tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24971587329493988892024-03-14T01:54:39.663-05:00Lambie BlogA mommy blog documenting the journey into motherhood from pregnancy thru childbirth thru my highs and lows and every crazy detail in between. Life is too crazy, embarassing, and fun not to share it!Hilaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05092823553746648140noreply@blogger.comBlogger291125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497158732949398889.post-37464003284133605062015-02-23T21:03:00.002-06:002015-02-23T21:03:52.696-06:00Dancing DevynAh! I can't believe it's been over six months since my last post. So much has happened. I will have to catch up, but let's save that for another time.<br />
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Coincidentally, my post today is about Devyn and her first dance class (aside from my previous post this summer that was a four day princess ballet camp, of which Devyn was more princess and less ballerina). This school year she started going to a new preschool. and a dance teacher comes once a week during the day to do a combination ballet/tap class. <br />
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Last week parents were finally invited to attend a class for the girls to show off what they have learned. Her best friend was too shy (just like Devyn was this summer), but Devyn got out there anyways - without her partner in crime - and she was too cute.<br />
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Their first song was Colors of the Wind, from Pocahontas. </div>
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They had several others, Tarzan, Boogie Woogie Piggy and Billie Jean were all memorable.</div>
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The girls were so cute. I didn't know whether to cry at the sweetness of it all or just laugh at their antics while they were dancing. </div>
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For being the tiniest dancer (again!), she did an awesome job doing all the steps, watching her teacher for instructions, and smiling at us. It was the greatest moment of my week, watching her get out there and have a good time dancing. It brought back so many memories of growing up in a dance studio. </div>
<br />Hilaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05092823553746648140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497158732949398889.post-90007330536680141992014-07-29T21:49:00.003-05:002014-07-29T21:49:51.818-05:00the littlest princessThis summer the activity Devyn and I were both looking forward to so much was the Tippy Toes Princess Dance Camp at our church. Devyn hasn't entirely fallen in love with princesses. She likes them because Cade tells her that's what girls like. (HOW does my five year old know gender stereotypes?? Oh, the five year girls he hangs out with who are ob-sessed with princesses)<br />
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Up until the week of Devyn didn't own any ballerina clothes OR princess dresses. I took her to the local dance store and we picked out a blue leotard and blue tutu, tights, and a pink ballerina outfit. Day 1 she spreads lotion on her belly on her blue ballerina outfit two minutes before we were going to walk out the door. So we reverted back to the black and pink ballerina outfit....AND she was the ONLY little girl who came as a ballerina and not a princess. But she felt special. And isn't that the best? <br />
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The special feeling didn't last when we got in the door. Suddenly, homegirl became terrified. As in she was screaming and crying and begging me not to leave. The lead princesses told me she would be fine and assured me they would call me. They told me she was fine after a few minutes, but I died inside. Poor baby girl. <br />
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As the week went on she got a little more comfortable and enjoyed herself more and more each day. So when the final day came for the princess tea party that families were invited to, I was elated. I was so excited for my princess dream to come true and experience it all with my Devyn. The day before I took her to the mall to pick out her very first princess dress. She chose Cinderella. I was so excited about her choice. It is the most gorgeous choice. Sparkly blue over shiny blue satin. It's dreamy and she looks precious in it. (She didn't feel precious in it. It itches. I hated to teach my two year old that fashion is painful and we sometimes sacrifice for beauty. I didn't want her to sacrifice too much, so I let her wear the blue leotard underneath to minimize itchiness. She did refuse the bows and ribbons and flowers for her hair that I offered....bummmmer)<br />
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I dropped her off that morning and when I excitedly arrived with Grammie and Cade for the princess tea party, this is what I saw. <br />
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That little puddle of blue between Aurora and Belle is Mommy's little Cinderella. Not at ALL what I expected to see! At first she was being silly then I realized she was nervous and didn't know what to do in front of all the parents and grandparents. Stage fright?!</div>
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And the group pic. She was one of three crying. </div>
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One little sweetie refused to be in the picture.</div>
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The time came for them to dance. </div>
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And for Devyn to bail. </div>
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I sat with her on the edge of the dance floor, hugging her in my lap as she whimpered. </div>
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She refused to dance. My girl who will twirl all night at home refused to dance. Of course I was sad, and a bit mad at first because I really wanted to see her up there. After all, she was the only one dressed as Cinderella and she's clearly the most beautiful girl there. I was sad for her that she didn't want to. Then I caught sight of the other mommies whose daughters also refused to dance and were crying. They both looked pissed. Royally pissed off. I didn't want to be pissed. So instead, I held my girl and tried to encourage her without pressuring her. Then, I wanted to cheer on the other little girls. One girl, Belle, caught my eye. She was adorable and so happy. Then I realized she was 2 if not 3 years older than Devyn. My baby survived Princess Ballerina Camp. It was tough, but she did it. She was scared but she was calm and she participated and she did it. She even came home happy every day. I could be proud of that. I am damn proud of that. </div>
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And then, as we were leaving she was hanging behind. </div>
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Staring lovingly at Elsa. </div>
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I melted and I felt that joy. That joy of the magic of my daughter enjoying what I enjoy about princesses. Not that you have to be rich, or pretty, or marry the prince. But that you can be anything you want to be. You can dream bigger than yourself. You can overcome. You can find friendship and love doing whatever you want to do and being yourself. </div>
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So, gender sterotype that it may be, I'm happy to support her new love for princesses. </div>
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And when she sat on Elsa's lap and gave me that smile one of my dreams I had when she was still in my belly came true. To see my daughter and love her for everything she is and everything she will be. </div>
Hilaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05092823553746648140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497158732949398889.post-84628218307583732402014-06-29T10:05:00.000-05:002014-06-29T10:05:02.234-05:00Cade's 5th BirthdayTime to catch up on some posts from this spring! Cade is officially five years old, and completely head over heels obsessed with everything Transformer. We threw him a party at Metroplex Gym and had a total blast! Nick and I thought the place was so cool we might rent it out for my birthday this year! Foam pit, zip line, three indoor tree houses, slides, and trampolines? Yes, please!<br />
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This little boy has stolen my heart. </div>
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And I bet after seeing this pic he has stolen your heart as well. </div>
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And Optimus Prime has very clearly stolen his heart. </div>
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Ahhh, this boy!</div>
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His hats constantly do that to his little ears. Swoon!</div>
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He is infatuated. I worried about the day a girl would come and steal his heart, now I kind of know what that's like. <br />
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And there is Doodles' signature closed eye smile. <br />
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The sweet teenager who ran the party was amazing! He knew exactly what the kids would like and did a wonderful job of leading them through different activities. I was so impressed with how he motivated each of the kids (and even all of the little girls!) to do the zip line 9 foot drop off into a foam pit! I will never forget Audrey being so brave or McKenzie going for it in her denim mini-skirt. It brought tears to my eyes to see these kids be so brave and do something that would make me absolutely terrified! I loved every single minute of watching them zip line. </div>
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Cade's whole preschool class was invited along with some special family friends. </div>
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On his real birthday we had dinner at home with an Optimus Prime fighting Megatron cake. </div>
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The Target bakery delivered!!! </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB5y8X6beRE6VnvVgDSPkH9KpCBVFCqFG6PuHJkL_hfEnWu9iKkh2vZEpWMj0NRsvPov7tbivFoxyFxr3g2A0FWwEfAjqW1jNloPGJGrl4NWzuhNtcUaTFhZNO4twp2rOcJngGe3tvQXw/s1600/Cade5Bday-007.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB5y8X6beRE6VnvVgDSPkH9KpCBVFCqFG6PuHJkL_hfEnWu9iKkh2vZEpWMj0NRsvPov7tbivFoxyFxr3g2A0FWwEfAjqW1jNloPGJGrl4NWzuhNtcUaTFhZNO4twp2rOcJngGe3tvQXw/s1600/Cade5Bday-007.JPG" height="320" width="213" /></a></div>
Cade blowing out his candles. I can't believe he's a real little boy. <br />
I always sound like Pinnochio when I say that, but I remember holding this teeny tiny baby and talking to him in my tummy the moment I got that positive pregnancy test, and now here he is. A real live five year old! <br />
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And here are some of his favorite things:<br />
<br />
Favorite restaurant: McDonald's<br />
Favorite color: Green<br />
Favorite tv show: Autobots<br />
Best friend: I think Mommy<br />
Favorite friend from school: Quinn<br />
Favorite place to go: Swimming at a pool<br />
Favorite ice cream flavor: Mint chocolate chip<br />
Favorite breakfast food: Toast<br />
Favorite dinner food: Breakfast for dinner<br />
Favorite candy: ice cream <br />
Favorite song on the radio: "Baby you're a song that makes me wanna roll my window down and cruise"<br />
Favorite toy: Autobots and my video game<br />
Favorite movie: Despicable Me<br />
Hilaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05092823553746648140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497158732949398889.post-50367401487394721012014-06-24T22:56:00.001-05:002014-06-24T22:56:16.840-05:00My girlOh Devyn. You have no idea how much I love you. You are always surprising me with what you know at just two and half years old. I can't describe it all or do my love for you justice, so I will make a list.<div><br></div><div>1. The way you play dress up. Your creativity knows no bounds. Pink goggles, birdie panties, and a battle axe. Of course!<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEingIf_KzeW6ZkP4uBHwMKzYR6kyWa2qOY_nzCFn5qLQt0PSAjvwbHUI6sBpZZ0dKe4JOOHYsC12ElbLhzHKz9mLG6OOikqwou1tyEMtUv8ryhzwOsu35AYQnls2TwUgJI9lVQj6aNaQFo/s640/blogger-image-42746433.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEingIf_KzeW6ZkP4uBHwMKzYR6kyWa2qOY_nzCFn5qLQt0PSAjvwbHUI6sBpZZ0dKe4JOOHYsC12ElbLhzHKz9mLG6OOikqwou1tyEMtUv8ryhzwOsu35AYQnls2TwUgJI9lVQj6aNaQFo/s640/blogger-image-42746433.jpg"></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">2. You don't care at all about learning your colors. Everything else that is new information to you, you will repeat it once or twice and it sticks. But colors? You just don't care! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQD8M68j0fr6D0MAChyphenhyphenka0Ec27q324oexU-UxBz9qe3C1Snlu6HJsKLR7HnLvJ4qquK65bUQqQR4kx1d6tiVeML4IuYXYyQN3KJlc4HmgTcFtaKcZ68BWae-EGMfFGquf3rM-6ZxXGQd0/s640/blogger-image-2069024896.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQD8M68j0fr6D0MAChyphenhyphenka0Ec27q324oexU-UxBz9qe3C1Snlu6HJsKLR7HnLvJ4qquK65bUQqQR4kx1d6tiVeML4IuYXYyQN3KJlc4HmgTcFtaKcZ68BWae-EGMfFGquf3rM-6ZxXGQd0/s640/blogger-image-2069024896.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">3. Before bed Daddy and Cade eat a bite of turkey and do push ups. I guess it's a manly thing. But you dig it. You get your bite of turkey too and you do push-ups. You inspire me, so sometimes I do them too. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnzrFCycnA2NBKTUbWQ25RkGWlCh5hhVQ2RhUBZZDdbuovKJaMxH-xP194ETAXE0c56cf81rpWYi1BB216prCWrLFg_i66PLYD1izP7RXpiC7Vvf8suARsBjOSiGrOa6ZvH3C2FUd-ugc/s640/blogger-image-1208760089.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnzrFCycnA2NBKTUbWQ25RkGWlCh5hhVQ2RhUBZZDdbuovKJaMxH-xP194ETAXE0c56cf81rpWYi1BB216prCWrLFg_i66PLYD1izP7RXpiC7Vvf8suARsBjOSiGrOa6ZvH3C2FUd-ugc/s640/blogger-image-1208760089.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">4. I asked if you and Cade wanted to count Mommy's push-ups tonight and you flawlessly counted from 1 to 10 by yourself. When I cheered you smiled a little, but mostly acted like it was no big deal.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">5. Sometimes you make your blankie into a babushka. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFR1zPvrWIXVlifFEgt2V1t3Bm9hQxKvlyErCSbySXTbBhqUTIaGUf3RTlT2PPYmZXj1hJ1l4EgcgIdilNfzmiZS8HCBtHdEWAxmeCvwjN3pPB8Nowl3_l-35ZOCv_wbUeBufVPxX9Stk/s640/blogger-image-259458332.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFR1zPvrWIXVlifFEgt2V1t3Bm9hQxKvlyErCSbySXTbBhqUTIaGUf3RTlT2PPYmZXj1hJ1l4EgcgIdilNfzmiZS8HCBtHdEWAxmeCvwjN3pPB8Nowl3_l-35ZOCv_wbUeBufVPxX9Stk/s640/blogger-image-259458332.jpg"></a></div>6. You like Lucky Charms. Because it would be weird if you didn't. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">7. Your most loved babies lately are the shampoo and bath wash. Your most loved babies of all time are Daddy's vintage Hulk Hogan and Captain Lou. I kind of love it!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqz5AlKIOzrDcJd8SWGSIT6y15ukDyRrJZJRfBeUxov3h6U1XJRRVkm8TJq2-OZrn0db17bfgIKWA1mPCmaChsu1xbyBxumTQBxoYb0sQ61LnmQ5vT2IMJNuKkZ_NtQTrYkXh2pwXmJ9c/s640/blogger-image-1185195626.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqz5AlKIOzrDcJd8SWGSIT6y15ukDyRrJZJRfBeUxov3h6U1XJRRVkm8TJq2-OZrn0db17bfgIKWA1mPCmaChsu1xbyBxumTQBxoYb0sQ61LnmQ5vT2IMJNuKkZ_NtQTrYkXh2pwXmJ9c/s640/blogger-image-1185195626.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">8. You always want a good pupcake. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">9. Last week you wanted to be Fancy Dancy. My God, it stole my heart. And you accessorized with rain boots!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDRgFQLj2GYhccZTusJKLxgBNrhhn83WVPs3RbVFQ41elL73RCA7J6tItXBIAkw5nr5_YgqH4GIQlJsK4QDbdRRl3KK6_-C_DCiUpkYRqVWIT6EnHGQr0OZDCwuskcpiZ5p1uljrXGmNA/s640/blogger-image--471974239.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDRgFQLj2GYhccZTusJKLxgBNrhhn83WVPs3RbVFQ41elL73RCA7J6tItXBIAkw5nr5_YgqH4GIQlJsK4QDbdRRl3KK6_-C_DCiUpkYRqVWIT6EnHGQr0OZDCwuskcpiZ5p1uljrXGmNA/s640/blogger-image--471974239.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">10. You love to do the naked dance before your bath and then after the bath you run away from me when I try to put on your PJs. You are so fun loving but sometimes I'm tired and I really hate that when all I want is bedtime. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC_UrMfj7ENMHzjzEd240ZMhyphenhyphen0bIlfz1dSAYi5Xblrfl8sao7P3ooeX2oXeiuhLy3qngg7cOkQ1UWqbAiVbDkhrzGbxBtgvDn9Iv5NTaFAJ-20Nz-ERpHsd8As_-2PRw_BDsGCBh2eVIQ/s640/blogger-image--1337385008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC_UrMfj7ENMHzjzEd240ZMhyphenhyphen0bIlfz1dSAYi5Xblrfl8sao7P3ooeX2oXeiuhLy3qngg7cOkQ1UWqbAiVbDkhrzGbxBtgvDn9Iv5NTaFAJ-20Nz-ERpHsd8As_-2PRw_BDsGCBh2eVIQ/s640/blogger-image--1337385008.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div>11. When I tell you to look at the camera you do this:<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgevn5pTsActPOXIyVB53-goggRdqNPEyfyucvD2LXosoEHiRhJpP7OmhWk5fMwudFDSbDn5-M-HI7HFNtA0P4OK_5UwqM2Yqua21Gt-bFjfzrKkQveU8Gc4_SD3mehYJml1wWrbHZIbME/s640/blogger-image-96580839.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgevn5pTsActPOXIyVB53-goggRdqNPEyfyucvD2LXosoEHiRhJpP7OmhWk5fMwudFDSbDn5-M-HI7HFNtA0P4OK_5UwqM2Yqua21Gt-bFjfzrKkQveU8Gc4_SD3mehYJml1wWrbHZIbME/s640/blogger-image-96580839.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">12. You like to hold hands. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI0MLD96s84cuOjkVfoKXxR-B4Cs4gUm7QgtHKeXhvgTLiym-ogaiDA6WvRMR1y5j98TzZCTn2gVskTQfv_6CxhTjWBi9YIANlo8uDt6G5ziQBV6fCQyoX7F0Q_1AaV4cTwGW1Nvah5BM/s640/blogger-image-1471940397.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiI0MLD96s84cuOjkVfoKXxR-B4Cs4gUm7QgtHKeXhvgTLiym-ogaiDA6WvRMR1y5j98TzZCTn2gVskTQfv_6CxhTjWBi9YIANlo8uDt6G5ziQBV6fCQyoX7F0Q_1AaV4cTwGW1Nvah5BM/s640/blogger-image-1471940397.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Cade told you he loved you and said "I love you to the moon and back" and you said "I love you to moon and back too" and he kept saying it and you kept telling him you loved him too for a good 3 minutes. I don't know how I kept driving because my heart had melted.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">13. You can hang with the boys. Such a valuable skill, my girl!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_N4ijPAvOAT_EXPHa-0fJxp5lX1apTiFLWDKNA7a_AmZT-53IrDqCElieV3qVqYbdF6rq7c6WtqogIqy7HgJCi1rKP0_KTkcAUhjuICobLNfc2O8uuPM8cwgT0sjxCmy6aF8_3V3cOHg/s640/blogger-image-1237560692.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_N4ijPAvOAT_EXPHa-0fJxp5lX1apTiFLWDKNA7a_AmZT-53IrDqCElieV3qVqYbdF6rq7c6WtqogIqy7HgJCi1rKP0_KTkcAUhjuICobLNfc2O8uuPM8cwgT0sjxCmy6aF8_3V3cOHg/s640/blogger-image-1237560692.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">14. You hang on me. All around the house and in the pool you are my little monkey hanging on to momma. You wrap your arms around my neck and my legs around my waist and you crawl further up me as if you can't get enough and never have I ever felt so loved. <div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYxn0usKYZGQUwAt4dVeu4BXjaOVBxUWKvQDCGY8UtDPi93W5k0sKQVb_xkhFEi0Au9_qdvNB9ugccH8TKHbhvA1OiubCLZYnmURAfpFcW90sLg7f4ateylroXuE4bZgKw8meXWk8KFNU/s640/blogger-image-1312544085.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYxn0usKYZGQUwAt4dVeu4BXjaOVBxUWKvQDCGY8UtDPi93W5k0sKQVb_xkhFEi0Au9_qdvNB9ugccH8TKHbhvA1OiubCLZYnmURAfpFcW90sLg7f4ateylroXuE4bZgKw8meXWk8KFNU/s640/blogger-image-1312544085.jpg"></a></div></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">15. Most of all, you are a mystery. Who you will be as a girl, teenager and woman is yet to be. But I know you will do great things my love. You're my Devyn Doodles Cutie pie Apple of my Eye. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBe5OXoms5XJat9gOU4kJvDywJtjsZ8mkemsjqRg0bUYNV32NGN6Ej_sZ-6HO2g90DmCgOlzbSMwBMbbpZHDZ6FVDd8Eaxobe-zF9UD8XdGn2fEgmoMaIPgbX6544p-2RXN_VtmXq0Zro/s640/blogger-image-448399598.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBe5OXoms5XJat9gOU4kJvDywJtjsZ8mkemsjqRg0bUYNV32NGN6Ej_sZ-6HO2g90DmCgOlzbSMwBMbbpZHDZ6FVDd8Eaxobe-zF9UD8XdGn2fEgmoMaIPgbX6544p-2RXN_VtmXq0Zro/s640/blogger-image-448399598.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><br></div></div>Hilaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05092823553746648140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497158732949398889.post-14279235895376404302014-03-15T20:34:00.001-05:002014-03-15T20:34:18.232-05:00My girl<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0adzksnZh_InlislvU2X4vapZbwv4dxnFug2Si-n6InkceKSjJwSSpnIe0jXZuju5MBaUiH-2svbNUv94AXur9stGBFhPLBvztIDbxIrn_6emDi-atSef8BVQD7OeUwUgiTD5r9dj9sY/s640/blogger-image-1685791973.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0adzksnZh_InlislvU2X4vapZbwv4dxnFug2Si-n6InkceKSjJwSSpnIe0jXZuju5MBaUiH-2svbNUv94AXur9stGBFhPLBvztIDbxIrn_6emDi-atSef8BVQD7OeUwUgiTD5r9dj9sY/s640/blogger-image-1685791973.jpg"></a></div><br></div>In the car ride to pick up Chinese food for dinner...<div>Dev: I'm hungry</div><div>Me: I know, sweetie. We are going to go pick up dinner right now!</div><div>Dev: What we getting for dinner?</div><div>Me: Chicken and rice. </div><div>Dev: Oh, I don't like chicken rice. I like tacos and pupcakes!</div><div>Me: Tacos and cupcakes, together?</div><div>Dev: I like tacos and pupcakes*, both of 'em in my pummy!</div><div>Me: So yummy, so yummy in my tummy!</div><div>Dev: I eat tacos and pupcakes in my tummy make me Superman!</div><div>Me: I bet tacos and pupcakes make you strong like Superman! </div><div>Dev: Because I'm awesome! </div><div>Me: You are awesome! **laughing so much at the crazy cuteness of this convo** I love you!</div><div>Dev: .....tacos and pupcakes in my pummy make me awesome. I'm Superman!</div><div><br></div><div>*Translation Guide:</div><div>Pupcakes = cupcakes</div><div>Pummy = tummy</div><div>'Em = them, they</div><div><br></div><div>And some pics of her enjoying her fave activities: park & pupcakes!</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtk87UGudbyuYQhdM6_Lt3AwJUQPozxSf6pRuBDUUhRgG5raY3HfSN5Pca7-TB30Fy43DIiGEHRmxPoU6tTox1ON0ujSnMlXmWBScUNVmdfgmYVcl3KPZnpcIMbfSttLtYYJdxV8PCnWs/s640/blogger-image--945849822.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtk87UGudbyuYQhdM6_Lt3AwJUQPozxSf6pRuBDUUhRgG5raY3HfSN5Pca7-TB30Fy43DIiGEHRmxPoU6tTox1ON0ujSnMlXmWBScUNVmdfgmYVcl3KPZnpcIMbfSttLtYYJdxV8PCnWs/s640/blogger-image--945849822.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg543Z052QHKdbpzVYrIVE8Hn7Sqat4f_dF_UapuK2m6Amhs-UNw4urwqn3WnECl6TbS6MbzgSTeA1CeXI4c4TtqcuBw7cN38_O1gowzKCe7yt6Bd09ztWznSqTUyL2vstYUgIcN-nWGjU/s640/blogger-image-1863537176.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg543Z052QHKdbpzVYrIVE8Hn7Sqat4f_dF_UapuK2m6Amhs-UNw4urwqn3WnECl6TbS6MbzgSTeA1CeXI4c4TtqcuBw7cN38_O1gowzKCe7yt6Bd09ztWznSqTUyL2vstYUgIcN-nWGjU/s640/blogger-image-1863537176.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">We have been bribing potty training with the promise of pupcakes for going #2 in the potty. She had 4 successes in a row so I took them to The Original Cupcakery in Uptown. I had strawberry, Cade had carrot cake, and Dev had lemon with pink strawberry frosting. They were all beyond amazing and the best cupcakes I have ever had, but Dev's stole the show. It was amazing!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBzb-T2_yw_9KMCM7Z2zRak83g6btHkTQehRjEzuok1liPwNLlJp9t_WuMBWPKwqkjnl9x5fG-Js7UDSnvSask1-ERrwVRujEBPj4fQQ-4DKW0OCF-hXpUF7E3kmw02up8s-IDYDbiI60/s640/blogger-image-532533632.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBzb-T2_yw_9KMCM7Z2zRak83g6btHkTQehRjEzuok1liPwNLlJp9t_WuMBWPKwqkjnl9x5fG-Js7UDSnvSask1-ERrwVRujEBPj4fQQ-4DKW0OCF-hXpUF7E3kmw02up8s-IDYDbiI60/s640/blogger-image-532533632.jpg"></a></div>This child is beyond.... Love her and all her awesome Superman glory!</div><br></div><br></div><br></div><div><br></div>Hilaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05092823553746648140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497158732949398889.post-11570324479377249732014-01-23T19:57:00.001-06:002014-01-23T20:33:43.155-06:00Show Us Your Life - My friend AmyThis post is linked up to Kelly's Korner for her "Show Us Your Life " special Friday edition featuring single friends. In the previous Singles Edition there were 375 bloggers who posted about a single friend or friends, and 9 marriages so far from this link up! I love the idea of matchmaking, so if you have come across this blog and think Amy would be perfect for a friend, please share her email address or link, or leave their email address in the comments. It's good karma, right?!<br />
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Introducing.... my good friend Amy.<br />
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Amy and I met in high school working as hostesses at Island's. In our Hawaiian shirts, singing to Salt N Peppa, busing and wiping down tables, and crushing on the waiters that's how we bonded. Amy has always had the best laugh, quick sense of humor, and just always been an all around cool girl. She left for college a year before me and soon we found ourselves in Aggieland. But what happens in college stays in college, right?</div>
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After college we bonded over both having babies with helmets and our blogs. We bonded over both being mommies who "keep it real". We roll our eyes at the mommas who wear high heels to Klyde Warren Park, we laugh at our mommy fails, and we are brutally honest with each other about the reality of raising kids (the good, the bad, and the ugly). The gorgeous little girl pictured with her is Audrey, a brilliant & beautiful soul in a 5 year old's body. </div>
