher today - he wanted "Da Da").  Then we had fun for the rest of the time.  &lt;br /&gt;When I got home, I realized what a blessing it was not to have to worry about feeling judged or lonely that last hour of church (not that K or A were in that class, but I still feel that way - why is that?).  &lt;br /&gt;When John &amp; I were first married (and living in Happy Valley - yeah that ward was pleasant) we were in nursery every-other-week for the whole time we lived there (2 years).  I hated it and didn't think I would ever get over the trauma to have kids of my own.  But now that I have been called to be a R.S. teacher (once a month) and I've had this great Sunday - I wonder if I would like to trade callings.  Probably not every week, but it is easier to teach 2 year olds than it is 20+ year olds.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-3720099306919389420?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/3720099306919389420/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=3720099306919389420' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/3720099306919389420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/3720099306919389420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/02/better-than-i-expected.html' title='Better than I expected'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-5710194611945634024</id><published>2010-02-04T12:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-04T13:03:54.187-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='complaining again'/><title type='text'>Play group is over - can I have a drink now?</title><content type='html'>I'm trying people - really I am.  I've been to almost every church activity and just got home from another "play group".  It was like I wasn't even there.  No, don't try to make me feel welcome by calling me by my first name.  No, don't involve me in any of your stupid conversations - especially the major one about how you eat healthy but your husband is a snacker (who couldn't name his favorite vegetable when you got married).  Please, don't tell me how you taught your children the ABC song or their colors (even they're only two) because I don't want my kid to be smart.  Oh, and could you practically scold me when I chase after my kid and accidentally go into your "messy room" - because that will really make me feel like staying at your house longer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, I shouldn't be so critical.  Obviously K has some mental issues (which explains why her house is pristine, but all painted gray) and A is just a label-loving snob (notice I'm keeping it PG here).  But that's all who was there.  And I'm just frustrated that I can't find a Mel or a Deb here in the Falls.  It's not like we plan on living here long - we only purchased a house.  Ugggggg.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do have scrapbooking again tonight, which I feel a little more comfortable at.  I met this random group on craigslist (as well as the book group I attend).  I know the Church is true, but some of the people in it aren't (true Christians).  &lt;br /&gt;And when I have play group at my house (in two weeks), I'm going to do my best to make everyone feel comfortable. &lt;br /&gt;(Although I'm worried that not a soul will show up since it's been the host-mom, A, and me at the last two meetings - and A already acts like she too good to be my friend.  So if it's just me:  well Buddy &amp; I will have an awesome time and maybe I'll let him watch choo choos on TV while I rant to my true friends in other cities - via the internet).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-5710194611945634024?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/5710194611945634024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=5710194611945634024' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/5710194611945634024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/5710194611945634024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/02/play-group-is-over-can-i-have-drink-now.html' title='Play group is over - can I have a drink now?'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-6761864086135176387</id><published>2010-02-02T16:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-02T16:21:10.036-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='from Buddy'/><title type='text'>I think I can..(with Mom's help)</title><content type='html'>Hey guys - &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was another Tuesday and I got to go to Book Babies.  We actually made it on time today (no thanks to Mom - she is so hard to get ready &amp; get out the door in the morning) so we got a seat and got to listen to the whole thing.  I was a little mad because I wanted to read the lion book but Mom made me wait until the librarian had read it to the group - what a party pooper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After library (with the awesome fishes and tons of books to pull off the shelves), lunch (cookies and chicken nuggets), and nap - we went to this cool place called McDonalds.  I've been there before, but that was months ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This time I got Mom to come all the way up the winding tunnels with me.  But I climbed all by myself - I only needed her there to encourage me and take all the static away (with her crazy hair sticking up)!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isn't that awesome!  I am just getting bigger every day.  Pretty soon I won't need her to follow up all the way up - which is good because she likes to just sit at the bottom (even though that is REALLY boring).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Off to sneak in some youtube before Mom catches me on her computer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you,&lt;br /&gt;Buddy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-6761864086135176387?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/6761864086135176387/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=6761864086135176387' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/6761864086135176387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/6761864086135176387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/02/i-think-i-canwith-moms-help.html' title='I think I can..(with Mom&apos;s help)'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-4675273503123724468</id><published>2010-02-01T14:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-01T14:54:58.944-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='baby boy'/><title type='text'>Miscommunication</title><content type='html'>The other morning Buddy &amp; I woke up to lots of fog everywhere. &lt;br /&gt;I said - "Look outside Buddy there's lots of fog"&lt;br /&gt;He said - "Ribbit! Ribbit!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-4675273503123724468?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/4675273503123724468/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=4675273503123724468' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/4675273503123724468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/4675273503123724468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/02/miscommunication.html' title='Miscommunication'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-4263877461869485324</id><published>2010-01-29T13:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-29T14:17:04.637-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='complaining again'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='motherhood'/><title type='text'>I would walk two miles...</title><content type='html'>January blahs - that is what is going on with Buddy &amp; I.  &lt;br /&gt;John is VERY busy with work, teaching, and freelance.  He is loving teaching and he got an award the other day for something he accomplished at work (although he isn't going to hang the certificate up in his cubicle like his other coworkers do).  We are very lucky to have such a great provider for us and that we get to spend a couple of hours a night with him is even more of a plus.  &lt;br /&gt;But Buddy and I (well mostly me because Buddy would be satisfied if I would let him watch youtube all day - he's addicted) are ready for spring already.  It's a constant battle to get him to eat anything (that sugar isn't the main ingredient aka  "treats" - one of his few words), use his words (he knows some - or used to - sign language), and get him to self-entertain ("Momma" always has to be at his side playing with him).&lt;br /&gt;So Wednesday we went for a walk (thanks for the suggestion Mom) - two miles.  Although it seemed like more - I was wearing my regular shoes (to which I now have a sore on my heel thanking me), jeans, and a coat.  Buddy was pretty pleasant most of the time.  By the time we were about to turn around and head home he started to get restless - pulling off his hat (I still can't find one of his gloves from two weeks ago), kicking out of the leg cover I had on him, and showing off his self-made tatoo to the passing motorists (which is from his "draw"ing experience Tuesday - scribbles on his shin).&lt;br /&gt;We have had the blessing of visits to/from "mikey" (said in a whisper &amp; sounds more like "bikey") when Ali is working &amp; Mike gets substitute jobs in Ammon.  We also have book babies @ the library on Tuesdays and now preschool open gym @ the rec center - so I shouldn't complain.    Sometimes it's just hard to answer the call to get out of bed (which this morning was Buddy telling his blanket - "No No No!") with a smile.&lt;br /&gt;Well this blog post is ending - Buddy is going "uhh uhh uhhh" and has climbed onto my lap (inbetween me and the computer).&lt;br /&gt;Reader participation time:  what do you do to stave off the winter blahs? oh &amp; any suggestions on how to paint with a toddler on your heels?  Thanks in advance!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-4263877461869485324?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/4263877461869485324/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=4263877461869485324' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/4263877461869485324'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/4263877461869485324'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/01/i-would-walk-two-miles.html' title='I would walk two miles...'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-5246245736172773843</id><published>2010-01-22T08:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-22T08:27:55.057-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='motherhood'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='good reads'/><title type='text'>My body doesn't like my 1 a.m. reading</title><content type='html'>I still remember clicking off the light, putting my book aside, and pretending to be asleep whenever I would hear my parents come down the stairs.  I felt lucky because my room had a built in alarm system to whenever someone might be coming to mae sure I was in bed.  &lt;br /&gt;Now that I have a place of my own, I can stay up and read to my hearts content - ha ha ha .  The only consequence is how I feel the next day (to which I always vow to go to bed earlier). That and the fact that Buddy doesn't care how late I've stayed up- or what I was doing - it's time to get up MOM!&lt;br /&gt;Well I'm showered &amp; semi ready for the day - it's 9:20.  I really should have saved finishing that book for today - my body would have felt better.  Oh well.  Lesson learned.  At least until the next book. (and then I'll go to bed by midnight, I promise)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-5246245736172773843?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/5246245736172773843/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=5246245736172773843' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/5246245736172773843'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/5246245736172773843'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/01/my-body-doesnt-like-my-1-am-reading.html' title='My body doesn&apos;t like my 1 a.m. reading'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-1359164741869542205</id><published>2010-01-10T14:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-10T14:36:33.533-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenthood'/><title type='text'>Church---- GO!</title><content type='html'>One of Buddy's new games is to get by our door &amp; yell "Go!"  He then runs from the front door to our dining room and you're supposed to join him for the next "GO" which is from the dining room back to the door.  &lt;br /&gt;Uncle Mikey introduced him to another version the other day outside on our porch.  Buddy thought that was the best - being outside &amp; the GO game. (Even though Mike just started it to stay warm in the freezing temperature).&lt;br /&gt;Well today the speaker was talking about service and she said "just GO and do it."  Out of everything to actually listen to, Buddy heard that.  He proceeded to say (in his always loud voice) "GO!  GO! Go go go go go go).  Luckily he didn't get mad that he had to sit on John's lap.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that is the message for today:  Go!  Go! Go!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-1359164741869542205?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/1359164741869542205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=1359164741869542205' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/1359164741869542205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/1359164741869542205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2010/01/church-go.html' title='Church---- GO!'