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Lets get down to it. Who is Amy?</div>
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<u>The classified ad</u>: 33/F/North Dallas/Christian</div>
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<u>The High Fidelity Top 5</u>:</div>
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1. Favorite restaurants: Gloria's & Chuy's</div>
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2. Favorite music: Texas country (Pat Green, Robert Earl Keene, Roger Creager)</div>
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3. Favorite movie: The Fugitive</div>
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4. Favorite football team: Texas Aggies</div>
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5. Favorite hobbies: Working out, Reading, Yoga, Watching football</div>
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<u>The Interview:</u></div>
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<span style="color: #333333;"><em>What are your favorite simple, random things?</em><span style="font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 20.79px;">a beautiful sunrise, an unprompted hug from my daughter, a good cup of coffee, sharing a laugh with a friend, and catching a green light :)</span></span></span></div>
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<em style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20.79px;">What's important to you in a relationship?</em><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20.79px;">LAUGHTER. I love being around others who share my sense of humor and love to laugh. I laugh easily and love others who also look for the humor in things. I also value honesty, a strong work ethic, and the ability to be grateful for what you have. Authenticity is also important to me and I look for others who value the relationships that they have in their lives. My faith in God is paramount in my life and I am looking to share my life with someone who has that same belief. </span><br />
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<em style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20.79px;">What kind of new things would you like to do or learn? </em><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 20.79px;">I love learning new ways to be active. I recently took up yoga and long distance running (not quite long distance yet, but getting there!). I love working out and finding new ways to challenge myself. I also love learning new recipes to cook. </span></span><br />
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<em style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20.79px;">What do you think about...</em><br />
<em style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20.79px;">Drinking:</em><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20.79px;"> I drink socially or sometimes at home after a long day… usually at least once a week. I have a good time, but keep it under control now that I’m older. </span><br />
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<em style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20.79px;">Smoking:</em><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20.79px;"> Yuck. Smoking of any kind and snuff/dip is a deal-breaker for me.</span><br />
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<em style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20.79px;">Dancing:</em><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20.79px;"> I like to dance, but I’m not great at it, and I know that!! But that doesn't stop me from dancing around the house with my daughter. I love to two step and dance to good music.</span><br />
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<em style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20.79px;">Hunting:</em><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20.79px;"> I’ve never been hunting, but I’m not opposed to it….just opposed to the hanging it in the house!</span><br />
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<em style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20.79px;">Working out:</em><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20.79px;"> I try to work out as much as possible. It may be hard to get there, but I feel great afterwards. I’m currently training for a 5K. </span><br />
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<em style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20.79px;">Spending time outdoors:</em><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20.79px;"> If it’s nice out I want to be outside. Whether it’s running, walking, eating, drinking, seeing a concert, floating the river, on a boat, whatever!</span><br />
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<em style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20.79px;">Education and Career:</em><span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20.79px;"> I received a Bachelor of Science degree in Elementary Education from Texas A&M. I currently teach 1st Grade and truly love my job. I look forward to going to work and teaching my precious kiddos every day.</span><br />
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<em style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial,Tahoma,Helvetica,FreeSans,sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 20.79px;">How important is religion to you?</em><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Arial, Tahoma, Helvetica, FreeSans, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 20.79px;">Very important. I have a very strong faith and go to church regularly. I was raised a Catholic, but am now a member of a Methodist church.</span></span><br />
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If you're interested in getting to know Amy or setting her up with a great guy in your life, please leave a comment with your email address or get it touch with her at her blog: <a href="http://theadamsfamily-amy.blogspot.com/">http://theadamsfamily-amy.blogspot.com/</a></div>
Hilaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05092823553746648140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497158732949398889.post-13517510721154101062014-01-23T19:22:00.002-06:002014-01-23T19:22:37.613-06:00#100happydaysCan you live 100 happy days?<br />
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2014 is all about accepting challenges and living my best life. So far I've started the transition to a Paleo diet (clean, healthy, gluten-free foods---- not hunting boars and cooking over fire), started the Couch to 5K program with fellow mommies who want to cross off Run a 5K from the Bucket List, and now live 100 happy days. In a row. Or at least find one happy moment and give it a little recognition once a day for 100 days. <br />
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Here is the site if you want to learn more about the challenge: <br />
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<a href="http://100happydays.com/">http://100happydays.com/</a><br />
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The creators of this site state that 71% of people failed this challenge, quoting lack of time as the reason. Really? Lack of time to snap an iPhone pic, pop an Instagram filter on it, and hashtag it? I sort of believe it. Even though it's kind of sad. Maybe you don't agree, maybe you think social media posting for 100 days is kind of sad. I like making connections with people. I don't like scrooges and fun-ruiners. I like a challenge. And I like a reward. At the end of 100 days they will send you a book of all 100 pics. Will they really? I'm not sure, and neither are 71% of people who tried this challenge. <br />
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Here are my first three happy days:<br />
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Baby girl looking fabulous at the tank park. </div>
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Making Batman pancakes late at night to surprise little man in the morning. </div>
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(Daddy forgot to pack them, so he got them the next day, when I showed them to him, all I got was an "uhhh....") </div>
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Tiny painted fingernails. </div>
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Hilaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05092823553746648140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497158732949398889.post-40992173761188242462014-01-07T21:29:00.001-06:002014-01-07T21:29:33.325-06:00Crazy BeautifulToday....wow. Super busy working mama day, then leaving work right away to pick up the kids and take them to the doctor to get Devyn's cough checked out. I knew our 4:00 appt followed by 5:00 Target run for meds & juice & training panties would make our otherwise normal night über busy. <div><br></div><div>When the dr came in I expected the tears to start, but Dev just laid back on the table like "Legs get his over with". She seriously was beyond just cooperative, she was charming. This wild child was all smiles and giggles and she kept looking at me and squinching up her nose & giving me high fives. Our pediatrician said this was the most awesome two year old check up ever. I almost felt bad telling herI was equally surprised she didn't bring the drama. Turns out baby girl has a mild case of bronchitis. So off to Target for meds. </div><div><br></div><div>The kids got Icees so we could tolerate a wait at the pharmacy and shopping for essentials. We were in the lingerie department and I was doing my mama-zone-out-high-on-Targét thang. All of the sudden I hear my four year old son say," Mommy I like all those boobies!" Uh-whaaaa? He pointed at all the bras. Oh. "Yep, they're nice. Daddy will be proud." And he says, "No, we won't tell Daddy." Oh. So I get sucked back into the zone. At that point the kids can fend for themselves, Mama's shopping. As we leave the lingerie he points to a super cute black and white polka dot bra and says "These things are awesome, they look really cool. Look at this one Mommy!" For a second I almost bought it. He was absolutely right. That bra is adorable. I've never had a polka for bra. I love polka dots! I need that! Then wait. Sanity bitch-slapped me. I do NOT buy a bra at my son's recommendation. NO. In order to maintain any last shred of sexy I do NOT do that. (Forget the time he was 6 months old and I had him by me for a bikini wax...)</div><div><br></div><div>So overall their behavior in Targét was awesome. They smiled at all the ladies who told them they were cute. They were okay when I said no to popcorn. They helped me unload the cart. </div><div><br></div><div>On the way home sick baby girl was done. She needed to be home, on the couch, wrapped in a blanket and in our arms. She was crying for cuddles. Cade didn't hesitate, he just started singing our song "It's Your Love" by Tim McGraw. I pulled out my phone at the stoplight and put the music video on YouTube. Both kids were mesmerized. When it was over Cade said "I love that cowboy guy. He's so awesome." Love him. (Cade, not Tim. Well I love him too.)</div><div><br></div><div>Home was a nightmare of busyness. Cooking a new paleo dinner was out. Cooking macaroni for my babies was in. Unloading Target goods. In. Making a paper doll community helper with the boy. Oh wth. How did I forget to do this over the two week holiday break? Seriously? What's my deal? Last night Cade didn't want to do it. neither did i so i didn't fight that battle. So tonight we cranked it out. His first homework assignment special project! Eek!</div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP9FBJsluPgD7Rf_OpsJACyFktc-5UZSck9oNfr5iTikY2eP_Yc3N6rfQpqjC2Y5EQ8mgwModSuNyRVODbBY1YSYh5W9eJMeE5o_6I280v0oaunwTSQlm8Ki5v-LVT3WrP9ACx9IvV9Tw/s640/blogger-image--1393304438.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP9FBJsluPgD7Rf_OpsJACyFktc-5UZSck9oNfr5iTikY2eP_Yc3N6rfQpqjC2Y5EQ8mgwModSuNyRVODbBY1YSYh5W9eJMeE5o_6I280v0oaunwTSQlm8Ki5v-LVT3WrP9ACx9IvV9Tw/s640/blogger-image--1393304438.jpg"></a></div>Here he is cutting out a hose for his fireman. So diligent.</div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQbLYdmw051-5rCz-YyVkWGsFVL9TcUOIAcLjIR-5yQq8Ov_ZmEAVyotK7rXIGV4xHRfxvyuhsTmNhZYT2YSBApyPFqzN0IsjsOPpWvt1dDqwflZjpp8B7SaM5AN5DZJCgYIfLbflA6Fw/s640/blogger-image-1618819495.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQbLYdmw051-5rCz-YyVkWGsFVL9TcUOIAcLjIR-5yQq8Ov_ZmEAVyotK7rXIGV4xHRfxvyuhsTmNhZYT2YSBApyPFqzN0IsjsOPpWvt1dDqwflZjpp8B7SaM5AN5DZJCgYIfLbflA6Fw/s640/blogger-image-1618819495.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">The finished project. Yep, he's a real boy! With school. Homework. Scissors and glue time. Countdown to kindergarten ticking away. Siiighh.... (And notice the vein popping out of my forehead. It wasn't the most whimsical fun ever to juggle sick toddler, homework boy, dinner for kids and me, thoughts of what to cook next on the diet to stay on top of it, thoughts of who will stay home tomorrow with our sick girl, texting my sick mom, texting my diet partners...yep. Vein time.). This is my life. Crazy but beautiful. </div><br></div>Hilaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05092823553746648140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497158732949398889.post-7140884741368389542014-01-03T07:00:00.000-06:002014-01-03T07:00:06.436-06:00The Christmas Series, part 3For my mom's birthday my brother and I planned a day of fun family activities. In the morning we drove out to Grapevine to see the Ice! exhibit at the Gaylord. We ended up having a blast checking out how every nook and cranny was decorated. It was truly a wonderland. <br />
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The nativity scene at the end was breathtaking. </div>
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However, Cade has this thing. He thinks that baby Jesus was special because he was made of gold. Like his skin was gold. Despite my best intentions to teach him that actually the three wise men brought gifts to the baby of gold, francinsense and muhr... He didn't quite get it. </div>
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He told me that when he was in my tummy he was deciding if he wanted to be gold or silver. Because every baby is special and we all have birthdays, just like Jesus. I wasn't sure if it was my place to tell him, no sweetie, you're not as special as Jesus- wise men brough him GIFTS. No, that's not what you tell your child to explain the difference between the whole entire world being joyful and celebrating Jesus' birth and the entire world being joyful when he (my son) was born. Maybe next year, he'll get it?</div>
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The best part of the day was spending time with my family. </div>
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Seeing the kids continue their infatuation with my brother. </div>
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Is Uncle coming? Where did Uncle go? Uncle, come with me!</div>
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God bless my brother. Young fun bachelor from California sucked into preschool world.</div>
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The kids loved every single bit of it!</div>
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The best part was the ice slide. </div>
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I was so excited to ride down with baby girl, but they workers told us we had to go alone. I momentarily panicked-- my baby alone?! What?! Thank God my mom was in line behind us so she helped Devyn. The child who was terrified to sit on Santa's lap had zero fear on the ice slide. </div>
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She took forever scootching her way down the slide, looking completely adorably joyful the entire time. Sweet Dev, I hope you remember this Christmas magic forever!</div>
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Hilaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05092823553746648140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497158732949398889.post-83079238872668610862014-01-01T20:59:00.001-06:002014-01-01T21:00:03.684-06:00The Christmas Series, part 2<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9dueTmwCNUJ-5eLT1PDzvCO7tKHhyphenhyphendfvILvpE1ijcJosiDi-MEyTIIdqJDttttwPgEedQSSYBDQLAIqKfC8Qc0t3zrqPGX-19358X0w9yAg4vujljD901Kco6-4G20VfV1MVOT6u-ads/s1600/IMG_5546.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9dueTmwCNUJ-5eLT1PDzvCO7tKHhyphenhyphendfvILvpE1ijcJosiDi-MEyTIIdqJDttttwPgEedQSSYBDQLAIqKfC8Qc0t3zrqPGX-19358X0w9yAg4vujljD901Kco6-4G20VfV1MVOT6u-ads/s320/IMG_5546.JPG" /></a> </div><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsvwqXTATTe7r3NsOQXirYXm2EMb2cud2VhHEWYbtTCUJ9BOUtQrFhX3wM6xXrU0jDkLqLwbOmXqzuMtMCSf5iK7J9Vf1fixk5TljpIe9RqNAmTvc9OOwNwjK5cgv8PKdZPFCm_R2O1T0/s1600/IMG_5555.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsvwqXTATTe7r3NsOQXirYXm2EMb2cud2VhHEWYbtTCUJ9BOUtQrFhX3wM6xXrU0jDkLqLwbOmXqzuMtMCSf5iK7J9Vf1fixk5TljpIe9RqNAmTvc9OOwNwjK5cgv8PKdZPFCm_R2O1T0/s320/IMG_5555.JPG" /></a><br />
Facts about decorating gingerbread houses with kids:<br />
1. Don't expect a beauty. <br />
2. Do expect a giant Rudolph turd. <br />
3. Do expect the kids to eat most of the decorations before they make it on the house. <br />
4. Don't expect their attention span to last long enough to finish. <br />
5. Do expect to be the one saddled with the task of finishing off the house and having to turn their <strike>utter garbage</strike> hard work into a whimsical Christmas masterpiece. </div><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUhHRmqgO2W5GPhiZmssB2D8vE4CvkZdtXSeFk5alKTgf_b8KrkyPBHusBugkYH2F9wahWBrfEHMDKlD19OUYMkKKayf2Q0KFSxlbqTJBLFRptKjoUK9E1ae1tR_SyxAtYdiv8x0vvOTs/s1600/IMG_5549.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUhHRmqgO2W5GPhiZmssB2D8vE4CvkZdtXSeFk5alKTgf_b8KrkyPBHusBugkYH2F9wahWBrfEHMDKlD19OUYMkKKayf2Q0KFSxlbqTJBLFRptKjoUK9E1ae1tR_SyxAtYdiv8x0vvOTs/s320/IMG_5549.JPG" /></a><br />
So, this one.<br />
When we first got started I put one house in front of each family to decorate. <br />
Devs took one look at it, lifted the whole house on it's cardboard tray up and took a big ol' bite out of the roof. I couldn't even speak. Seriously. Who does that?! <br />
God, I love her. <br />
Freaking amazing. </div><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXQ7kACQNISuGz01rgL61HTw70toFacxlZuWcj1gCUapVo_eknmxqqCb8k07psKhW6xrFQawQqIzUVpWxlHutS4w7s_XoskoGfdWqExDTSWdKvbiaFLiP3mDDrqaDyPUjFT38SSdzsV_c/s1600/IMG_5543.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXQ7kACQNISuGz01rgL61HTw70toFacxlZuWcj1gCUapVo_eknmxqqCb8k07psKhW6xrFQawQqIzUVpWxlHutS4w7s_XoskoGfdWqExDTSWdKvbiaFLiP3mDDrqaDyPUjFT38SSdzsV_c/s320/IMG_5543.JPG" /></a><br />
The other fun part of our party was when hubs came home with a party box of party tacos from Le Taco Bell. Cade and Dev were so excited. The other kids were like "Uhh....tacos?"<br />
Cade convinced them tacos are indeed delicious. And in that moment, my son decided tacos were his new favorite thing in the world. Days later, when driving around town he spotted a Taco Bell and begged me to stop. I promised I would take him on a very special Taco Bell date over the holiday break. Don't be jealous. I know we are uber-posh with our greasy taco bell love. Not sure how this fits into Mommy's plans to go Paleo....but we'll figure it out. For my little love. </div><div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'><a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'><img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /></a></div>Hilaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05092823553746648140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497158732949398889.post-3944433156847609942014-01-01T20:26:00.002-06:002014-01-01T20:26:39.074-06:00The Christmas Series, part 1<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy4k8IQsZLjZpaxO_vJBhAxSmAM1JwfQVEx4EeqEAsm2t4Jb0QizHwaB_B_q2Wkbr0w4pzjOqXrhcUV-oDer9eZJ8kOM153IVpYk-wR5vbXpdSXjeZX6SZl28ns5gdkIVQsVAY98tlKdA/s1600/IMG_5482.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgy4k8IQsZLjZpaxO_vJBhAxSmAM1JwfQVEx4EeqEAsm2t4Jb0QizHwaB_B_q2Wkbr0w4pzjOqXrhcUV-oDer9eZJ8kOM153IVpYk-wR5vbXpdSXjeZX6SZl28ns5gdkIVQsVAY98tlKdA/s320/IMG_5482.JPG" /></a><br />
I have so many memories and pictures from the Christmas season this year, that I have decided to blog them in a series. This Christmas marks the first one where both of our children were old enough to appreciate the magic and wonder of it all. You think the moment you have a baby that the Christmas magic will be instant. Year one they're just your super cute accesory, but they mostly sleep and eat through it all. Year two they are one year old. Not old enough to tell you what they want or understand the Christmas stories, but you go through the motions of it all. The third year, that's when they are two years old, and the magic begins between two and three years old. <br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAJGc8TuQoyKHp1Fk_uI4duHeJSiUdSTQvpHLT_f2M4SbGxLiRkXJgTvoWjY9X37XPknxE3jv5qvwDgCFJ5fLWBRQX_hozS1c1qlXhdiwb01V81WlXqz4UL_pJEmcKDE1nrJtSVqG8G_c/s1600/IMG_5458.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAJGc8TuQoyKHp1Fk_uI4duHeJSiUdSTQvpHLT_f2M4SbGxLiRkXJgTvoWjY9X37XPknxE3jv5qvwDgCFJ5fLWBRQX_hozS1c1qlXhdiwb01V81WlXqz4UL_pJEmcKDE1nrJtSVqG8G_c/s320/IMG_5458.JPG" /></a><br />
You might be wondering about the magic of Cade's outfit above. He decided Santa wanted to see something "really awesome". So after I picked out his outfit and he got dressed, he went back to his room and re-emerged in cowboy boots, cowboy hat, his plastic bronze Batman buckle and his lime green Chuy's cape. Awesome indeed. </div>
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While Daddy held our spot in line for Santa, I took the littles to go see the ginormous Christmas tree and hope to score some sweet snaps for our Christmas card. Not exactly what I hoped for, but.... this is four and two for you. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ865pxjnXgKcRQJ2dPdRthkKCwfRvbE_eHjQXJEa4xXVdaDOeDoBkMwnYqwC7v9h3VfAo0MNbJ6clp9sz300h19jYEuDmnSPpsJ4U4s2ijTpTQYJ3qT_Et8yWC3FTdYOnM0WH_4Z8WkM/s1600/IMG_5490.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ865pxjnXgKcRQJ2dPdRthkKCwfRvbE_eHjQXJEa4xXVdaDOeDoBkMwnYqwC7v9h3VfAo0MNbJ6clp9sz300h19jYEuDmnSPpsJ4U4s2ijTpTQYJ3qT_Et8yWC3FTdYOnM0WH_4Z8WkM/s320/IMG_5490.JPG" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlaZJzrkekZLWk424xoGzoAz8FLp4xrk0q3OYUctkUFUvG7QbA8H8NZYT01LfZwWpWKjztOJSS513oOTJH8sFQMuJ0KguH65KH3hjAKJTvuFlCdSZw4OA-myvxq92yiVUhfaiBG51AzP4/s1600/IMG_5474.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlaZJzrkekZLWk424xoGzoAz8FLp4xrk0q3OYUctkUFUvG7QbA8H8NZYT01LfZwWpWKjztOJSS513oOTJH8sFQMuJ0KguH65KH3hjAKJTvuFlCdSZw4OA-myvxq92yiVUhfaiBG51AzP4/s320/IMG_5474.JPG" /></a> </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghjEdopX1cWnHWJD_A_LtlYcTwMM7VT08Ms8vkIUrCuLXPcocupHojPncWd3aRNBLrt3FeMrMDi-N22_rNpPFrOkn_2pJ4A_WnONxzui8XDf0QX27lroOFFCqYLM-FRnvsnfaBNsWtWIY/s1600/IMG_5500.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghjEdopX1cWnHWJD_A_LtlYcTwMM7VT08Ms8vkIUrCuLXPcocupHojPncWd3aRNBLrt3FeMrMDi-N22_rNpPFrOkn_2pJ4A_WnONxzui8XDf0QX27lroOFFCqYLM-FRnvsnfaBNsWtWIY/s320/IMG_5500.JPG" /></a><br />
I was hoping by some stroke of luck a friendly passerby would offer to take some pictures of all of us and let me jump in. No luck. So we got this pic of the boys. Guess who was tired of smiling?</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIcPjIOtfx793qrI2VB-tXrQ9PhdCMvpBvy3xDRDvYZ27aM-OrCWKcyCEb8qStQobUwajshZZpKYVonY6rcVsjjyG0Am-MJyJri2IOk5CXpssH2ukOZyAKpXxKhmw68LfvrGkgFTk0N9s/s1600/IMG_5509.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIcPjIOtfx793qrI2VB-tXrQ9PhdCMvpBvy3xDRDvYZ27aM-OrCWKcyCEb8qStQobUwajshZZpKYVonY6rcVsjjyG0Am-MJyJri2IOk5CXpssH2ukOZyAKpXxKhmw68LfvrGkgFTk0N9s/s320/IMG_5509.JPG" /></a> </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYbnJhyphenhyphenO-WlFcNKu_NsQpkPApGom2zupB83OJIEnn9-3B_JNGcB8dn1XQKIWGmMkxutfQZz3czw-4hEkJv2RB43voZB990n0v-yUNIQy9ygMWPU5-OvJFt-arUnBn_939-IXjHX3xjYKo/s1600/IMG_5529.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYbnJhyphenhyphenO-WlFcNKu_NsQpkPApGom2zupB83OJIEnn9-3B_JNGcB8dn1XQKIWGmMkxutfQZz3czw-4hEkJv2RB43voZB990n0v-yUNIQy9ygMWPU5-OvJFt-arUnBn_939-IXjHX3xjYKo/s320/IMG_5529.JPG" /></a><br />
And if you've ever tried getting a two year old to smile for the camera, you'll appreciate this gem. <br />
And if you've taken that same child to go see Santa maybe in line you'd notice her tell you, with all the conviction she can muster, "I NOT sit on Santa's lap!" <br />
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Sure enough, she was calm until it was our turn. We weren't planning on getting a family group shot....But when Devyn turned and ran to the friendly momma in line behind us for comfort as she cried and said "No no no!", I just about died. I grabbed my trashing, terrified, unconsollable child and had a huge internal debate. Do I make her sit on Santa's lap? I'd so hate to not have a Santa picture for every year of her childhood. Or do I reject Santa and make Cade sit up there by himself? Ugh, split second decision. I looked at hubs and made the judgement call "Lets all get in together". <br />
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The sheer terror didn't end. But I didn't look half bad. <br />
Winning? hm...<br />
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Hilaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05092823553746648140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497158732949398889.post-14450767240324823532013-12-18T20:43:00.001-06:002013-12-18T20:44:08.800-06:00Wordless Wednesday<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">Four days of ice fell in Texas two weeks ago. <br />