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-1332808201637405871</id><published>2009-12-06T20:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-06T20:44:01.958-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Blessed</title><content type='html'>Earlier this evening I heard from my dad that someone that I went to high school with just lost their baby.  They knew that there would be complications with the babies heart but they didn't know he would die before he was term - the day before Thanksgiving.  My mom sent me a link to the mother's blog.  I read it and bawled.  I think of the hurt they are going through at this time in their lives and know what an ache that is.  I wish no one had to go through that pain - it is horrible.  Yet, on the blog, she expresses her feelings of loss and her faith so well.  It made me pause and think about my Faithy and how debilitating her loss was to us for such a long time.  I still can't talk about it (five plus years later) without almost crying (and yes, I'm crying now).  I am in awe how strong this (practically a) stranger is and I want to give her a hug (even though I'm  not really a hugger).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not that I want to focus on loss this season - because that is not it at all.  I just want to remember my blessings (both those in the past and in the present) a little more.  With Faith, it was easier to see the little things as blessings: like the days she didn't pull out her feeding tube or spit up, the people we were able to meet and receive help from because of where we lived (our angels on earth - Nurse Kathy, Nurse/Aunt Becky, and Judy), and most of all the spirit that radiated from her - even on her bad days.&lt;br /&gt;And after a long wait- the blessing of our Buddy coming into our lives (even though he can be a Raptor sometimes).  &lt;br /&gt;Through everything the love and support we felt from our dear dear family was a blessing we couldn't have lived without.&lt;br /&gt;Probably the greatest blessing, and most important thing I want to always remember is the gift of our Savior through His atonement.  It is through that great Power that I can repent and return to Him, my Faithy, and  be with my family for eternity.  And  that is the greatest gift of all.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-1332808201637405871?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/1332808201637405871/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=1332808201637405871' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/1332808201637405871'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/1332808201637405871'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2009/12/blessed.html' title='Blessed'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-638541568881439287</id><published>2009-11-22T18:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T18:53:33.855-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Need a laugh?</title><content type='html'>About a year before the movie came out, John's friend showed us &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uSP_NAjIv4Q"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; bizarre film that was a success at Sundance.  When we heard that Napoleon Dynamite would be a full length film we laughed.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, we watched it today and it makes us laugh every time.   I seriously wore the exact dress that Trisha wears to the dance - to my seminary graduation!  And who didn't make boondoggles or wear their hair in a side ponytail?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-638541568881439287?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/638541568881439287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=638541568881439287' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/638541568881439287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/638541568881439287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2009/11/need-laugh.html' title='Need a laugh?'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-7861180081877127739</id><published>2009-11-18T23:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-18T23:14:14.382-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Prying Eyes are watching you...</title><content type='html'>So I'm wondering as I type this post if I should get a blog for just my ramblings &amp; leave this one to be about our family events.  Any opinions?  Yeah, I didn't think so.... (my two public followers are related to me by birth &amp; marriage).  I'll think about that another time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I am writing to confess that I like to blogstalk people.  I follow blogs anonymously of my friends (and spouses of friends - if my friends don't write a blog) and just recently some design people I like to learn from.  Once I'm on one of my friends blogs, I click on various blogs found on the right hand side and I end up learning things about people's lives that I'm merely know by sight or sometimes not at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So you might want to watch out what you post because I'll probably read it some time (if you are connected to the people I follow by 6 degrees or less).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could spend forever reading blogs.  When actually I should be preparing my church talk or going to bed.  I guess that is what is meant when we are counseled to watch what we spend / waste our time on.  Well at least I'm reading instead of watching TV.  And at least its all funny/interesting/non-smutty stuff.  &lt;br /&gt;I find it ironic that most of my communication is via computer rather than face to face.  Can you have a cyber-friendship if it is only onesided (eg.  me reading your blog and laughing).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It could be a lot worse..... but it could also be a lot better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-7861180081877127739?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/7861180081877127739/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=7861180081877127739' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/7861180081877127739'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/7861180081877127739'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2009/11/prying-eyes-are-watching-you.html' title='Prying Eyes are watching you...'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-967707571877787854</id><published>2009-10-19T16:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-19T17:13:12.411-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hand sanitizer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='baby boy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='motherhood'/><title type='text'>"This is Poison Control, how can I help you?"</title><content type='html'>"Yes, I think my son might have accidentally ingested hand sanitizer."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's what happens if you don't pay attention to your 16 month old.  Who knew that Buddy could scramble in my purse, find the hand sanitizer, and screw off the lid?  (Yes it has a poppable lid, but obviously unscrewing it was easier than flipping the top)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I called Poison Control.  They verified the type of sanitizer (60% Ethyl Alcohol) and told me that he probably didn't drink it because it would taste really bad.  But hey - kids eat everything.  They told me to have him eat a sugar and a protein (since he hadn't eaten since lunch) to help his blood sugars (or something) and watch him for an hour.  If he staggers (don't all 16 month olds stagger?) or vomits, then we're going to the ER.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say - Buddy had donuts and cheese as a pre-dinner snack.  I'm sure he'll eat well tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;John thinks it's highly unlikely - but at least I know 1. what to do if a child does ingest hand sanitizer and 2. that all hand sanitizers should be kept on high counters and away from any possibility of Buddy reaching them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-967707571877787854?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/967707571877787854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=967707571877787854' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/967707571877787854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/967707571877787854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2009/10/this-is-poison-control-how-can-i-help.html' title='&quot;This is Poison Control, how can I help you?&quot;'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-495609312162619214</id><published>2009-10-19T15:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-19T17:09:45.848-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Salt Lake City Utah'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='seriously?'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='complaining again'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='craigslist'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pet peeves'/><title type='text'>Crazy on Craigslist</title><content type='html'>For a while now one of the sites I check every day is craigslist.  It's like a huge online garage sale.  I love seeing what stuff people are selling or offering up for free or wanting.  I've even posted some items (when I lived in SL)with success like our dishwasher, free baby food jars, and some scrapbook supplies.  My "wanted" posts have been less successful:  a babysitter (hey I was going to do a background check before I had them watch Buddy - don't judge me, I was desperate), a HD converter, and a jogging stroller - just to name a few.&lt;br /&gt;As far as purchasing items - well they have kind of worked out.  I found our dishwasher, a LDS sitter less than a block from my home (in the stake right next to mine &amp; yes I did call her other references) that worked out for a month (maybe less, I can' t remember now),   my phone (which I'm not sure if it stopped working 3 months later because of Buddy or because it was a piece of junk), some DS games for my cousin, and now hardbound Harry Potter 1-4.&lt;br /&gt;I say kind of because it's always a pain to go and get the items.  Unlike ebay, you have to spend the gas and time to find the persons house to pick the item up (unless the seller is willing to deliver - which is likely for a fee :S).  Take today for instance. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to digress for a minute and insert one of my biggest pet peeves here.  On craigslist you post where your item you have for sale is.  When we lived in SL, one of the most annoying things ever was that people would put Salt Lake (whether they lived in West Jordan, Sandy, anywhere in the valley - they would put Salt Lake).  Well DUH - you're posting on the Salt Lake craigslist, I would think that your item is in Salt Lake.  I would be all excited about picking up the item only to email them and realized that their item wasn't in Salt Lake City - it was in South Jordan, Holladay, or Murray (etc. - you get my point).  Seriously people - - if you don't live in Salt Lake CITY - put where you live (or where your item is to pick up).  I understand if someone asked where you were from and you said the nearest city BUT if you are posting an item for sale (that someone will have to pick up) be SPECIFIC.  It's especially hard now that we have moved are surrounded by farms and the roads are few and far between.  Basically, if you don't want to tick Becky (and I'm sure some other people are like me) off - put where your item really is.  One good example is that before I moved &amp; when I posted stuff I would put University area Salt Lake City.  So although my item said it was in IF, it was really in Ucon (which I think should be considered closer to Rigby technically than Idaho Falls).  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not going to tell you how long - but I spent a significant amount of time looking for this house.  I called John (and he called me) several times - since he was near a computer and is my GPS.  Basically it was a HUGE headache.&lt;br /&gt;Worth the $20?  I'm not sure.  I was about to give up when I was clear out in nowhere land (which I later discovered was Rigby) but in my mind I kept thinking - I've come this far &amp; I'm going to find it &amp; get those books:  even if it kills me.&lt;br /&gt;Buddy meanwhile is in the back occasionally screaming for ball and scratching his legs (yeah he has a rash - I'm spacing on the name @ the moment, but we have cream we're putting on it).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally found it (nope - I'm not going to tell you here how long I've been driving either), got the books, and headed to my next destination.  I guess now every time I look @ those books I will remember the grr I have with people and their houses in the middle of nowhere but on the other hand - what a great deal I got on those books.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-495609312162619214?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/495609312162619214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=495609312162619214' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/495609312162619214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/495609312162619214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2009/10/crazy-on-craigslist.html' title='Crazy on Craigslist'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-7798160294202755476</id><published>2009-10-15T19:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-15T20:13:41.153-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='razzled'/><title type='text'>Today</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;It was nice fall weather today.  The ever-present wind wasn't actually too cold and there were times that I was outside without my jacket on.  