This is our story.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4fL3pwO9cuST46f__bo6P-6TSaaNZt-h_Mwiev4zPIHocHwnBoTDgyKnSzFtnZ1qr2lOPuL-KVg3-b2YnleXIHcysmpW-Zq6J3Z6oy8HaOaMpqX0H1jAuOdCRDPPtnwrn_42eaXHLipE/s1600/ice1.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4fL3pwO9cuST46f__bo6P-6TSaaNZt-h_Mwiev4zPIHocHwnBoTDgyKnSzFtnZ1qr2lOPuL-KVg3-b2YnleXIHcysmpW-Zq6J3Z6oy8HaOaMpqX0H1jAuOdCRDPPtnwrn_42eaXHLipE/s400/ice1.JPG" /></a> </div><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFVa0CyveCedwxKo-L6tUJ4xa_9tf1FqZpM3QQ25bbZpF24os4Yeno4GwmF6-is-3wWosRysdC8YSUDaeU-1nHZqEsy48kprT9QQvZSxSAx0DVT7wTwlDXTAKnbjY6qpOJIJrH0iTmTMg/s1600/ice3.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFVa0CyveCedwxKo-L6tUJ4xa_9tf1FqZpM3QQ25bbZpF24os4Yeno4GwmF6-is-3wWosRysdC8YSUDaeU-1nHZqEsy48kprT9QQvZSxSAx0DVT7wTwlDXTAKnbjY6qpOJIJrH0iTmTMg/s400/ice3.JPG" /></a> </div><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8OwemuoxRuGwKEL4iMq-o_FdBI9UukPKbJxg0KXdJFoG83qFlM5BI_l6kdVYqOaK4iHTvFDlQWK3Ec5BOkAhGTzB5Vs6ywCsDDQG3yNTDKjCZICmgwUuLh-baq3hK39TppBlbN15VwEk/s1600/ice4.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8OwemuoxRuGwKEL4iMq-o_FdBI9UukPKbJxg0KXdJFoG83qFlM5BI_l6kdVYqOaK4iHTvFDlQWK3Ec5BOkAhGTzB5Vs6ywCsDDQG3yNTDKjCZICmgwUuLh-baq3hK39TppBlbN15VwEk/s400/ice4.JPG" /></a> </div><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_PzTAXFDpCiwVSzHmd3o-J9zC9AA5kv5tWijuKPKaNTo45Qhuh_0KaSTC6xhl7oEVxw1EokWL8ppcIENV0BC2iycJJ0xXiu7-FMdcX8FL5l04UjYjHr-NnkCK_Uo2WoSusSg61q6oqMs/s1600/IMG_5352.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_PzTAXFDpCiwVSzHmd3o-J9zC9AA5kv5tWijuKPKaNTo45Qhuh_0KaSTC6xhl7oEVxw1EokWL8ppcIENV0BC2iycJJ0xXiu7-FMdcX8FL5l04UjYjHr-NnkCK_Uo2WoSusSg61q6oqMs/s400/IMG_5352.JPG" /></a> </div><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXUhL43QJV7ngtERwdRXy_A8_iu1YlGNsXSYMBK1AKBhcRd7-YexPJTC4_C6dhvssDpXUd6o7XjZKThvH_cMSszwuwnBfhQ8tA1jKNaDapVYEisW472QD0Dcbs70RVvRRIrC28zKsPU5w/s1600/IMG_5357.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXUhL43QJV7ngtERwdRXy_A8_iu1YlGNsXSYMBK1AKBhcRd7-YexPJTC4_C6dhvssDpXUd6o7XjZKThvH_cMSszwuwnBfhQ8tA1jKNaDapVYEisW472QD0Dcbs70RVvRRIrC28zKsPU5w/s400/IMG_5357.JPG" /></a> </div><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvtChYAQqJntpwwBsvKukoKqSSrz7l8uWlb0xt9wVGwCsBSDxRdHHhyphenhyphenFzV4T_xT9nOxEnUsC_ImsHn9W_tiZuqUiPYdh-_lDjZVzB1fAJQUw3q7K-XsAoLWo1ZNXrzNA0FQAxcDpvOI78/s1600/IMG_5361.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvtChYAQqJntpwwBsvKukoKqSSrz7l8uWlb0xt9wVGwCsBSDxRdHHhyphenhyphenFzV4T_xT9nOxEnUsC_ImsHn9W_tiZuqUiPYdh-_lDjZVzB1fAJQUw3q7K-XsAoLWo1ZNXrzNA0FQAxcDpvOI78/s400/IMG_5361.JPG" /></a> </div><div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'><a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'><img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /></a></div>Hilaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05092823553746648140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497158732949398889.post-19543181102357420732013-12-01T21:06:00.003-06:002013-12-01T21:06:43.340-06:00How to Decorate with a ToddlerThis Saturday, I did it. I decorated my house for the holidays with a 2 and a half and 4 and a half year old running around. It was a total joyous breeze. Here is the breakdown of how you too can accomplish decorating with children. <br />
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7:15am Children wake you up. Cuddle in bed. Get kicked in the face and stomach a few times but cuddle them anyways. Notice that kids don't have cute morning breath. Puppies, yes. Children, no.<br />
7:45am Take 2 year old to bathroom. She doesn't pee. Put her in underpants. Pray. Set the timer to remind her (and you) to do another potty check in 15 min. <br />
7:50am Turn on cartoons for the littles. Make breakfast. Since you want to set the tone for the Christmas spirit make some fresh eggs and bacon. The kids want more pumpkin bread. You don't want to give them the final piece, so you break it into small chunks. Pray they don't mind. <br />
8:00am Timer dings. Go try potty. She pees. (Or "peeps" as she calls it). Call Miss Rachel on the Potty Training app. God bless the iPhone. Set the timer for 30 min. <br />
8:05am Remember to let the dog out and give her breakfast. Shush kids so Daddy can sleep in. <br />
8:15am Eat your own breakfast, drink coffee. Change the channel so you get E! News. You can't decorate if you don't have celeb gossip. <br />
8:30am Timer. Potty train. Nothing. Pray. <br />
8:45am Finish coffee. Clean up dishes. Have kids try to bring you their plates. Clean up spilled cold eggs. Why didn't they eat their eggs? They only ate bacon and their bit of pumpkin bread. Oh well. <br />
8:46am Turn on Christmas music on the tv. <br />
8:55am Take down fall and Thanksgiving decorations. Yes, you should have those. No, you don't need Christmas before Thanksgiving. That's a separate rant post. <br />
8:57am Potty accident. <br />
8:57am Turn off Christmas music. Go clean up Potty accident. <br />
9:15am Finish gathering Fall decor. Find a tub. It's full of old Christmas photos and crappy decor and lame children's art. (Trust, I save the good stuff.) Recyle. Save photos. Put in fall decor. <br />
9:30am Dust the room. You need a clean slate. Windex the mirror. Husband is awake and grabs your butt as you clean the mirror. Kids weren't looking. Or were they? Pray. <br />
9:40am Remember to potty with the little girl. Peeps! Yay! Potty app. Virtual sticker. Yay! Set the timer. <br />
9:50am Kids are hungry for a snack. Punks didn't eat breakfast. Try to get them to eat something healthy. They eat crackers and M&Ms instead. Oh well. At least the Halloween Stash is going strong. <br />
9:53am Refill cups for kids. <br />
9:55am Get down Christmas boxes. Beg husband to break away from College Gameday during the commercial break to help you get boxes down. Keep begging. Beg again. Pray. <br />
10:15am Boxes are down. Start to unpack. Baby girl wants to be close to you. Bring highchair over. Put her in it. Unpack and try to remember where you actually put all this stuff. <br />
10:19am Potty accident. In the highchair. Arghsdkjsajfakl! Pray. <br />
10:35am Encourage kids to play together. Turn on a movie in the other room for them. <br />
10:40am Go take a potty break yourself. Read some US Weekly. Check Facebook. Check instagram. <br />
10:50am Your butt is numb. Go lay on the bed. The kids are quiet but not too quiet. Check Facebook again. Check Zulily. <br />
11:00am Play with kids. <br />
11:15am Potty timer dings. Yay! Success. Potty app. <br />
11:20am Kids want lunch. Make Thanksgiving leftovers. <br />
11:30am Decorate. <br />
11:45am. Beg husband to find some Diet Dr Pepper. Go with sweet tea instead. Take a sip. Have three Fritos. <br />
12:00pm Potty timer dings. Nothing. Oh well, nap time. Put on a pull up. Put her in bed. Convince the boy he needs a nap. <br />
12:10pm Decorate. <br />
12:35pm Eat lunch. <br />
12:50pm Decorate. <br />
1:20pm Exhaustion. The decorations are done. Go to bed and try to nap while the kids nap. <br />
1:35pm Wow, wtf was the author of the Book Thief smoking in the first ten pages?? Keep reading. zzzzzzzz<br />
1:55pm 4 year climbs into bed to cuddle with you. Convince him to nap. <br />
2:15 He's done napping. Give him your iPhone so he can play Minion Rush. On silent. Try to nap.....<br />
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And still.... all that and my decorations look half ass. We got our tree today - fresh cut from the Home Depot parking lot "farm". I always forget the tree has to live outside in a bucket of water for a few days so it doesn't dry out. Arggh. So I've moved the furniture for the tree and now it feels almost like something Christmas-ish. A little. Why does the tree make all the difference? Why is such an ordeal? Why oh why does sap get so damn sticky? Anyways....<br />
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Hoping your decorating was a success! Or that you had your cocktail handy. Or even better, a babysitter to remove children from the premises so you can enjoy your Christmas music, bev, and decor. There's always next year...<br />
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Hilaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05092823553746648140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497158732949398889.post-33631619229754419132013-11-13T21:33:00.001-06:002013-11-13T21:33:44.666-06:00Wordless Wednesday<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZyYugJ89nMz17RdLvfOIRG765Amt50EMla0k-2mZ2oCQ2Taok8rri0KCW5gWn1eS9O0YMtVJ8n-2YsdWbthEPijA1Qrw5mw9Zu2G_37cVePxbUm_JDtn3N6xc3uThGWKAY7RKEogF-eQ/s1600/IMG_5010.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZyYugJ89nMz17RdLvfOIRG765Amt50EMla0k-2mZ2oCQ2Taok8rri0KCW5gWn1eS9O0YMtVJ8n-2YsdWbthEPijA1Qrw5mw9Zu2G_37cVePxbUm_JDtn3N6xc3uThGWKAY7RKEogF-eQ/s400/IMG_5010.JPG" /></a> </div><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPFqTLeC9sGRQVT1-syS0-whocIFimwZG3Fexl9WP-syfnM5Ni0WlqJs7bO08LV8BR-H0Q49r_jrPFKLw1aZJTL_2FjqFchG0LBz4EE0scVLgc9HbJ-azsbrf0WAfRTGcqtD9EVw4BDdo/s1600/IMG_5009.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPFqTLeC9sGRQVT1-syS0-whocIFimwZG3Fexl9WP-syfnM5Ni0WlqJs7bO08LV8BR-H0Q49r_jrPFKLw1aZJTL_2FjqFchG0LBz4EE0scVLgc9HbJ-azsbrf0WAfRTGcqtD9EVw4BDdo/s400/IMG_5009.JPG" /></a> </div><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmT-Fpz2EGyv_bN5s5WUqQ5rlrwPMs_qCV2Zi1M8qdCS1uaccHfXPBs06bLv_PiiodcdifVZImmmRKf4N0pDmeNHh-skcm-QfDuVmxt6jHlVvwdI1gs1byiP_cB0SglZeOUC7FWtqcLHo/s1600/IMG_5011.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmT-Fpz2EGyv_bN5s5WUqQ5rlrwPMs_qCV2Zi1M8qdCS1uaccHfXPBs06bLv_PiiodcdifVZImmmRKf4N0pDmeNHh-skcm-QfDuVmxt6jHlVvwdI1gs1byiP_cB0SglZeOUC7FWtqcLHo/s400/IMG_5011.JPG" /></a> </div><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_X9ejAyDtWYU_TEWNlFW7ABQ5mSGHxEHXaSjBjmtbvjPXIPR-oItNtkNmetjfSvWrcqo2XOvIz0WL7VIrHW1EMJnvg0ol9mpMOrRDeKvOlObja4GNCrIvOODWoq8ww4rp0Nb8gMP-HwM/s1600/IMG_5016.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_X9ejAyDtWYU_TEWNlFW7ABQ5mSGHxEHXaSjBjmtbvjPXIPR-oItNtkNmetjfSvWrcqo2XOvIz0WL7VIrHW1EMJnvg0ol9mpMOrRDeKvOlObja4GNCrIvOODWoq8ww4rp0Nb8gMP-HwM/s400/IMG_5016.JPG" /></a> </div><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXhg_2822x9rrTytrLHxyG9uFRw6rGLhFWbSEyJ5d1ts2ZCCDdIZUiq5FMgax132rBCgPyXkppgDDrY70hqDAAMEAWLuNf2Ks-4GB6yFqEAgO_ya982Kkn94MPSiMm7hSn8eB6kUzIFE0/s1600/IMG_5017.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXhg_2822x9rrTytrLHxyG9uFRw6rGLhFWbSEyJ5d1ts2ZCCDdIZUiq5FMgax132rBCgPyXkppgDDrY70hqDAAMEAWLuNf2Ks-4GB6yFqEAgO_ya982Kkn94MPSiMm7hSn8eB6kUzIFE0/s400/IMG_5017.JPG" /></a> </div><div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'><a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'><img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /></a></div>Hilaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05092823553746648140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497158732949398889.post-76941841073226886482013-11-01T21:24:00.001-05:002013-11-01T21:25:25.622-05:00Fall at the Arboretum<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRrGykpMCrdnze6II3pbca4cJbLLXacduGea-PIRkGb4wL3hfamsDe_j8_cjPu49TiXW7w_h3iwh8yd_Rw97ZTS-J0_gCd7EIxZA024j4-ZZ-FZ1h5e50BE8_wDKhXYSBrjS646bcqBeU/s1600/fave9.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRrGykpMCrdnze6II3pbca4cJbLLXacduGea-PIRkGb4wL3hfamsDe_j8_cjPu49TiXW7w_h3iwh8yd_Rw97ZTS-J0_gCd7EIxZA024j4-ZZ-FZ1h5e50BE8_wDKhXYSBrjS646bcqBeU/s400/fave9.JPG" /></a><br />
Who doesn't love a pumpkin?<br />
Every year since Cade was born we have gone to the Dallas Arboretum for the pumpkin festival. Every day at the Arboretum is a gorgeous day. But the oranges and greens. It's stunning.</div><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0LO-xi5dN2G7YFsY-d40alBHsI2XQaIAU9i-XmdG4HHY5euSif9WV8O400mCBnxz3PO7swm_ao0RG11gykTbAr95zRTDYcR9ZtAQyNrkHv5QfDc8vscqQlefFRYKMtO-yA6mraMU99qc/s1600/fave12.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0LO-xi5dN2G7YFsY-d40alBHsI2XQaIAU9i-XmdG4HHY5euSif9WV8O400mCBnxz3PO7swm_ao0RG11gykTbAr95zRTDYcR9ZtAQyNrkHv5QfDc8vscqQlefFRYKMtO-yA6mraMU99qc/s400/fave12.JPG" /></a> </div><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8JE9swQ6znVXR_jj4rSkBV6By2ASoKYpSJ13T_v_4kFZIb5P30lN4KUd6IeD2ZInuQ2DMT116K-0DrWHoyvKr9bqUVlBrj0DlfHPTm-nXEiehe3TIG7wwRueY6SymJNAHd5oDve5kHUs/s1600/fave13.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8JE9swQ6znVXR_jj4rSkBV6By2ASoKYpSJ13T_v_4kFZIb5P30lN4KUd6IeD2ZInuQ2DMT116K-0DrWHoyvKr9bqUVlBrj0DlfHPTm-nXEiehe3TIG7wwRueY6SymJNAHd5oDve5kHUs/s400/fave13.JPG" /></a> </div><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLTjE719UwyQ-sD0tRERbCE_NEubZ9qAoMSdlNPyaXuE4AKg2onZtqScNalVbiRI_V6RzsZrvMEkYTQXQ97uzmLQcJaIsYmY185pd8W2ZffxMTiu4uH038AYqZ4ySrA2gKUd_U0RoSJig/s1600/fave4.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLTjE719UwyQ-sD0tRERbCE_NEubZ9qAoMSdlNPyaXuE4AKg2onZtqScNalVbiRI_V6RzsZrvMEkYTQXQ97uzmLQcJaIsYmY185pd8W2ZffxMTiu4uH038AYqZ4ySrA2gKUd_U0RoSJig/s400/fave4.JPG" /></a> </div><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHLCiL5HqzQUQZpBX5lQF0NNjTg4b08d7oT6yTZPSbMR-GC8w5ezedxOWL_h7DCQBNzXjJz_RhAbTczwYj6y7KUK4PHqgoT3091VcDh8TXHMifOxxm-tqHx_QDUQiYciRtgIo1O1oRolM/s1600/IMG_4548.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHLCiL5HqzQUQZpBX5lQF0NNjTg4b08d7oT6yTZPSbMR-GC8w5ezedxOWL_h7DCQBNzXjJz_RhAbTczwYj6y7KUK4PHqgoT3091VcDh8TXHMifOxxm-tqHx_QDUQiYciRtgIo1O1oRolM/s400/IMG_4548.JPG" /></a> </div><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXJ_dkUzP3RtnAWJpiQ_3PDjI_eiJyzR9lB3Lco3Gx-k4eBcN9p1-h137rsmCVTSjIp-VQ35Pvo5ROhyphenhyphenyjaTFVbNTC1v_Uf8OG1ElPCi993__17sU2SXHYbi7JwWo2rEXtSbs0kwot44Q/s1600/IMG_4559.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXJ_dkUzP3RtnAWJpiQ_3PDjI_eiJyzR9lB3Lco3Gx-k4eBcN9p1-h137rsmCVTSjIp-VQ35Pvo5ROhyphenhyphenyjaTFVbNTC1v_Uf8OG1ElPCi993__17sU2SXHYbi7JwWo2rEXtSbs0kwot44Q/s400/IMG_4559.JPG" /></a> </div><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMmZD1qGraMJjDENnAdo4RkAnaJRl6YpdiXFdZ8r4LCvQm8ILlGifMg0lRmdVPzhveoLgNX_Ehqng0r3fErgGEZ7zBvJodgdQiwSNuHYfHdwpTUgJQVTWetgLfgHtkymOuZxLvCoVYTr4/s1600/chucks.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMmZD1qGraMJjDENnAdo4RkAnaJRl6YpdiXFdZ8r4LCvQm8ILlGifMg0lRmdVPzhveoLgNX_Ehqng0r3fErgGEZ7zBvJodgdQiwSNuHYfHdwpTUgJQVTWetgLfgHtkymOuZxLvCoVYTr4/s400/chucks.JPG" /></a> </div><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIL_Ih9XznewzvZDAqb-CQOEq_-iAykHJJPIJK1_Y9kgfQs81D856jluALaS-BRj0Se58XvrItyk30WQvhNGje6GxI_B3bB2K2WDRXrYPkW2o8r7e3x55Atp-qTS4Ugi7xLKAgZEzondE/s1600/fave7.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIL_Ih9XznewzvZDAqb-CQOEq_-iAykHJJPIJK1_Y9kgfQs81D856jluALaS-BRj0Se58XvrItyk30WQvhNGje6GxI_B3bB2K2WDRXrYPkW2o8r7e3x55Atp-qTS4Ugi7xLKAgZEzondE/s400/fave7.JPG" /></a> </div><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjgmmJKLCgTTaOdNH9mJ1mryy8O5li7SX5w418dPAaIYFAs8drqer90VN-IsgR0B1nH94NfkjkqdWM39_L9ZSmTAXezOAcCOBY9llcI3kyauOEfqlHS1axR0LkLzy6xnXDz4afaNQRShQ/s1600/fave1.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjgmmJKLCgTTaOdNH9mJ1mryy8O5li7SX5w418dPAaIYFAs8drqer90VN-IsgR0B1nH94NfkjkqdWM39_L9ZSmTAXezOAcCOBY9llcI3kyauOEfqlHS1axR0LkLzy6xnXDz4afaNQRShQ/s400/fave1.JPG" /></a> </div><div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'><a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'><img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /></a></div>Hilaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05092823553746648140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497158732949398889.post-46883574336175484882013-11-01T20:43:00.001-05:002013-11-01T20:44:42.235-05:00Dance Class<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">Two weeks ago was maybe one of my favorite mommy days ev-er. <br />
We did the Arboretum in the morning and in the evening we were invited to join the girls in Cade's preschool class at ballet & tap Bring-A-Friend day! My friend and I were all about our boys giving it a go. As her hubs pointed out, a guy's gotta have moves. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQSARtDfqgs_7raZPthIxJ8SK41chfQIp9OQa9DTNRL-uan7XYs8_rl86BAsUr36LhpOAkBhXWIY-TmuOVTUUY7kTfhNCMU8kso43Zd_GGMuDbFVjoxpAazlXaBcphODn8Ja_-8_1x4NQ/s1600/IMG_4610.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQSARtDfqgs_7raZPthIxJ8SK41chfQIp9OQa9DTNRL-uan7XYs8_rl86BAsUr36LhpOAkBhXWIY-TmuOVTUUY7kTfhNCMU8kso43Zd_GGMuDbFVjoxpAazlXaBcphODn8Ja_-8_1x4NQ/s400/IMG_4610.JPG" /></a><br />
Cade was kina curious about going to dance. But the day of he told me, in no uncertain terms, that he would NOT be a ballerina. No probs, dude. I offered up Dance Ninja instead. He took the bait. He randomly insisted on wearing his pirate bandana. Whatevs dude. The girls had their tutus, the boys had their Batman mask hoodies and pirate doorags. <br />
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This pic. They got to skip across the room and "leap" around the stuffed puppy. <br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-t0QZrA_APgkuKNXh5CCmZI77vKjOOmKU0v6lYovDFxqWNa2yF6LOcROjZTytQW5BR8x_TxwcQa1WMS39FNgO-6RDMLuft4VIydC0qiksxlqco5vtfE0DXUqt4EQK1QGl5Hv3kLMBTOc/s1600/IMG_4612.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-t0QZrA_APgkuKNXh5CCmZI77vKjOOmKU0v6lYovDFxqWNa2yF6LOcROjZTytQW5BR8x_TxwcQa1WMS39FNgO-6RDMLuft4VIydC0qiksxlqco5vtfE0DXUqt4EQK1QGl5Hv3kLMBTOc/s400/IMG_4612.JPG" /></a><br />
Methinks my boy learned a little Riverdance.</div><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnRIfu-326MjuGo8WQ32b4TCOBejwqfuxY7wcH3Y9NE96rQ5UlqxOqnpajZy9DufvsMT65igopT5l-QepqE2dAZqGJa7_uoBw-HtHONRSU1OV0PlYj-8c4POAWepXZRuix18mIkB1X1RI/s1600/IMG_4614.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnRIfu-326MjuGo8WQ32b4TCOBejwqfuxY7wcH3Y9NE96rQ5UlqxOqnpajZy9DufvsMT65igopT5l-QepqE2dAZqGJa7_uoBw-HtHONRSU1OV0PlYj-8c4POAWepXZRuix18mIkB1X1RI/s400/IMG_4614.JPG" /></a><br />
Checkin himself and likin what he sees.</div><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNWkxaBHzVQvRJaxm1VbWmy8dFJQF4Ekp5cqyLmfJ89s_JIyyL-0BTDkU9P2-f7lUzgUgbx_DWQGRWfmjsyaeaSe2eeRjULofJZrPE4HeMyPlm1pRnXazTDCk0uH3RNfvD_0EqmBdLsWM/s1600/IMG_4619.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNWkxaBHzVQvRJaxm1VbWmy8dFJQF4Ekp5cqyLmfJ89s_JIyyL-0BTDkU9P2-f7lUzgUgbx_DWQGRWfmjsyaeaSe2eeRjULofJZrPE4HeMyPlm1pRnXazTDCk0uH3RNfvD_0EqmBdLsWM/s400/IMG_4619.JPG" /></a><br />
Devyn was so into it that when they switched for the second half of the class, tap, they let her come in. She went right up front and center with her big brother. Not sure why my kids got in the front or center, for that matter. First timers? Very bold. They did so good! I'm so pumped for Devy to get signed up for her first dance class. Pink tights and black leotard? <br />
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Towards the end of the class they made a circle and each child got to stand up and do a move. <br />
Devyn was the second one to go. She stood up, twirled in two circles as she tapped in her Chucks. I think I shed a tear. Seriously such a proud moment, and so exciting to see her having fun with it!</div><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4agh5uhkCU_TjWlCzxJ_8FTfS81JeYPoEJUDkst9k39pjyTQejPISf-PMhzY-QAj3UylR7CpNeX0pn81aSx95m12Xu4EAIe6Kd3BWVZsfOmtRAHegaJUPuee4p7vyiSlSIBeUbDURj3E/s1600/IMG_4625.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4agh5uhkCU_TjWlCzxJ_8FTfS81JeYPoEJUDkst9k39pjyTQejPISf-PMhzY-QAj3UylR7CpNeX0pn81aSx95m12Xu4EAIe6Kd3BWVZsfOmtRAHegaJUPuee4p7vyiSlSIBeUbDURj3E/s400/IMG_4625.JPG" /></a> </div><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOxGuf_-QPByrAmzb7_jkD4un1UNTp-NlqZS1N40XxFTcxp7Pz-hwRVl6zq8VnfPuNd8pa1yM5pXGgf_Z_i9HJzxOHkG6LirkJQaVGoQpllJYBbko6YsHH26L_yLH56Vp-PqUlxbB9Zzs/s1600/IMG_4626.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOxGuf_-QPByrAmzb7_jkD4un1UNTp-NlqZS1N40XxFTcxp7Pz-hwRVl6zq8VnfPuNd8pa1yM5pXGgf_Z_i9HJzxOHkG6LirkJQaVGoQpllJYBbko6YsHH26L_yLH56Vp-PqUlxbB9Zzs/s400/IMG_4626.JPG" /></a><br />
Tiny Dancer. </div><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwLa2nSpXK9k8KDfPRIJFhOtGAyE7BzyW95lRZAZGjsH8kx7Oi0sALBjtQUxmKmVFxwpj4C1t35Wl_Gs_P8LBCfwVG-vq5O2IVDGUiWynrZVTjMOeOaYOVyGORD8-TazcH8cTwh0wtqpA/s1600/IMG_4627.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwLa2nSpXK9k8KDfPRIJFhOtGAyE7BzyW95lRZAZGjsH8kx7Oi0sALBjtQUxmKmVFxwpj4C1t35Wl_Gs_P8LBCfwVG-vq5O2IVDGUiWynrZVTjMOeOaYOVyGORD8-TazcH8cTwh0wtqpA/s400/IMG_4627.JPG" /></a><br />
She couldn't stop talking about dance class the whole week. <br />
My sweet little tiny dancer. </div><div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'><a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'><img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /></a></div>Hilaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05092823553746648140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497158732949398889.post-44090486824981523242013-10-21T16:05:00.001-05:002013-10-21T16:06:13.073-05:00Pumpkin Patch Fun!<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ1lfa1UQhx_8DRL9CP2x_kP-CLgTOWK4n_ChAl9N3DiH_9XIrCOXDuqBL3YZYEQkWmOLOuwIuGnvf8RdpUe61YLtU50dJM7tnIVefAwXaNmr4tJ7cxZ9l-RAQSL5oHR6Vb871whLk82Y/s1600/IMG_4390.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ1lfa1UQhx_8DRL9CP2x_kP-CLgTOWK4n_ChAl9N3DiH_9XIrCOXDuqBL3YZYEQkWmOLOuwIuGnvf8RdpUe61YLtU50dJM7tnIVefAwXaNmr4tJ7cxZ9l-RAQSL5oHR6Vb871whLk82Y/s400/IMG_4390.JPG" /></a><br />
We visited the Pumpkin Patch at Storybook Ranch last weekend. <br />
The weather was overcast and even a little drizzly at the end but the kids had a blast. </div><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSts6TMahz-qqqsuARSgvSm-48kvqcggwjkNUHlwBObvE3BriFkoTgn83jwoxrNQtdKm8rNYO5ubOw1ejNvIed1e_alaN1JRq-7-dBh_3MyfTAMDBBLKE_XC8Zrz34VjcMR-iI72qQPmM/s1600/IMG_4430.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSts6TMahz-qqqsuARSgvSm-48kvqcggwjkNUHlwBObvE3BriFkoTgn83jwoxrNQtdKm8rNYO5ubOw1ejNvIed1e_alaN1JRq-7-dBh_3MyfTAMDBBLKE_XC8Zrz34VjcMR-iI72qQPmM/s400/IMG_4430.JPG" /></a><br />
Each of them got to take home a mini pumpkin!</div><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3NWv7IpkIagymwWKFyjOZcghX9jzKRJxJ3y3GcFV3rf8JvK-Xma0H1ec42-es6REo93nPp0EVi1pmQH4OHqddrLo1wBlaZbxwA-eLotBN3fwDhZhxF4i6gza9_jm8ehJJmz4pzoFAWQM/s1600/IMG_4402.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3NWv7IpkIagymwWKFyjOZcghX9jzKRJxJ3y3GcFV3rf8JvK-Xma0H1ec42-es6REo93nPp0EVi1pmQH4OHqddrLo1wBlaZbxwA-eLotBN3fwDhZhxF4i6gza9_jm8ehJJmz4pzoFAWQM/s400/IMG_4402.JPG" /></a><br />
They loved doing the hay maze. But of course, our little lambies thought hopping the hay walls was the quickest way out. Little cheats! </div><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvYX2iq3fzl2YLgmAd5UjGDDv_O-WtI6lRmxKyKfZ7lNBkwPMdeJEUBNwIQCp9cSMgMNHMSCF0KVHkOKVVOo_tSprodXAHBgB21kK43_zMidIXcVCK6kJjmTgH-r-00E5gKuOQYArsPR4/s1600/IMG_4415.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvYX2iq3fzl2YLgmAd5UjGDDv_O-WtI6lRmxKyKfZ7lNBkwPMdeJEUBNwIQCp9cSMgMNHMSCF0KVHkOKVVOo_tSprodXAHBgB21kK43_zMidIXcVCK6kJjmTgH-r-00E5gKuOQYArsPR4/s400/IMG_4415.JPG" /></a><br />
Part of the admission included three bounce houses and a haunted hay ride. <br />
The hay ride had no hay, which was preferrable actually. It went through a haunted ghost town. <br />
There were a few creepy scarecrows and ghosts. It would have been awesome in the dark!<br />
<br />
Afterwards we saw a honkey dorse. I think their term was "ponkey". I prefer honkey dorse. <br />
It was rather cute!! Devyn rode her first horse horse, and Cade rode his first tire swing! <br />
I love pumpkin patches, they are the perfect kickstart for fall. <br />
Up next, arboreteum pumpkin pics!</div><div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'><a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'><img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /></a></div>Hilaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05092823553746648140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497158732949398889.post-3063944025770110762013-10-09T21:22:00.001-05:002013-10-09T21:23:04.221-05:00Mama's Sweetheart<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCaNNA1S805aDp5-0pwllJUEFSWd3wQ0XQUREaADafZckboVcpdHz3WSrCew0xEquTe3lQZOyprnGhDJhiBx6CgeVPmO9Pjbn34EzI6Q-e6KToZWz5uFeAKc1lSlAhqkUyLGRzoFbpOz8/s1600/delmar004.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCaNNA1S805aDp5-0pwllJUEFSWd3wQ0XQUREaADafZckboVcpdHz3WSrCew0xEquTe3lQZOyprnGhDJhiBx6CgeVPmO9Pjbn34EzI6Q-e6KToZWz5uFeAKc1lSlAhqkUyLGRzoFbpOz8/s400/delmar004.JPG" /></a><br />
This boy. This face. He is such a sweet soul. He can be fiesty, naughty, silly, and strong too. But mama loves his sweetness the best. </div><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-i6EmyYHaA95Y8UGd0gvyYXPSu6d2bPLkoK-RbnuDT8UNscSHdKFM2vmcG18ES7rXKe20wnwRuIg06yRCdfzHJkJ-HN1UpiUcsIF2Qb7LqkTV7yb0GIojcPNIUn8nEPL7-pSCxUVlH-k/s1600/IMG_3886.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-i6EmyYHaA95Y8UGd0gvyYXPSu6d2bPLkoK-RbnuDT8UNscSHdKFM2vmcG18ES7rXKe20wnwRuIg06yRCdfzHJkJ-HN1UpiUcsIF2Qb7LqkTV7yb0GIojcPNIUn8nEPL7-pSCxUVlH-k/s400/IMG_3886.JPG" /></a><br />
He wonders about the world. He is curious, and he cares about people. He cares enough to ask "Why?" and he takes time to observe quietly. He told me today that he enjoys being alone. At first I was a wee concerned. Maybe my instinct is to not raise a hermit? My dream son won't be trapped in his room playing with his computer all day long. There's so much to learn from interaction, baby. But then he elaborated. "I like to be alone and think up fun stuff to do." Ahhh, the relief. </div><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMeE05VnKgu8WoFDI_ma3rNW3TmAcO3X_fyaSDwBA2TIrxv6rXHCOQgG2vDUWXoFU2tE34t8_syoNe9eybAfQgqeIyqFYgTtFHnwdJc6_qr5-_LLzCpIv0hNIgXt3sZOzZPqu1Mf21xFk/s1600/IMG_3855.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMeE05VnKgu8WoFDI_ma3rNW3TmAcO3X_fyaSDwBA2TIrxv6rXHCOQgG2vDUWXoFU2tE34t8_syoNe9eybAfQgqeIyqFYgTtFHnwdJc6_qr5-_LLzCpIv0hNIgXt3sZOzZPqu1Mf21xFk/s400/IMG_3855.JPG" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: xx-small;">Maybe when he's alone he's a smug little mug.</span></div><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEWT7CDuVX7t_xOCp-lV4DU74_Hgj8ZyPkUN6GB6bVNV3JvMDLuXK47BYi3Rm4K3mINUtvHklkJ505b3Zh0ApwXcpO-ChNpldww5FNFvmYtcIZHbOc0Gs0JHYEXd9oG_mkqRqy-cNthKU/s1600/delmar11.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEWT7CDuVX7t_xOCp-lV4DU74_Hgj8ZyPkUN6GB6bVNV3JvMDLuXK47BYi3Rm4K3mINUtvHklkJ505b3Zh0ApwXcpO-ChNpldww5FNFvmYtcIZHbOc0Gs0JHYEXd9oG_mkqRqy-cNthKU/s400/delmar11.JPG" /></a><br />