We went to a park in Shelley and Buddy had a blast on the "weeee" (as he calls the swings and slide).  He also discovered the merry-go-round.  Picture this: I'm trying to hold him (and have him sit down) while I'm "pushing" us with one of my legs.  I'm sure it looked really bizarre to the other family that was there at the same time.  So I sat him down in the middle, put his arms around one of the poles, and walked the merry-go-round around.  But that lasted for 0.5 seconds.  Buddy wanted to stand up and walk around.  He thought it was &lt;b&gt;SO&lt;/b&gt; funny to walk to the opposite side that I was on - meanwhile I'm trying to be on all sides so he doesn't walk off.  Needless to say he kept coming back to the merry-go-round and we ended up spending 1/2 hour or so on it.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On our way home we stopped at Kings (a 70's version of Walmart - with toys, household items, yard items, holiday items, and some really weird clothing).  I got a mat to put under Buddy's highchair because even though he knows that throwing food &amp;amp; utensils is a "no no" he still does it anyway.  Oh &amp;amp; yesterday he learned to say the word "NO" so now he throws the food (or whatever) and then says "no no no".  Lovely.  I also got some Razzles.  I've never tried them before today and I have to say I didn't really miss out on anything.  Their slogan is "candy that turns into a gum" but I think they're really just old flat pieces of gum.  It kind of crumbles in your mouth and then if you keep chewing it your saliva turns it into a really chewy, flavor that's gone in 2 minutes, hard gum.  But I had to try them - since &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wO0810JIF4Q"&gt;13 going on 30&lt;/a&gt; is one of my favorite shows.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Does my tongue look Razzle Red?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/StfkvgRVcmI/AAAAAAAAEjI/BWZGQ3tJ7dE/s200/Photo+25.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5393030583567086178" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-7798160294202755476?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/7798160294202755476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=7798160294202755476' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/7798160294202755476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/7798160294202755476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2009/10/today.html' title='Today'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/StfkvgRVcmI/AAAAAAAAEjI/BWZGQ3tJ7dE/s72-c/Photo+25.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-7494710955341489919</id><published>2009-09-20T20:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-20T21:19:20.172-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Living the Lifestyle of the Rich and Famous</title><content type='html'>well for at least a day.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;John bought me a certificate for a massage for my birthday last year.  I hesitated to use it because 1) it was expensive, 2) I'd have to find time to do it, 3) I'd have to find a sitter, and 4) I thought it was a little weird for gift idea.  But since it expired September 2009, I scheduled it and came down to Salt Lake to do it.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was amazing!!  The place is called &lt;a href="http://www.breathedayspa.com/site/index.php"&gt;Breathe Day Spa &amp;amp; Boutique&lt;/a&gt;.  It looks so little from the outside but once you get back into the spa part it is like you are in another world.  The whole place was dark with dimmed lights in the rooms and oil burning candles in the hall. Of course it had the nature sounds or light piano playing - and it was decorated like a million dollar place.  My package included&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;75 minute "total relaxation" massage on a heated table (that was my main problem with going to &lt;a href="http://www.ucmt.com/"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;UCMT&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;'s 2 for 1 is that I was freezing!).&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;a "turn back time" facial (when I first read that on the certificate I was a little taken a back - I don't look that old.  But this facial was so amazing that I actually fell asleep while she was doing it - a little weird falling asleep while someone is touching your face but I did).&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;a seasonal foot treatment - including a heated stone massage on my legs as well as dipping my feet in the wax (which I love).  While this was going on - I had a heated neck wrap and a tray with fruit, cheese, crackers, and chocolate to snack on.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;In between each of these - I spent time in their "tea room" drinking water (with a hint of lime) or grape juice and reading about achieving peace with yourself and finding creative outlets.  After everything was done I took a shower in this &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;luxurious&lt;/span&gt; bathroom and then spent another 10 minutes relishing my peaceful alone time in the tea room. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My friend Debbie watched Buddy.  She dropped me off at 10:00 and picked me up at 2:30 - yeah the time just flew by for me.  I'm not so sure about her. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This experience made me feel so relaxed and pampered.  I can't thank John enough for being so thoughtful to get it for me.  Needless to say I called him and spent the next 10 minutes trying to express myself and how lovely it was.  If I ever win a million dollars I'll probably spend a lot of it at spas like this one - and I'll bring some friends along because it is an experience every woman should take for herself - at least once in a life time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-7494710955341489919?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/7494710955341489919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=7494710955341489919' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/7494710955341489919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/7494710955341489919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2009/09/living-lifestyle-of-rich-and-famous.html' title='Living the Lifestyle of the Rich and Famous'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-2316691574612853189</id><published>2009-09-14T20:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-19T17:10:42.794-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='baby boy'/><title type='text'>A day of firsts</title><content type='html'>First I would like to thank my lovely movers.  I don't think I will ever pack or move myself again.  I feel so spoiled that I only had to pack the stuff we didn't want moved for us.&lt;div&gt;The Japanese guy who packed up my kitchen took such care - even my bag of plastic straws had four sheets of packing parchment around it.  And everything was moved into my house and our bed was even set up in less than two hours today - amazing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't think I'll ever fill all my cupboard space in my new kitchen.  Who knows - maybe once I spend some more time in it I'll like to cook (although I wouldn't hold your breath). :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Buddy loves all the space to run around in.  He spent this morning with his great grandpa in our family room in the basement.  Then this afternoon (after grandpa had already left) when we went back downstairs, Buddy kept saying "grand-pa" (although it sounds like "band-ba").  He thought that grandpa would still be down there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He also had fun discovering his toys that had been packed up.  When we opened the box and took some out - he grabbed his Glow-worm and started kissing it's face - it was really cute.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And Buddy marked his territory tonight in his bathroom.  To give him credit - I shouldn't have let him get up mid-diaper change (but I was on the phone) AND he did pee on the side of the toilet (so at least he knows that is what the toilet is for - he was just about two feet too short to make it in).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Buddy can also get into the tub himself - in fact after I had stripped him down to his socks - he swung one leg over and then the next.  He was a little disappointed when there was no water &amp;amp; I had to take him out &amp;amp; clean the tub BEFORE he could get in to play.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We will definitely miss Grandpa &amp;amp; Grandma.  They showed us indescribable love and hospitality.  It was a million times better than any hotel or temporary apartment we would have had to find.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I will also miss live-in adult conversation during the day - Buddy just isn't quite to that level of communication yet.  But we feel lucky to be so close and promise to visit often (plus Mike &amp;amp; Ali live there and they still have our stroller from when they watched Buddy last weekend).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And thus we officially start our adventures in our new place.  It is SO big compared to what we are used to  - please feel free to come visit.  So come and knock on our door.  We'll be waiting for you.  And I won't even put you to work- unless you want to. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-2316691574612853189?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/2316691574612853189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=2316691574612853189' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/2316691574612853189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/2316691574612853189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2009/09/day-of-firsts.html' title='A day of firsts'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-2866133823404853541</id><published>2009-08-23T20:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-26T15:22:50.307-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Salt Lake City Utah'/><title type='text'>Best sites about Salt Lake City</title><content type='html'>I'm not sure if I have been trying to keep our location a secret from all the crazies out there or if I've already published it, but we have recently moved from Salt Lake City UT.&lt;div&gt;There are some really cool sites that I used to frequent to keep up with what was going on and just because sometimes I get bored &amp;amp; want to know what my neighbors are doing.  So here they are (so I can officially stop following them on my dashboard and get on with my new life):&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.visitsaltlake.com/mysaltlake/"&gt;http://www.visitsaltlake.com/mysaltlake/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://saltlakecity.craigslist.org/"&gt;http://saltlakecity.craigslist.org/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ksl.com"&gt;http://www.ksl.com&lt;/a&gt;/ (love the comments on EVERY news story as well as the awesome classified section)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.utahdealdiva.com/"&gt;http://www.utahdealdiva.com/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://seriouslysoblessed.blogspot.com"&gt;http://seriouslysoblessed.blogspot.com&lt;/a&gt;/ (I'll probably still read this one occasionally - just for a laugh and to thank my lucky stars I've never had to spend large amounts of time with someone like her)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My favorite place to visit has to be the &lt;a href="http://www.slcpl.lib.ut.us/index.jsp"&gt;public library&lt;/a&gt;. There is just so much going on there &amp;amp; so much to explore.  Besides my friends, that place will be what I miss the most.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I also liked going to Liberty Park.  I only discovered it a while ago (after Buddy was born), even though it was only a few blocks from my former home.  Funny how having a child makes you feel more comfortable exploring new places by yourself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The gym was ok - only because I had GREAT friends to go with and it was really close to my house.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;TRAX, although I've had my complaints, has to be one of the best public transit systems I've experienced (of course I've lived a pretty sheltered life).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Although my new place will have a lot of the same chains - I'll still miss all the things I didn't take time to do in SL:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wheeler Farm&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Red Butte Gardens&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hogle Zoo (I went there when I was a kid &amp;amp; I didn't feel Buddy was old enough to justify the $)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Gardner Village&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thanksgiving Point Gardens&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;amp; all the hiking / camping places (since we're really not THAT into the outdoors)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'll have to make some trips to see those attractions. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Are there any SL websites or places I need to visit?  Leave a comment and let me know!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-2866133823404853541?