Whenever I am playing up sad because his two year old little sister has made a sad choice, he is first to run to me and give me a hug and a kiss. Little Miss Terrible Two hasn't quite caught on... but he always takes care of me. If we have a quiet moment he will lean into me and look up at me and say "I love you, Mommy". The sincerity and love there melts me. Oh his wedding day will be so joyous but a part of my heart will break a little. To think all of his heart used to belong to me. </div><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmKmu-t1kAc-XhiYM0_q7lfH1SYzpv43ojeJzwfFBfU4zpsdogSgU-5ix6LKJuhyGcu0bNZUGKMhWTAnRYJsdw7NXH5yv8nGuQbDSzaK0q4fUS2bSrh0bYYnEeG8xKFCcXWlbBa3mKHkY/s1600/delmar002.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmKmu-t1kAc-XhiYM0_q7lfH1SYzpv43ojeJzwfFBfU4zpsdogSgU-5ix6LKJuhyGcu0bNZUGKMhWTAnRYJsdw7NXH5yv8nGuQbDSzaK0q4fUS2bSrh0bYYnEeG8xKFCcXWlbBa3mKHkY/s400/delmar002.JPG" /></a><br />
If I am honest, I know this affection is not just with me. He tells his daddy, his grandparents, his sister, and his dog that he loves them. He is so giving with his love. When Devyn is sad or mad he goes to her and tries to show her the ways he's learned at school to calm down. When she's hurt he asks if she's okay. He will bring her a toy. He goes into her room at night to hug her and climb onto her bed and kiss her forehead ever so gently. </div><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPpSeTvBGONLFai8Zhwsn08YnRsA8-23nRCQsZkWak060FW3_8kdLyZOMBIREVot9-syABxD3YvQNytIG51FO2RsjN8EFKMbKCwAy4bW0twtTFpqFCISgAma0DN8ZwYyfyTdQqRKyUkOk/s1600/delmar8.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPpSeTvBGONLFai8Zhwsn08YnRsA8-23nRCQsZkWak060FW3_8kdLyZOMBIREVot9-syABxD3YvQNytIG51FO2RsjN8EFKMbKCwAy4bW0twtTFpqFCISgAma0DN8ZwYyfyTdQqRKyUkOk/s400/delmar8.JPG" /></a><br />
My favorite things he says:<br />
"You are my best mommy I ever saw in this world."<br />
(and I'm the only one that gave birth to all 8 lbs 6 oz of you....)<br />
"I love you Mommy, you are my best friend."<br />
"Ooh, you look pretty Mommy. I like that!" <br />
<br />
His future wife (or hubs, we're liberal!) will be so lucky. <br />
Whoever you are, Welcome to the Family. Just remember, I was his first love. </div><div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'><a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'><img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /></a></div>Hilaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05092823553746648140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497158732949398889.post-81548216918844860852013-09-30T17:39:00.001-05:002013-09-30T17:39:50.910-05:00T is for teary<br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDox-uKc6QOSdi3ATfKkrLp4xZywFlhtpQUpl8Kg2OQ9ioLdKDrr9ADH5YIV7XkJzC29XbDVYiG7Jke1vWMuQ9KBiyCrv7Nt-1Ao5oD9MFVJolUtj_yO8L76PNhZv8a_urI_2IjNw7RLA/s640/blogger-image--1438929171.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDox-uKc6QOSdi3ATfKkrLp4xZywFlhtpQUpl8Kg2OQ9ioLdKDrr9ADH5YIV7XkJzC29XbDVYiG7Jke1vWMuQ9KBiyCrv7Nt-1Ao5oD9MFVJolUtj_yO8L76PNhZv8a_urI_2IjNw7RLA/s640/blogger-image--1438929171.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Cade is officially in pre-k this year! And every time I see a handwriting worksheet I get teary. It is so sweet to see him practice his handwriting, he tries so hard. Is my baby seriously old enough for a pencil?? Of course, but it makes me proud and sad that he's growing up. Only in motherhood can such a contradiction of emotions occur. </div>Hilaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05092823553746648140noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497158732949398889.post-46802331685634801812013-09-08T09:39:00.001-05:002013-09-08T09:39:48.232-05:00It's soccer time!!<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"> </div><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkCSth-O43iPVVqNIEmf2YjySPrzVPSOIbO_y_IW88ImART8vwOUTj_NllAkLRx6HMDrvZ5AH_Q_8B7ZV6cEMoaEfJBzhuz_F61gbHuJfjPrbSEo8d_TomwnHh9a_KnGedIY8g9_42H9A/s1600/soccer8.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkCSth-O43iPVVqNIEmf2YjySPrzVPSOIbO_y_IW88ImART8vwOUTj_NllAkLRx6HMDrvZ5AH_Q_8B7ZV6cEMoaEfJBzhuz_F61gbHuJfjPrbSEo8d_TomwnHh9a_KnGedIY8g9_42H9A/s400/soccer8.JPG" /></a> </div><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">Excuse the lame MC Hammer reference. <br />
That's aging right there. Kids these days have no idea who that even is. Ridic. <br />
Anyways, we had our first game of the season yesterday! <br />
I completely forgot how much I have watching the kids play. <br />
They are so cute in their tiny shoes and shinguards. <br />
Oversized jerseys and shorts that cover their knees. <br />
<br />
I can't even handle how proud I am when I see my kid running down the field, breaking away from the pack and scoring a goal. Or four. And two assists, Grammie is very proud of those assists, do NOT forget the assists because those goals woud have never happened without him she says. <br />
<br />
I understand that pride though. Cause I feel it. I don't think it's just pride that he scored. It's pride that he was having fun working with a team. Seeing him smile while doing something athletic. Knowing that being a part of a team, any team, is so important as a life skill. It's cool to move into this phase of childhood where it's all about soccer practice and homework. <br />
<br />
Speaking of pre-k, let's discuss his first homework assignment...<br />
Find something with the letter C to bring for show & tell. He rejected car, cat, cow, and went with his cape. Super cool because it's his super Cade cape and had a letter C on it. Double C's, baby! I asked him what his friends brought in and he said, cars, cats, and courage. Wtf- courage?! Who the heck? I may have confronted the mamas at Saturday's birthday party to ask who was responsible for that one. They all denied it. So, I'm secure in our friendship and understanding with those mamas. No over-achieving pretentious homework doing helicopter mamas in this group. #Relief. Maybe the teacher taught them about courage? Like vocab lesson #1? <br />
<br />
I decided to ask him what other letters he knows and he said "B!" Of course, because Batman starts with B. I asked him what starts with B and he answered, "Beer, Bats, and Batman!" I thought surely I had misheard my little angel, so I said "What's that, sweetie? Bear? Cheer?" He said, "No, beer! Beer, beer, beer!" Damn. Damn, damn, damn. That's word #1 my kid knows? What are they teaching him in school? Ha. Ohhhhh, jeez. So I said, "What's beer?" And he said, "What Mommy and Daddy drink." Oh... "What's bats, sweetie?" He says, "Dark night bats." I say, "What's Batman?" He says, "Dark knight Bruce Wayne." Oh-kay. Wonderful. <br />
<br />
Thanking God Nick and I didn't prank his teacher as we had planned. We wanted to send him with a Coors Light, sack of sugar (Crack), and some condoms. Apparently he will take care of the humiliation on his own. Let's hope they don't study B for another few weeks so I can practice some more appropriate words. </div><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDK_0YLTm8CldkKWEvATulKOTEKNa7l3bsIB2qOuI2FNu0-wJgCHSBxkbUuKhZAKhr41bjasaPIQgJw5c7mNQz_gncOjfXn2eb_nxjI3pQvvIMvaS_4wbErR_VIp1SFCl3zGIWewqm9TU/s1600/soccer12.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDK_0YLTm8CldkKWEvATulKOTEKNa7l3bsIB2qOuI2FNu0-wJgCHSBxkbUuKhZAKhr41bjasaPIQgJw5c7mNQz_gncOjfXn2eb_nxjI3pQvvIMvaS_4wbErR_VIp1SFCl3zGIWewqm9TU/s400/soccer12.JPG" /></a> </div><div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'><a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'><img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /></a></div>Hilaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05092823553746648140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497158732949398889.post-33080768058063828182013-09-04T21:00:00.001-05:002013-09-04T21:01:02.106-05:00Wordless Wednesday<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">Pics from Balboa Park in San Diego, California<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLpG5Xl7gX3BlPh8hySEoAi-B__JjDWO2y24Iplhchk1Js9mPknA9N59gk8bF3PfqnuMxcjLyxZIPUr9dmvfM0yg9wbEeGJ1cGJDQuPxEl47qKIqhquZ-CXu1_bYEM-d5gRqvo7EOlFSY/s1600/IMG_3829.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLpG5Xl7gX3BlPh8hySEoAi-B__JjDWO2y24Iplhchk1Js9mPknA9N59gk8bF3PfqnuMxcjLyxZIPUr9dmvfM0yg9wbEeGJ1cGJDQuPxEl47qKIqhquZ-CXu1_bYEM-d5gRqvo7EOlFSY/s400/IMG_3829.JPG" /></a> </div><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOQooiolaOpziHi65P8zypVvyMD0iVyajHhvphaUOn7huWKKU2hlGCT3C2vjgUyROL58OZ2eNhWGyi1aLuMkv_Ii4boVFaU4k2fsoTT5fbSv2cxLOkRx1Vp4deIEd9lSOlk7RF8SHgOq4/s1600/fountain3.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOQooiolaOpziHi65P8zypVvyMD0iVyajHhvphaUOn7huWKKU2hlGCT3C2vjgUyROL58OZ2eNhWGyi1aLuMkv_Ii4boVFaU4k2fsoTT5fbSv2cxLOkRx1Vp4deIEd9lSOlk7RF8SHgOq4/s400/fountain3.JPG" /></a> </div><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlaZUBdPsR3RRbPQHhsRiOKcDTfFTfLPkdnsgWvpKxwzspqr-YwcSAGGWojU20rM4dIIwgz6IASuzmrPQ-1_X22-gfme_e8bC3L48SdpOY2giJSVZmklotO4pWgI-02dLnZ3fhdujxD6M/s1600/fountain4.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlaZUBdPsR3RRbPQHhsRiOKcDTfFTfLPkdnsgWvpKxwzspqr-YwcSAGGWojU20rM4dIIwgz6IASuzmrPQ-1_X22-gfme_e8bC3L48SdpOY2giJSVZmklotO4pWgI-02dLnZ3fhdujxD6M/s400/fountain4.JPG" /></a> </div><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOSbbO29iqCrBjMnZ2QzG-2OTRMjNzugjuzcl5SMxgYtA0RtYSKZ_Jovgv8IO3Or7Yv7K4u1yNSi59wazfd11GCJq3wedYbrczk7ZOsIeZOurC3DSmuCO1GNI0f9zhqf0R7GKUGuVdY4M/s1600/fountain2.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOSbbO29iqCrBjMnZ2QzG-2OTRMjNzugjuzcl5SMxgYtA0RtYSKZ_Jovgv8IO3Or7Yv7K4u1yNSi59wazfd11GCJq3wedYbrczk7ZOsIeZOurC3DSmuCO1GNI0f9zhqf0R7GKUGuVdY4M/s400/fountain2.JPG" /></a> </div><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz7lB3vDiXgis2C_C1u75WVHl5CP53HeqccqklNvkqDWa304dt4LkMs1t4doFh0tTin551ax4jBsniYX9_ozcyn60-Rns7P1NBQ1D63BdkeEVjIkki8IbtHqoiwt7R683av_M4wJ__41k/s1600/fountain.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz7lB3vDiXgis2C_C1u75WVHl5CP53HeqccqklNvkqDWa304dt4LkMs1t4doFh0tTin551ax4jBsniYX9_ozcyn60-Rns7P1NBQ1D63BdkeEVjIkki8IbtHqoiwt7R683av_M4wJ__41k/s400/fountain.JPG" /></a> </div><div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'><a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'><img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /></a></div>Hilaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05092823553746648140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497158732949398889.post-12646049336762198502013-09-01T10:28:00.001-05:002013-09-01T10:28:45.833-05:00Family Love<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAyRiLqLzeZGFiMNC970pvljat3XlClCpBg2wY8K_vlJL7BkQX53a7_CYAVjqXBF6rK7mqJyOitbvH60oo2jcb1pkGW6qsB1SBoQvx0J2izh_j9xOojTaymVhV8qsPL1InQnYP9115-8g/s1600/family+2.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAyRiLqLzeZGFiMNC970pvljat3XlClCpBg2wY8K_vlJL7BkQX53a7_CYAVjqXBF6rK7mqJyOitbvH60oo2jcb1pkGW6qsB1SBoQvx0J2izh_j9xOojTaymVhV8qsPL1InQnYP9115-8g/s400/family+2.jpg" /></a> </div><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_EbMILJlD4dEKosZ4sN8LBRos-F7bpf7N7BrqqJAUUoIqhFohX56K3aIbV9kOWVwHsn3d-0G5mihKAWV_7sJcxhuQM1eZzb9Rrx8t8rb5VVbbfLCPG2OAt8jtPN_RoHO5BEJC7z75BDQ/s1600/family+3.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_EbMILJlD4dEKosZ4sN8LBRos-F7bpf7N7BrqqJAUUoIqhFohX56K3aIbV9kOWVwHsn3d-0G5mihKAWV_7sJcxhuQM1eZzb9Rrx8t8rb5VVbbfLCPG2OAt8jtPN_RoHO5BEJC7z75BDQ/s400/family+3.jpg" /></a><br />
Time for a little Labor Day weekend reflecting on our summer. <br />
Because this blog is my diary to my kids, I get to gush a little sometimes. <br />
This is one of those times. <br />
<br />
When we travelled together this summer we learned a few things about ourselves:<br />
1. We pack the biggest food bag of anyone on any of our four flights. One momma had a clever little bead box filled with various healthy snacks. I had my gym bag packed with 12 pounds of food. One man in his 70s asked me while we waited for a connecting flight, "Is that really a bag full of just food?" I thought he might be hungry so I offered some, but turns out he didn't want teddy grahams, pretzels, fruit snacks, lollipops, Twizzlers, mini sammies, squeeze fruit, pb crackers, or M&Ms. Picky man. I don't know, maybe I watched too much Lost.... I might have to run from polar bears if we get stranded on an island from hell, but I will NOT starve to death. Nope.<br />
2. Speaking of food, Twizzlers cures any roadtrip meltdown. <br />
3. Hotel rooms with bunk beds for the kids? Seemed genius, but it was a disaster from minute one. <br />
4. I really missed my DVR, but I had Candy Crush and went up like 20 levels on each trip, so that started a new addiction. <br />
5. I learned that the whole family would have appreciated an itinterary. This is HUGE. The next family vacay will def be spelled out on a color-coded Excel document. Careful whatcha wish for, fams!<br />
6. Nick and I definitely bonded over time at the beach with the kids. Just us, the water, the sand, some magazines... It was awesome. Everyone got into their own groove and it was perfect to just relax and enjoy nature and each other. <br />