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/2866133823404853541/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=2866133823404853541' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/2866133823404853541'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/2866133823404853541'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2009/08/best-sites-about-salt-lake-city.html' title='Best sites about Salt Lake City'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-5435629933441630157</id><published>2009-08-23T20:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-23T20:40:36.639-07:00</updated><title type='text'>NO.....</title><content type='html'>this post isn't from my new house.  I was hoping to have a place &amp;amp; post my next post (as well as catch up with all my SL friends) from our new house, but we haven't had much luck.  Not that I haven't been looking - my relator will definitely earn her commission with us.  We've looked at new &amp;amp; old, small yard &amp;amp; large yards, no landscaping &amp;amp; trees everywhere and we just haven't found the perfect place yet.  I believe what they say is true-- first time homebuyers have a hard time seeing potential.  That, also the fact that we want to spend less than we were going to in SL, and I don't want John's commute to be more than 20 min each day -- picky picky!&lt;div&gt;There are two houses that I liked but they both had smokers as previous tenants - so since we're not huge tobacco fans - it's a no.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, we have people praying for us and I'm sure that we will find a place soon.  I just wanted to let all my fans know that we haven't forgotten you or dropped off the face of the earth.  I was hoping for some fun and exciting news next time I talked to you, but I'll forget that and just e-mail you back.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Until next time... we're still chilling with gma &amp;amp; gpa in Sugar!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-5435629933441630157?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/5435629933441630157/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=5435629933441630157' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/5435629933441630157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/5435629933441630157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2009/08/no.html' title='NO.....'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-4662603897007606049</id><published>2009-07-30T20:43:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-30T20:43:46.054-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Nothing sweeter than Sugar</title><content type='html'>&lt;!--StartFragment--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Georgia"&gt;So I have tons of things to blog about - specifically how thankful and blessed I have been; but when I think about it I'm too worn out to post them right now (those types of posts take thinking power).  I will - just give me a week or so.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Georgia"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Georgia"&gt;But I had to tell you about our adventure tonight.  We are loving GGma &amp;amp; GGpa's house.  The food - amazing &amp;amp; also bad for me because my 10-year reunion is in a couple of weeks (&amp;amp; I want to look fab).  The temperature - perfect, I even had to use a blanket last night it was so cool.  The company - great.  John is working all hours so it's nice to have live-in adult conversation.  And Buddy is just having a blast with all the things he can get into.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Georgia"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Georgia"&gt;He has been an awesome eater since we got here yesterday afternoon.  Loves fried zucchini &amp;amp; thinks he wants to try raspberries every time he sees them, but spits it out (even if it has sugar on it) as soon as he puts it in his mouth.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Georgia"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Georgia"&gt;We went to the school today.  Buddy didn't want to waste time going on the baby slide - nope he just kept climbing up to the big boy twisty slide.  I was worried because I couldn't be @ the top to turn him around &amp;amp; @ the bottom to catch him, but I just told him to "turn around" and he did &amp;amp; went down all by himself about 1/2 a dozen times (only once head first).  He loved it &amp;amp; I was amazed how big my little guy is getting.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Georgia"&gt;He also discovered a use for the baby slide - throwing gravel/rocks on it.  "It's fun to get dirty mom &amp;amp; look at all the mess I’m making."  :)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Georgia"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Georgia"&gt;He is now saying "Da Da", "Ma Ma" (just the last couple of days in relation to me), "Hi" (when he picks up something that looks like a cell phone), "Ball", and I'm pretty sure "Dog" (although it still sounds a lot like "Da", he says it when he hears or sees a dog).&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Georgia"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Georgia"&gt;I am tired from having to chase him (or be his jungle gym - depending on the moment), from cleaning, from the emotional process of saying "goodbye" (or "see you later"- because I hate goodbyes), and thinking about our upcoming weddings in August.  But I promise I'll be better @ posting &amp;amp; I do have some drafts saved (just not finished) of things I want the cyber world (and all my fans) to know.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="mso-pagination:none;mso-layout-grid-align:none;text-autospace:none"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Georgia"&gt; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:14.0pt;font-family:Georgia"&gt;But for now..... g'night!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--EndFragment--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-4662603897007606049?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/4662603897007606049/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=4662603897007606049' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/4662603897007606049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/4662603897007606049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2009/07/nothing-sweeter-than-sugar.html' title='Nothing sweeter than Sugar'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-1753254670436515906</id><published>2009-06-27T21:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-04T21:29:22.967-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenthood'/><title type='text'>Raptor-fish and cupcakes</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Once upon a time in a far away land lived a little Raptor whom everybody loved (even when he screeched and bit).  One day the raptor transformed into a raptor fish.  Previous to this day he had always enjoyed his bath time thoroughly but today was the day that he would really get to experience water. &lt;div&gt;So the raptor and his (some times raptor) parents went over to Cousin Kristi's.  At cousin Kristi's, the raptor got a little distracted from his mission because of Sophie the dog.  Raptor thought it was so fun to chase Sophie and get loves.  He didn't give loves (like he normally did to his "puppy") instead he decided that the choke hold was a better move to conquer the pup.  After his mom saw this - she de&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;cided it was time to give Sophie a break and head for the pool&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So Raptor got on special big boy diapers and his new suit (after being reluctantly dragged to the bathroom) and they headed to the pool.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Once in the pool, Raptor met a new friend - Madilyn.  She was a bit&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; older and liked to sit calmly in the pool with her mom.  Rap&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;tor decided that she was using this big bathtub all wrong.  He decided that he would show her how to splash and swim and chase the ball.  He loved this water.  It tasted a little funny and hurt his eyes a bit, but in this water - Mom &amp;amp; Dad could come in with him.  Once he decided that this was his new favorite place - he would "chase" Mom or Dad and kick around and play "motor boat". &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was very fun.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/SkgnNAvi_mI/AAAAAAAADhc/1RCuD6-Bdfg/s200/IMG_1269.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352571261621042786" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But soon the fun ended - the sunscreen was getting washed off.  Mom &amp;amp; Dad didn't know that water repellent and water proof were two different things.  Raptor was turning pink and rubbing his eyes (this could also be due to the fact that it was nap time).  So they got out of the big tub, went back to Sophie's house, changed, p&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;layed more with Sophie, and drove home.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After a half hour nap, Raptor woke up and was surprised to see his friend S.D. visiting.  Raptor decided that it had been too long since they had played together and S.D. had &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;probably forgotten how loud Raptor could screech.  So Raptor spent the next hour or so screeching and getting into trouble.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then it was time for the ward BBQ.  S.D.  &amp;amp; Raptor got in their strollers and went over to the church.  There was all kinds of yummy food but Raptor only wanted Cheetos and hot dog bun pieces.  S.D. was a good eater and spent a long time eating all the food that Mom had cut up for the two of the boys.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After a couple forced bites of yucky "big boy food", Raptor realized that there was nothing else on the table he wanted to eat.  He decided that he would go exploring to the "big kids".  They were playing with water!  Two big Tupperware had been filled with water and water toys.  Raptor was SO excited!  He decided that the big kids weren't splashing enough, so he showed them what the water was really for.  Then the big kids went over to a tray where bubbles were.  Raptor wanted to play too.  But he got confused and thought that you use your hands to splash in the bubbles to make more.  And then when that didn't wor&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;k, he tried to blow bubbles in the bubble solution.  Dad caught him doing this and said "no no no."  All the fun was gone. :(&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Raptor was sad for a minute.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;But then he realized that the water Tupperware/buckets were still there and he could still splash in them.  He got soaking wet.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Finally his tummy started to grumble and unfortunately he threw up in one of the buckets.  Dad had to throw that water out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Minutes later there was a dessert auction for the young women in the ward.  Mom &amp;amp; Dad won some awesome cupcakes that were made in ice cream cones and had awesome sticky green frosting with sprinkles.  While Mom was trying to pass some out (and bribe the young men to be good), Raptor decided it was his turn.  He stuck his hand into the frosting and then into his mouth.  Then he got some frosting and put it in his hair.  So Mom was balancing Raptor and this cupcake sheet while Raptor was showing Mom what the cupcakes were for.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then they sat next to S.D. and each of the boys got a ice cream cone-shaped-cupcake.  Neither wanted to hold the cone for themselves nor eat anything but the frosting.  When Raptor's frosting ran out, he decided he would help S.D. eat his.  Mom did not like this idea and said "no no no".  Raptor got mad. (and we all know what happens when Raptor gets mad)..... SCREECH   SCREECH.  Everyone in the ward thought Raptor looked really cute covered in frosting and cupcake.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/SkgncgmTdJI/AAAAAAAADhk/06FbrsuUykg/s200/IMG_1290.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5352571527870248082" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mom ended up with cupcake all over her shirt and Dad got some on his too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Needless to say, when they got home Raptor got another chance to "swim" in his bathtub before his nighttime routine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The End&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-1753254670436515906?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/1753254670436515906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=1753254670436515906' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/1753254670436515906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/1753254670436515906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2009/06/raptor-fish-and-cupcakes.html' title='Raptor-fish and cupcakes'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/SkgnNAvi_mI/AAAAAAAADhc/1RCuD6-Bdfg/s72-c/IMG_1269.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-6147489156978118634</id><published>2009-06-23T14:51:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-23T15:04:16.892-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random'/><title type='text'>random, I know</title><content type='html'>I've developed a new habit at work.  When it's not busy I go to Google and search blogs for random things like : Idaho mom, salt lake city, Idaho falls, etc.&lt;br /&gt;It's actually quite entertaining  and it gives me some ideas of things going on and things to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news - Buddy took his first steps on Sunday.  John &amp;amp; I were taking a nap and Mike was watching him.  With the help of his lawnmower (a b-day gift from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;gma&lt;/span&gt;) he took a couple of steps - by himself.  Of course when we woke up and Mike tried to show us, Buddy was uncooperative.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are SO lucky to have Mike nearby.  He has been filling in almost every day - either when we're both at work, running errands, or just need an extra two hands at church.  And Buddy, of course, loves his "favorite" :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our regular sitter quit a month ago (got pregnant &amp;amp; was having fainting spells).  We've been searching our ward, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;craigslist&lt;/span&gt;, and other online searches.  I'm working 3 days a week now for insurance and trying to get my bod into shape for the weddings &amp;amp; my h.s. reunion this August - which puts a strain on our family, but I'm lucky enough to have a good support system (Buddy even went to ID a couple of weeks ago to be with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;gma&lt;/span&gt; because we couldn't find a sitter).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I'm not away - Buddy and I try to get some exploring done (in between housework and naps).  It's hard to believe that we've lived here for 3+ years and I haven't seen some of the common sites.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than that - we're loving the weather and try to count our blessings every day.&lt;br /&gt;Until next time..... blog stalk someone new today.  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-6147489156978118634?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/6147489156978118634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=6147489156978118634' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/6147489156978118634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/6147489156978118634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2009/06/random-i-know.html' title='random, I know'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-4365331598237908664</id><published>2009-06-07T15:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-07T15:33:38.867-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Finding my Happy Place</title><content type='html'>On Friday I decided that the park was my new happy place.  We went just after a rain storm and it wasn't crowded at all.  There were 2 girls taking their senior pics there, a couple people using the free wi-fi, an older gentleman with a bag full of bread feeding the birds, a family, and us.  &lt;div&gt;I brought two pieces of old bread and we found that there are three families of ducks that have ducklings.  There is also a group of teenage ducks (who look like large ducklings).  Buddy loved that the birds would come closer to us because we had food.  Eventually the geese &amp;amp; some seagulls saw us and came over to wreck the party with the ducks, but we fed them a couple of little bites anyway.  I tried to get Buddy to feed the birds but apparently he doesn't understand that you are supposed to throw the piece of bread, not eat it.  (Next time I'll bring enough for him and to feed some birds).  We also explored the little dock they have and Buddy thought it was cool that the birds could swim underneath us and appear on the other side.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So although we have to drive to get there, I decided that despite the smell of bird feces - the park is going to be where we will go whenever we need a break from life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-4365331598237908664?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/4365331598237908664/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=4365331598237908664' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/4365331598237908664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/4365331598237908664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2009/06/finding-my-happy-place.html' title='Finding my Happy Place'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-8175517826171042761</id><published>2009-06-03T12:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-03T12:46:00.241-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='parenthood'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weather'/><title type='text'>When it rains, it pours....</title><content type='html'>I love summer rain showers.  To me there is nothing better than the smell of the earth cooling off after a warm day or the smell of wet sage brush (John can't smell either - he thinks it just smells like wet dog everywhere).&lt;br /&gt;The last three days we have had it rain on and off.&lt;br /&gt;Last night Buddy and I got caught in a storm while driving home (the whole 3 blocks) from the church.  It was pouring so hard - I was amazed that much could come down all at once.  So we ran from our car to the apartment.  Buddy was breathing really fast and a little freaked out.  "Mom, why are we taking a shower: with our clothes on, outside, and in cold water.  I'm confused."&lt;br /&gt;Once in our apartment, we were soaked.  But he looked so cute (I'll upload pics later).  Then I opened the windows and helped him climb up on the top of the futon and he watched in fascination as it continued to pour (with thunder and lightening) for over 5 minutes.  He loved it!  He was banging on the screen and then he would look at me for reassurance,  just darling.&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say with all the emotional raining that I have been feeling in my life, running 10 feet in the rain did my heart good.  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-8175517826171042761?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/8175517826171042761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=8175517826171042761' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/8175517826171042761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/8175517826171042761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2009/06/when-it-rains-it-pours.html' title='When it rains, it pours....'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-2469905258842364204</id><published>2009-06-03T12:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-03T12:35:47.744-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='seriously?'/><title type='text'>"Yes dispatcher, I'd like to report a disturbance"</title><content type='html'>Just the other day I was telling my mom that if we move, I'd kindof miss city life.  Mainly I realized that I'd miss the ease of public transport as well as the awesomeness of our library (I can request DVDs &amp;amp; books online - the librarians will pull them for me and e-mail me when they are avaliable for me to pick up at the front desk). &lt;br /&gt;Last night I realized that despite those two awesome things (as well as the great people we've met here), I will not miss the city.&lt;br /&gt;At 2:00 a.m. we were awakened by loud, drunk people singing "Happy Birthday."  At first it was from the building next door (because the two buildings are so close) - but NO.  It was from clear across the street.  So I googled the police department (since 911 is for emergencies, not reporting noise violations) and called them.  The dispatcher said she would send someone over.&lt;br /&gt;I put in my ear plugs, said a prayer that Buddy wouldn't be awakened, and said good night for the second time to John.&lt;br /&gt;At 4:30 a.m. John got up to go to his new job and Buddy woke up for an early breakfast.  While feeding him I'm pretty sure (admist the shouting from the same people) I heard a door slam and then a gun shot.  I walked Buddy back to his crib (and finished rocking him to sleep in his room).  I didn't call the cops the second time, figuring that one complaint per night is my limit.  I guess if someone or something was shot - maybe the drunk people and the cops will learn a lesson.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-2469905258842364204?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/2469905258842364204/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=2469905258842364204' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/2469905258842364204'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/2469905258842364204'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2009/06/yes-dispatcher-id-like-to-report.html' title='&quot;Yes dispatcher, I&apos;d like to report a disturbance&quot;'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-8858116966385441155</id><published>2009-05-27T19:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T19:53:00.977-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='from Buddy'/><title type='text'>Helping Mommy</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;I just thought I would let you guys know that I am becoming such a good helper to Mom &amp;amp; Dad.  I'm really good at helping with laundry - I make sure all the clothes that are in the basket come out and I collect socks and take them away from the matching pile to somewhere else in the house.  I'm helping with dishes in the dishwasher the same way and I'm the official inspector of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Tupperware&lt;/span&gt; and pans.  I make sure the ones in the cupboard are clean by taking them out and putting them on the floor so they get a double trip in the dishwasher.  I'm trying to help with garbage but Mommy &amp;amp; Daddy reserve that fun job for themselves (and always catch me before I can help).  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today was different though.  Mommy was really grouchy and so when she got home from work, I suggested we go to a park that she's wanted to go to for a long time.  We picked up Crazy bread and pizza and took a picnic to a special park.  It was HUGE guys!  There were a ton of people, trees, dogs, and birds.  After we finished eating we went for a stroller ride around part of the park and we saw so many awesome things.  My favorite had to be the birds.  At this park they have this big pond and there are geese and seagulls and sparrows and ducks.  We saw a family of ducks (with little baby ones) and I tried to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;convince&lt;/span&gt; Mom that I needed to get closer so I could show them how to splash in the water - but she said that it was dirty.  But it was still really cool.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tomorrow I'll post some pictures on our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Picasa&lt;/span&gt; site.  For now it's getting late (and I didn't have very good naps today at the sitters, so I'm tired).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Loves &amp;amp; Slobbers,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Buddy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-8858116966385441155?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/8858116966385441155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=8858116966385441155' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/8858116966385441155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/8858116966385441155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2009/05/helping-mommy.html' title='Helping Mommy'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-9086089444195887355</id><published>2009-04-26T18:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-26T18:04:55.651-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='from Buddy'/><title type='text'>So Cool</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Hey !&lt;div&gt;Guess what I did today?  I actually drank out of my sippy cup.  I've been playing with it for a while now - but mostly I've just gotten really wet.  But today at dinner I tipped it up &amp;amp; drank from the right part &amp;amp; it was amazing.  Water came into my mouth.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway.... really cool.  Oh, and don't forget to check out our picasa album to keep up with all that I'm doing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/SfUEfbzPObI/AAAAAAAAC2Q/y__5R2qAPdg/s200/IMG_0975.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329170672147970482" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Love you all,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Buddy&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-9086089444195887355?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/9086089444195887355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=9086089444195887355' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/9086089444195887355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/9086089444195887355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2009/04/so-cool.html' title='So Cool'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/SfUEfbzPObI/AAAAAAAAC2Q/y__5R2qAPdg/s72-c/IMG_0975.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-8099259589502082934</id><published>2009-04-01T09:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-01T09:42:52.507-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weather'/><title type='text'>It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas...</title><content type='html'>except there's 8 more months until it comes.&lt;br /&gt;I'll try to be good until then, but no guarantees.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least I can see some grass pointing out and it doesn't look like this:&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/SdOZVrvnduI/AAAAAAAAC00/ANF30QSoQ5c/s1600-h/snowhouse.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 138px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/SdOZVrvnduI/AAAAAAAAC00/ANF30QSoQ5c/s200/snowhouse.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5319764182653433570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-8099259589502082934?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/8099259589502082934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=8099259589502082934' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/8099259589502082934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/8099259589502082934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2009/04/its-beginning-to-look-lot-like.html' title='It&apos;s beginning to look a lot like Christmas...'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/SdOZVrvnduI/AAAAAAAAC00/ANF30QSoQ5c/s72-c/snowhouse.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-4097928695542050260</id><published>2009-03-27T09:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-27T09:16:54.637-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='motherhood'/><title type='text'>Two new job roles</title><content type='html'>Along with my other responsibilities, I realized that I have two new job roles.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Fast food server&lt;/b&gt;: This morning Buddy didn't want to eat much of his breakfast.  As usual, he had "too many things to get into."  So after trying to feed him, cleaning him up, and letting him crawl away for the second time (I allowed 15 minutes or so in between for me to get breakfast); Buddy crawled over to where his baby food is stored.  On one of the shelves above the cupboard, there was a container of peas.  He proceeded to try to feed himself by biting the lid and banging the container on the ground.  So I said "ok" and we put his bib on and opened the peas.  At this point I was beyond enforcing the rule of eating only in the highchair, so I proceeded to sit on the floor and feed him.  He would take a quick bite, crawl away to some other part of the kitchen, and come back a minute later for another bite.  This proceeded until he was "done" (with 1/2 the container still left) and he started his usual spitting.  At least I got some more calories in him.  Apparently he is concerned about gaining weight so he's devised this new system of literally eating on the run.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;b&gt;Pro wrestler&lt;/b&gt; :   For a while now Buddy has started rolling when I'm trying to get a clean diaper on him.  Once I get the diaper on him I usually move us to the twin bed where I try to do up his snaps &amp;amp; get his pants back on.  He prefers to crawl to the top of the bed (aka pillow mountain) or anywhere he can try to escape the evil mom, whose goal it is to not have her son be a streaker at the age of nine months.  Over the last couple weeks, John &amp;amp; I have realized that sometimes we have to pin him down (with his arms under our legs) in order to get him dressed.  It gets a little tiring after the fourth or fifth time in a day.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So in addition to all the roles that motherhood brings each of us, you can add pro wrestler and fast food server to your resume.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-4097928695542050260?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/4097928695542050260/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=4097928695542050260' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/4097928695542050260'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/4097928695542050260'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2009/03/two-new-job-roles.html' title='Two new job roles'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-682618767539224973</id><published>2009-03-22T23:08:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-22T23:12:44.169-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Isn't it ironic?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;One day (Saturday) I felt so sad and depressed about being sick, our apartment, and basically anything else that came up.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Right now (after just feeding Buddy his midnight snack and putting him back to bed), I feel like the luckiest girl.  I have a sweet (but still sick) husband, whom I love and does everything for me.  And I have a little boy, whom I love and would do anything for.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Good night!  I know I"ll have sweet dreams. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-682618767539224973?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/682618767539224973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=682618767539224973' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/682618767539224973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/682618767539224973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2009/03/isnt-it-ironic.html' title='Isn&apos;t it ironic?'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-7509754987500583081</id><published>2009-03-20T16:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-20T17:09:31.526-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring has Sprung....</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Today I'm sick.  Well we're all sick here at our house and we got it from Buddy (who has had the cough &amp;amp; runny nose for almost a week now).  I don't like being sick (or when anyone else in my house is sick).  It's hard to do anything and my patience level goes down.  This morning I was pretty down.  John went back to work (after calling off sick yesterday) and it was hard to be home alone (except for my ever present shadow - Buddy).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Buddy found a new game called the Magic Kleenex box.  "Look Mom!  I pull one out and another one pops up in its place." When I shoved the "magic" kleenexes back into the box (and they didn't come out as easy) Buddy came up with another game.  "Look Mom!  I can pull one out and rip it into a lot of little pieces.  And they cover the floor.  How fun."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Around eleven, I finally got him down for a nap and was able to take a short nap myself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This afternoon I decided since I was sick that I would purge.  No, not throw up.  Purge my scrapbook supplies (and clean Buddy's room).  Yes I know, most people take it easy when they're sick.  I don't know why I started but it took the whole afternoon.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I must get the Crazy Award today. I'd like to thank the makers of generic Dayquil for reducing the fluid in my head so I was able to get out of bed.  Also the people who built my apartment building, with the closet so tiny half my wardrobe is out in the open.  And last but not least... I'd like to thank Buddy for being my constant shadow who "helped" me all day long.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/ScQsHaYASnI/AAAAAAAAC0g/vlQrs3phpaY/s1600-h/IMG_0809.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/ScQsHaYASnI/AAAAAAAAC0g/vlQrs3phpaY/s200/IMG_0809.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315421966054738546" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-7509754987500583081?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/7509754987500583081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=7509754987500583081' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/7509754987500583081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/7509754987500583081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2009/03/spring-has-sprung.html' title='Spring has Sprung....'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/ScQsHaYASnI/AAAAAAAAC0g/vlQrs3phpaY/s72-c/IMG_0809.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-6397151117448472955</id><published>2009-03-17T10:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-20T17:11:49.161-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Baby, I'm the Lucky One</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/ScQwjaW6sOI/AAAAAAAAC0o/aJCXbzWqVMs/s1600-h/IMG_0807.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/ScQwjaW6sOI/AAAAAAAAC0o/aJCXbzWqVMs/s200/IMG_0807.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5315426845133025506" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are home.  It's hard to come home after such a great vacation.  It's even harder when John &amp;amp; I are starting to feel ucky (from Buddy's germs) and when we accidentally sleep in until 10 minutes before we have to leave for the airport.  But we made our flight with minutes to spare (we were the second to last family on board) and only forgot the camera and the stroller back at gma's &amp;amp; gpa's (it's ok because gma is coming to visit in a couple of weeks).&lt;br /&gt;Buddy slept for about 20 minutes of the flight, which was nice because that was 20 minutes we didn't have to entertain him.  It also wasn't as crowded so we got to have an empty seat between us for Buddy to climb on.&lt;br /&gt;It was a little weird though to see people ordering beer on a 6:50 a.m. flight, but then John found the menu card that said the airlines was offering one complimentary beer on St. Patrick's Day.  I guess some people feel they need to start off the day with a drink in order to get through it. Weird.&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Hope everyone has a wonderful day full of leprechauns and gold!&lt;br /&gt;I feel very "lucky" to have all of my family and I love you all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-6397151117448472955?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/6397151117448472955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=6397151117448472955' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/6397151117448472955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/6397151117448472955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2009/03/baby-im-lucky-one.html' title='Baby, I&apos;m the Lucky One'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/ScQwjaW6sOI/AAAAAAAAC0o/aJCXbzWqVMs/s72-c/IMG_0807.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-1496814121015078554</id><published>2009-03-15T14:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-15T14:56:07.804-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='motherhood'/><title type='text'>Sunday - always an adventure</title><content type='html'>For the past month now, I've been struggling to feel the spirit at church.  Maybe its because I have a ten month old who won't stay still (or quiet) for more than ten minutes (unless he is asleep).  I've even thought of posting a countdown until nursery (but then it's like I'm wishing Buddy's childhood away).  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well today, while out in the hall for the second time during sacrament meeting (John took him out one time too), a song popped into my head.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;"Jesus once was a little child, a little child like me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I began to wonder. We know Jesus once was a baby, a toddler, a child, a teenager, and eventually an adult - that he went through most of the stages of a mortal life.  But since He was perfect, did that mean that He wasn't a rambunctious toddler during church?  I asked my sister-in-law and she solved my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;dilemma&lt;/span&gt;.  She said (very matter of fact): They didn't have three hour church back in Jesus' time.  I liked that!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-1496814121015078554?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/1496814121015078554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=1496814121015078554' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/1496814121015078554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/1496814121015078554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2009/03/sunday-always-adventure.html' title='Sunday - always an adventure'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-3514111876796686054</id><published>2009-03-14T23:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-14T23:23:05.451-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='from Buddy'/><title type='text'>Note from Buddy</title><content type='html'>Hey guys!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am having an amazing time the last couple of days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to the doctor on Thursday and the pediatrician said I have another double ear infection (and still have my nasty cough).  Also, I need to eat more table food - so SCORE!  I now get to eat everything Mom &amp;amp; Dad eat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We took an airplane to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;gma&lt;/span&gt; &amp;amp; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;gpa&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;fitch's&lt;/span&gt; house.  I didn't mind take off and landing hardly at all.  The thing that really bugged me was having to sit on Mom &amp;amp; Dad's lap for almost two hours.  No crawling or walking around - I got SO bored.  I was even trying to get the guy sitting next to my mom to play with me (but he only wanted to play with his &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ipod&lt;/span&gt;).  Oh &amp;amp; I had a huge stinky right as we were landing - ha ha.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got to grandma's it was a little different but starting Friday - I got to meet some more of my cousins &amp;amp; boy are they awesome!  We play with the toys &amp;amp; I follow them around.  It's just so much fun, I don't want to go to sleep because I might miss something.  Mom doesn't really understand  and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;kind of&lt;/span&gt; gets frustrated with me when I want to skip my naps or play all night (I've even tried waking up in the middle of the night but Mom insists that I go back to bed).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight we had an awesome wedding / party.  My Uncle Evan &amp;amp; Aunt Ty got married and it was really cool. My dad was up front with all his brothers (as groomsmen) and I wanted to go up there too.  My mom kept saying "No" and wouldn't let me crawl up there.  So I decided that I would add my own two cents and shout during the ceremony.  Mom was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;embarrassed&lt;/span&gt;, but everybody laughed so it turned out &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;.  Then we had a dinner with vegetables and bread and I even got to try prime rib (it was awesome).  I didn't try the fish, my mom didn't think I would like it.  After dinner they had toasting (whatever that is) and then dancing.  It was fun to dance with the bride (Aunt Ty), my cousins, and my mom and dad.  Dad was really dancing a lot - he's funny.&lt;br /&gt;We all had a really fun time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I guess I better get some sleep (to make my mom &amp;amp; dad happy and so I can have enough energy for church tomorrow).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you everybody - &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;screech&lt;/span&gt; at you soon!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Buddy&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-3514111876796686054?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/3514111876796686054/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=3514111876796686054' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/3514111876796686054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/3514111876796686054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2009/03/note-from-buddy.html' title='Note from Buddy'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-3750041961006980957</id><published>2009-03-02T17:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-02T17:12:54.920-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Today is my best day ever...... well maybe not.</title><content type='html'>Well, today wasn't the best day.  But on my walk home (I'll get to that later) I decided to post about all the good things that happened today.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1.  I woke up on time (thanks to the building fire alarm going off at 6:30&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;ish&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;2.  I was able to get Buddy's "love marks" off of my black shirt I wore yesterday and wear it again today.  And my boss said I looked nice.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3.  I caught the train.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4.  I have a job AND it pays me on time (every two weeks - just like clock work).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5. My 401K has made SOME money (although &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;IHC&lt;/span&gt; isn't matching anymore and the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;stock market&lt;/span&gt; is down the toilet.  I looked it up and switched it so that most of my $ goes into a money market account now and thanks to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;IHC's&lt;/span&gt; contributions all of last year, I didn't "lose" any of the money I contributed.) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;5.  I was able to get my exercise in before I came home to my boys. (The power line for the train broke.  My workout buddy had to cancel on me.  So I decided to forfeit John's offer of a ride and walk - even though I was in a skirt &amp;amp; thigh-highs.)  I also took a different route home and saw new neighborhoods and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;crocuses&lt;/span&gt; blooming!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now I just need to get a sitter so I can switch my work day to tomorrow &amp;amp; hopefully I can leave for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Burley&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; early!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-3750041961006980957?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/3750041961006980957/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=3750041961006980957' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/3750041961006980957'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/3750041961006980957'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2009/03/today-is-my-best-day-ever-well-maybe.html' title='Today is my best day ever...... well maybe not.'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-8906386960389920868</id><published>2009-02-28T12:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-28T12:12:14.561-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='training'/><title type='text'>Super Saturday</title><content type='html'>It was Michelle &amp;amp; my first time training outside today.  We walked 3 1/2 miles!  A small victory since we didn't really know how far we could go outside (but we had to walk back to her car so we were kind of forced into it) and what the difference would be from the treadmill.  We've been going to the gym now for over a year and we decided that this year we would walk /jog the Salt Lake City half-marathon.  So today was the first of many outside sessions and it was a great accomplishment (which we celebrated by getting a donut - I know counter productive in the calorie factor but a reward none the less).  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I came home, Buddy came right up to me and gave me a big hug.  I really like my little shadow when I've been away from him for a while (it's kind of annoying when we've been home together all day and he insists on being held or carried all the time).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's a really nice day today and we're going to go for a drive (to Men's Warehouse so John can get fitted for a tux).  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, I also saw some tulips (maybe) sticking out of the ground and pinwheels out in people's yards - so spring is definitely on it's way!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-8906386960389920868?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/8906386960389920868/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=8906386960389920868' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/8906386960389920868'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/8906386960389920868'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2009/02/super-saturday.html' title='Super Saturday'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-4175015632176318470</id><published>2009-02-23T12:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T13:06:46.949-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ecuador trip'/><title type='text'>If the tap water isn't safe to drink, then why are the airlines better?</title><content type='html'>I was reading a &lt;a href="http://blogs.moneycentral.msn.com/topstocks/archive/2009/02/23/us-airways-returns-to-free-drinks-for-all.aspx"&gt;story&lt;/a&gt; today about United Airlines and also thinking about our Southwest flight we are taking in a month or so; and it reminded me about the difference in North American &amp;amp; South American airlines (of course I'm talking coach class here, I've never ridden first class in my life).&lt;br /&gt;In North America we now have to pay for security taxes, fuel surcharge taxes, each bag we check, and sometimes even to print a paper ticket. For that money you get long lines, security checks where you have to take off your shoes and belts, tiny (sometimes &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;claustrophobicly&lt;/span&gt; so) seats, a used airline magazine (or a movie - free if your lucky, Delta coming home charged for anything but sitcoms), a cup of something to drink and a sample size bag of crackers (or peanuts).&lt;br /&gt;In South America you have to pay for flight taxes (when you leave a country) in cash at the airport (they kindly provide an ATM next to the line location), and you have to pay extra for your bag if it exceeds the weight limit (but none of ours ever did). For that money you get shorter lines (yes even the customs line in Miami was longer than in Guayaquil), easier security (no taking off shoes and a lot shorter lines), same size seats as in North America, magazines (or on LAN they had personal consoles that had free movies &amp;amp; free games - John &amp;amp; I played battleship &amp;amp; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;tetris&lt;/span&gt;), a cup of something to drink and a full size sandwich.&lt;br /&gt;On our trip we flew from Salt Lake to Atlanta to Miami, Guayaquil to Quito, Quito back to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Guyaquil&lt;/span&gt;, Guayaquil to Lima, Lima to Cuzco, Cuzco back to Lima, Lima back to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Guyaquil&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Guyaquil&lt;/span&gt; to Miami to Atlanta to Salt Lake. (yeah too bad we didn't fly the same airline or rack up any frequent &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;flyer&lt;/span&gt; miles.) I just found it interesting that I found the trips in South America a lot more pleasant than those in U.S. (or those that I have taken in U.S. over the span of my lifetime).&lt;br /&gt;Of course I'm glad that there are security precautions and that I can afford to fly, but I'm glad I don't have to very often. I also found it sad that the majority of the people who live in South America will probably never set foot on an airplane because they can barely afford clean water to drink. :S&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-4175015632176318470?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/4175015632176318470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=4175015632176318470' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/4175015632176318470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/4175015632176318470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2009/02/if-tap-water-isnt-safe-to-drink-then.html' title='If the tap water isn&apos;t safe to drink, then why are the airlines better?'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-3759139776242175187</id><published>2009-02-15T19:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T17:03:14.308-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Catch Up</title><content type='html'>No my new years resolution is not to stop blogging.  I've just been busy and well Buddy has learned to crawl, so I spend most of my free time chasing him around the house saying "No, you can't put that in your mouth."     &lt;div&gt;So to catch up:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Ecuador / Peru trip was awesome - gave me plenty of material to blog about (but another reason I haven't blogged recently is because I've become facinated with the Incas and I'm reading as much as I can about them - I think I might start writing historical fiction about them).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;We've stopped looking for a house (well we stopped about 4 months ago).  &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Our Wii motor is sounding funny so it's going in for repairs after this weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I vacuum the floor at least once a day due to my live vacuum.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;We spent valentines day moving the furniture &amp;amp; scrubbing the kitchen floors.  Then the three of us went out to a Mexican restaurant to eat.  Which turned out to be a big mistake today - I changed Buddy's outfit two times due to our dinner and the fact that he is on antibiotics for his double ear infections. :S YUCK.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Mike is up here visiting and helping.  Buddy loves his uncle/roommate.  Someone else to do his bidding and climb on.  Tonight while John &amp;amp; I  cleaned up dinner (yummy roast, potatoes, and gravy) Mike gave Buddy a bath (and got splashed on a lot).  We're excited for him to graduate and hopefully move closer.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;And that's about it (ok that is pushing it for "news" - especially the Wii part).  See, you didn't miss anything much while I was on blogging hiatus. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-3759139776242175187?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/3759139776242175187/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=3759139776242175187' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/3759139776242175187'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/3759139776242175187'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2009/02/catch-up.html' title='Catch Up'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-6260866351983909804</id><published>2009-01-27T15:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T15:46:22.977-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Buddy + Electronics = BAD NEWS</title><content type='html'>My phone has finally died.  After letting Buddy play with it a couple of times it has stopped functioning. :(&lt;div&gt;Anyone have an extra Sprint phone that I can have?  I guess it's time for Craigslist.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Got to go - he's reaching for the computer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-6260866351983909804?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/6260866351983909804/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=6260866351983909804' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/6260866351983909804'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/6260866351983909804'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2009/01/buddy-electronics-bad-news.html' title='Buddy + Electronics = BAD NEWS'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-4447971504429882759</id><published>2009-01-14T17:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-23T13:07:12.879-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ecuador trip'/><title type='text'>KFC's Everywhere!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;We&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;will&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;be&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;posting&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;specific&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;details&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;from&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;our&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;fabulous&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;vacation&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;later&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;but&lt;/span&gt; I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;just&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;wanted&lt;/span&gt; to take a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;minutes&lt;/span&gt; &amp;amp; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;say&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;we&lt;/span&gt; are &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;having&lt;/span&gt; a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;fabuluous&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;time&lt;/span&gt;. John &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;pointed&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;out&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;there&lt;/span&gt; are &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;KFC&lt;/span&gt;'s &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;everywhere&lt;/span&gt; (like &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;every&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_28"&gt;other&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_29"&gt;street&lt;/span&gt;) &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_30"&gt;here&lt;/span&gt; in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_31"&gt;the&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_32"&gt;city&lt;/span&gt;. It's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_33"&gt;interesting&lt;/span&gt; to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_34"&gt;see&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_35"&gt;how&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_36"&gt;American&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_37"&gt;culture&lt;/span&gt; (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_38"&gt;specifically&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_39"&gt;fast&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_40"&gt;food&lt;/span&gt;) &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_41"&gt;has&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_42"&gt;influenced&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_43"&gt;Ecuador&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-4447971504429882759?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/4447971504429882759/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=4447971504429882759' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/4447971504429882759'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/4447971504429882759'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2009/01/kfcs-everywhere.html' title='KFC&apos;s Everywhere!'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-4689971542345417108</id><published>2009-01-11T21:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-11T21:05:14.769-08:00</updated><title type='text'>You know you'll miss me</title><content type='html'>My Buddy is so sweet.  He was afraid that I would miss him too much, so this morning (around 6 ish I think) he puked all over me.  By the time I got him to sleep my pants had dried &amp;amp; my shirt was only a little damp, so I just went to sleep without changing.  &lt;div&gt;But I did cry when we did the exchange in Tremonton.  Hope you don't have too much fun without us, we love you!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-4689971542345417108?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/4689971542345417108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=4689971542345417108' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/4689971542345417108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/4689971542345417108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2009/01/you-know-youll-miss-me.html' title='You know you&apos;ll miss me'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-560934423765012205</id><published>2009-01-07T10:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T10:26:39.682-08:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='seriously?'/><title type='text'>What are they thinking?</title><content type='html'>I saw two things this morning that questioned my belief that most people think before they act:&lt;br /&gt;1.  Why would you (being a "big wig" who makes decisions like that) start construction on a sidewalk in the middle of winter (especially when there is a foot or more of snow on the ground)?&lt;br /&gt;2.  What is the purpose of high-heel pleather boots in January?  They can't provide much protection from the ice and snow.  And they can't be very safe either.  I guess I'm just not a fashionista.  I wear my practical snow boots and change into my flat dress shoes once I get to work.  I can' imagine the pain this lady had to go through just walking across the uncovered parking lot.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-560934423765012205?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/560934423765012205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=560934423765012205' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/560934423765012205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/560934423765012205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2009/01/what-are-they-thinking.html' title='What are they thinking?'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-5545635887512869627</id><published>2009-01-06T19:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-06T19:57:11.695-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mixed Emotions and Mixed Vegetables</title><content type='html'>For the last couple days I've been thinking a lot about our upcoming adventure and I've been feeling quite a umber of emotions.  On one hand I am SO excited at this once in a lifetime opportunity.  Not only will I get to see my in laws but we will get to visit many exotic and fascinating places.  On the other hand I will have to leave my baby for  along time and I've never been to a place where I don't speak the language (our honeymoon doesn't really count because that part of Mexico is basically California for tourists).  So I'm a little intimidated.&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;On a totally different account - today was interesting.  I was washing Buddy's blanket and apparently out little washer doesn't like doing that type of work, so it got off balance.  I let the rumbling continue (thinking the cycle would finish soon that the noise wouldn't hurt anyone) until I laid Buddy down for his nap (yes he found the rumbling a comforting source of white noise) and I noticed that I stepped in something wet.  We have a shelf above our stack able washer / dryer that I have our cleaners on.  Apparently the rumbling caused my bottle of Resolve to fall off, crack the plastic, and spill all over my carpet.  S0 now my house smells like Resolve and I have a spot on my carpet that is still wet (four hours later).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Buddy went to the doctor today and he gained weight!  Of course once he heard that this morning,  he decided that he could spit up as much as he wanted.  I'm on my third shirt for today.  We tried mixed vegetable and apparently Buddy's system doesn't agree with that compilation by Beech Nut.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ah, adventures in motherhood - aren't they grand?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/SWQmBVQsgII/AAAAAAAAB6Q/PbTCqCkH8UY/s200/IMG_0734.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288393666768699522" /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(Buddy getting ready for his bath, the spot, &amp;amp; one of my shirts with the infamous mixed vegetables spit on it)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-5545635887512869627?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/5545635887512869627/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=5545635887512869627' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/5545635887512869627'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/5545635887512869627'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2009/01/mixed-emotions-and-mixed-vegetables_06.html' title='Mixed Emotions and Mixed Vegetables'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/SWQmBVQsgII/AAAAAAAAB6Q/PbTCqCkH8UY/s72-c/IMG_0734.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-8763423934911375824</id><published>2008-12-31T20:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-31T20:31:50.702-08:00</updated><title type='text'>2008 was great!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Wrap up for 2008:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Buddy was born (after hours &amp;amp; hours of labor), became "Raptor Baby" as well as favorite in all the lives he touches with his smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;John was creative director for numerous (I'm talking a lot!) of projects at work &amp;amp; continues to help guide the YM in our ward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I started a facebook account, a blog, and a goodreads account. (yes I'm an internet junkie)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's about it - but it was great - We most enjoy the daily smiles / laughs that Buddy brings to us.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;For 2009 the look out looks just fine.  Every year my mom says "this will be your year."  And I believe it - if everything continues the way it is going - we will have a great year.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-8763423934911375824?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/8763423934911375824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=8763423934911375824' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/8763423934911375824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/8763423934911375824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2008/12/2008-was-great.html' title='2008 was great!!'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621594923409364095.post-6770806067014143263</id><published>2008-12-25T18:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-31T20:19:19.571-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's a Wonderful Life!</title><content type='html'>As I was laying in bed this morning (yes I was actually laying in bed still @ 7:30 a.m. - Buddy had woken up but went right back to sleep 2 or 3 times), I was just thinking how blessed I am this Christmas.  &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have a great husband - who cooks, helps me out with everything I ask him to (yeah - he made that Christmas card), and is a wonderful dad.  I know that no matter how crazy I am - he sticks with me and always will&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After three years of asking for him:  I have a cute cute baby.  What other present could I ask for? Sure he has his raptor moments and the spit up (and the subsequent &lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;loads&lt;/span&gt; of laundry) really gets on my nerves some day.  But he also makes me smile and laugh every day - which makes everything else that stresses me minimize.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And I have a testimony of our Savior Jesus Christ, whose birth we get to celebrate at this time of year.  I am so grateful for Him and everything that He has personally done for me.  Most of all what He has done so that I can be with my entire family throughout eternity.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I agree with a little saying my mom has in our house:  "Dear Santa, Thank you but I have everything I need."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7621594923409364095-6770806067014143263?l=oursmallmoments.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/feeds/6770806067014143263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7621594923409364095&amp;postID=6770806067014143263' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/6770806067014143263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7621594923409364095/posts/default/6770806067014143263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://oursmallmoments.blogspot.com/2008/12/its-wonderful-life.html' title='It&apos;s a Wonderful Life!'/><author><name>Becky</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/09646391181532038656</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_w0vJP5Xsnlw/S3eUqke65JI/AAAAAAAAEus/oh6iZd37a1k/S220/daisynapkin.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