7. Trying new things together and making memories. That's what family travel is all about, right? Going to Sea World and watching the kids see whales for the first time, such a beautiful moment. Riding a kid-size amusement rides was a first and so exciting to get a taste of future fun to come. <br />
Taking Cade to his first baseball game and seeing him get into it and catch the Padres spirit was a blast. Seeing Nick watch Cade as we sang the National Anthem before the game started and tear up when we all yelled "Play ball!" was a highlight. Devyn's breathy "Oh, Mommy, loooook!" when she got her first glimpse of the ocean.... my number one moment. Love at first sight for the kids in California made us seriously consider how we could move our family out there. <br />
8. Coming home. All that said, coming home. Seeing each other in a new light made us appreciate our home and the life we've made here and the family we've created made us not take any of it for granted. <br />
<br />
Mommy and Daddy always love you guys. <br />
Every moment, little and big.</div><div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'><a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'><img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /></a></div>Hilaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05092823553746648140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497158732949398889.post-23524639844524811682013-08-26T20:57:00.002-05:002013-08-26T20:57:15.422-05:00Best Buds<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgamYn_4oqqYKBidX4AqtObfEITrdQkB_1swh3Od9YrPnszKhUxHumbbQifSi6qZA9F_xWYvL8yVRP4Cmu_QYgfqxETPquXHTIBaA8Cgqfnvgj8NY3UV0H6sh8z5SU5lPU1cYKTwvfytVc/s1600/delmar1.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgamYn_4oqqYKBidX4AqtObfEITrdQkB_1swh3Od9YrPnszKhUxHumbbQifSi6qZA9F_xWYvL8yVRP4Cmu_QYgfqxETPquXHTIBaA8Cgqfnvgj8NY3UV0H6sh8z5SU5lPU1cYKTwvfytVc/s400/delmar1.JPG" /></a><br />
Oh, these two. <br />
I love them together. <br />
She adores him. Every breath he takes, every move he makes, she watches and copies him. <br />
He loves her. He looks out for her and he teaches her how to play. And he occasionally gets annoyed at her repeating everything he says. <br />
And I can't help but laugh at how funny she is when she repeats him. <br />
Especially when he's talking in his Dark Knight Batman voice and she repeats that in a low, gravelly baby voice. Freaking hilarious. And so annoying if you're four years old and trying to be a badass.</div>
<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijfnev1dz37yLI3gag4qLwQp4jjam4nfkR4eJDSEm4SY8yr0gw3uxoHsqzFANeReP9WEcg-tSEJwXCg80oobz2GS2dYj0MnZUmdUo1cJgLsCVvLSZoXDeSoS4H86XpJa5v3MaIxnO7sAg/s1600/delmar2.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijfnev1dz37yLI3gag4qLwQp4jjam4nfkR4eJDSEm4SY8yr0gw3uxoHsqzFANeReP9WEcg-tSEJwXCg80oobz2GS2dYj0MnZUmdUo1cJgLsCVvLSZoXDeSoS4H86XpJa5v3MaIxnO7sAg/s400/delmar2.JPG" /></a><br />
But this. <br />
They have each other. <br />
Always. <br />
Tonight she got in trouble for trying to drink out of everyone's cups. <br />
And for deliberately refusing to acknowledge the word "No". <br />
So she cried. <br />
And ran to her big brother and he hugged her. And told her it's okay. <br />
Even though it's not. <br />
It's SO very not okay to drink Daddy's Mountain Dew at 7:30pm when you're supposed to be giving goodnight hugs and headed to bed so Mommy can work for two hours then maybe have enough energy for a shower and dying of exhaustion. </div>
<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt3_dOjypnWwLFxe7nXpeldENPFKeEU8Yv4YakIPnctSeZF-KvUVLnKzcQx8AH8arwMRVTuZzb6T_YNebwSqJ2KnXtn3-qCZesFSGr9-WIQ6UzlMOaXF2YfyRuWqmtPAwdYUk5Am79QZE/s1600/IMG_00043.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt3_dOjypnWwLFxe7nXpeldENPFKeEU8Yv4YakIPnctSeZF-KvUVLnKzcQx8AH8arwMRVTuZzb6T_YNebwSqJ2KnXtn3-qCZesFSGr9-WIQ6UzlMOaXF2YfyRuWqmtPAwdYUk5Am79QZE/s400/IMG_00043.JPG" /></a><br />
I love moments like this, when they play together, rest together, love together. <br />
It reminds me of how I feel about my little brother. <br />
There's just that connection. <br />
Knowing that God made someone out there who is as close to you as possible without being you. <br />
But that person is so different than you at the same time, and so you learn the most from them. And even if they're the little brother or little sister, there is still so much to learn from them. And look up to them. And love them. <br />
<br />
</div>
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Hilaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05092823553746648140noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497158732949398889.post-56193425557118531402013-08-05T22:33:00.001-05:002013-08-05T22:33:55.367-05:00Our girl is 2!<div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO36PR1SU2ATFwJvsD3pNE6sQuf0CTEoLUrVizBVCW59DGDu1WDXXkOpmDxOdYwxy95j5fLdQ3YzNFSIyxtA-y-Hen6zEfhK7MTVzgrG6oFI-eNMGmtp6wz36LA22H1ZyBROSIeqEaWII/s1600/bday4.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO36PR1SU2ATFwJvsD3pNE6sQuf0CTEoLUrVizBVCW59DGDu1WDXXkOpmDxOdYwxy95j5fLdQ3YzNFSIyxtA-y-Hen6zEfhK7MTVzgrG6oFI-eNMGmtp6wz36LA22H1ZyBROSIeqEaWII/s400/bday4.JPG" /></a><br />
Oh, sweet face. <br />
You are mommy's baby doll. <br />
And now, you are two years old. </div><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKmU8jxdt144_Qr2KFGwrrcMGqqNkIj6wKBjxXVPFpMIfecDVWUpAK6S23zNojbIC346V7pGUhK_w6FQJC0KXfQNrkEb1vrg9GIkWqgIUDH5ZBG6quCC8lLYIrugzjg3dRj4EE3uXQeto/s1600/bday3.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKmU8jxdt144_Qr2KFGwrrcMGqqNkIj6wKBjxXVPFpMIfecDVWUpAK6S23zNojbIC346V7pGUhK_w6FQJC0KXfQNrkEb1vrg9GIkWqgIUDH5ZBG6quCC8lLYIrugzjg3dRj4EE3uXQeto/s400/bday3.JPG" /></a><br />
Batman, Mommy, Daddy, and Devyn</div><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjww6uv41sipbmFab9aW4CCGBtsyeu__NjAG5Jw1He5iuHRBZts6DqFEhEeLNTIOh1Rsq9UaeN1CKficrDlXuFak6mN-HxkGyEWz9zYaGzort95EzQZvoLCs3VAjwRuztI22aOUrkwjn44/s1600/IMG_3484.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjww6uv41sipbmFab9aW4CCGBtsyeu__NjAG5Jw1He5iuHRBZts6DqFEhEeLNTIOh1Rsq9UaeN1CKficrDlXuFak6mN-HxkGyEWz9zYaGzort95EzQZvoLCs3VAjwRuztI22aOUrkwjn44/s400/IMG_3484.JPG" /></a><br />
Devy got a big wheels for her birthday!<br />
And makes no effort to pedal, so "maybe later" on her front. </div><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdldjyqPfrTPRQ0EhveFLQ8oKvhtHzqh_zL_oXWh2HsAAL9Kaf_9npr9QWcxjQu2Gf9kra3KzjnLSpNVyc7qPZvQgredhrf7_2n2eoBLy4npLIEPE9qgqaxNYhGSE5PJIRLVlAr_I0l1E/s1600/bday2.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdldjyqPfrTPRQ0EhveFLQ8oKvhtHzqh_zL_oXWh2HsAAL9Kaf_9npr9QWcxjQu2Gf9kra3KzjnLSpNVyc7qPZvQgredhrf7_2n2eoBLy4npLIEPE9qgqaxNYhGSE5PJIRLVlAr_I0l1E/s400/bday2.JPG" /></a><br />
Grammie and Grandaddy bought Devyn clothes for her baby doll, which she got last year and fell in love with. So sweet to see her be loving to her baby doll. </div><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDnCQW01OUgPfeeTuGdjQHREHWuQS0zwIalhr5Tx3JxPXEGTFKO3kFvWJwODoM_BZS0dH762pF7Yg8SYCbR2X09V9J4MMwpYWYtH9FtxUFAW5ipEzfZ3J232T5bSVCF17gxusySDj-Ohw/s1600/bday5.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDnCQW01OUgPfeeTuGdjQHREHWuQS0zwIalhr5Tx3JxPXEGTFKO3kFvWJwODoM_BZS0dH762pF7Yg8SYCbR2X09V9J4MMwpYWYtH9FtxUFAW5ipEzfZ3J232T5bSVCF17gxusySDj-Ohw/s400/bday5.JPG" /></a><br />
As always, the girl loves to eat. Her hot pink cake that Daddy picked out was no different. <br />
Chow down, little love!<br />
Always, always, always make room for cake. </div><div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUQDg8BHmtBynmWRcOnSpLIULIm-0kzX6akU7pXLg8zoPpmQJiR8ROpGGB41zEufxl3jtfSRg9pEMLmSMeuf1PcLncEJfHFpwG_eTYm19QP7IOoCN5GhkwTG0PDSdElJvuCkQvBXI_saY/s1600/bday6-001.JPG"><img alt="" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUQDg8BHmtBynmWRcOnSpLIULIm-0kzX6akU7pXLg8zoPpmQJiR8ROpGGB41zEufxl3jtfSRg9pEMLmSMeuf1PcLncEJfHFpwG_eTYm19QP7IOoCN5GhkwTG0PDSdElJvuCkQvBXI_saY/s400/bday6-001.JPG" /></a><br />
Yes, those are pink eyebrows. <br />
Sugar and spice and LOTS of sweet icing!</div><div style='clear:both; text-align:CENTER'><a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'><img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /></a></div>Hilaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05092823553746648140noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497158732949398889.post-24161834203026432492013-08-05T22:17:00.002-05:002013-08-05T22:17:45.599-05:00Chicken Caesar pasta salad<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
I don't know what I loved more tonight: my dinner or the season finale of Desiree's Bachelorette season. I think I'm going to go with dinner, because I wanted seconds of that. </div>
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</div>
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But first, my take on the Bachelorette. </div>
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1. Brooks made the biggest mistake of his life. I like a guy with a softer side, but he's too soft. And missed out big time. And doesn't know what love is. Ouch, I'm bru-tal tonight. </div>
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2. Drew is so sweet and classy. Any man who understands and loves someone with special needs would be an amazing husband and father. </div>
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3. Chris keeps getting more good looking every episode. Or is it his tan? Or was it the suit with sexy tie-tack. Did I just say "sexy tie-tack"?</div>
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4. Usually I don't like the girls' dresses on the After the Final Rose episode, but Des looks amazing. When I'm done with this post I'm going to Google the Desiree Hartsock meal plan. I will eat whatever that girl eats if it means I can have those abs. Even queso. No, not queso. Ever. </div>
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Dinner....mmmmm! Hotter than a hot tub with Zack and James. (My hottie faves this season. Yes, James was swoon-worthy despite questionable behavior and the horrible purple polo.) </div>
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I was inspired by <a href="http://pinterest.com/pin/9992430395677595/" target="_blank">this pin</a> on my <a href="http://pinterest.com/lambiemommy/things-to-eat/" target="_blank">Things to Eat board</a>. The Bowtie Chicken Caesar salad from The Girl Who Ate Everything blog. <a href="http://www.the-girl-who-ate-everything.com/2010/04/bowtie-chicken-caesar-salad.html" target="_blank">Link to this awesome foodie blog here</a>. It reminded me of a meal they serve at Cheddar's Restaurant, the chicken caesar pasta salad. Which when I waited tables there (and met my husband) I HATED because they served it over pasta with alfredo, ew. And writing the server's shortcut for that meal was a pain. CCPS? CC pas? I always forgot what abbreviation to use so I'd get to my Squirrel machine to put in the order and sit there like "wth". I think I just wrote "eww" a few times on my pad as I smiled and said "Great choice!" to the customer. Yup, so inspired for my dinner, right? But a lot of people liked that. So when I saw the pin that looked extra tasty I thought it was worth a go. An adapted go. Because I am iffy on bowtie pasta. Love it at La Madeleine, hate it most everywhere else. I love me some penne. Some whole wheat penne. Mmm... So, check out the pic of my meal. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid4wzDLL_Y3gNsBvg8earhcgaYoUYzSe1O9n8vnv1ktHikcffzckkGSzw1xIobMseuyk_kABao5nfUuY0FTCiv1AfKgm-Qy479_oQn508shVMeKD4jU0X47SQfMV_N0XfGn_-vjM3aZhA/s640/blogger-image--1934415419.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid4wzDLL_Y3gNsBvg8earhcgaYoUYzSe1O9n8vnv1ktHikcffzckkGSzw1xIobMseuyk_kABao5nfUuY0FTCiv1AfKgm-Qy479_oQn508shVMeKD4jU0X47SQfMV_N0XfGn_-vjM3aZhA/s640/blogger-image--1934415419.jpg" /></a></div>
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Taste-tastic, right?</div>
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My recipe:</div>
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1. Boil your noodle of choice: bowtie or penne. (Go penne!)</div>
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2. Chop romaine. (I like to wash and chop mine when I get home from the store and put it a Rubbermaid vegetable foodsaver container.)</div>
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3. Drain and let pasta cool. </div>
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4. Sautee diced chicken (I use the frozen pre-diced chicken) with olive oil, 1 tbs minced garlic, and Mrs. Dash. </div>
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5. Chop cooked diced chicken. Let cool. </div>
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6. Put noodles in the bottom of the bowl, add romaine and chicken on top. Accessorize with toasted pine nuts, parmesan cheese (or Italian cheese mix - I did it both ways tonight! yum!), capers (if you have them), heirloom tomatoes (if you have them, I didn't, lames), croutons if you wish, and black olives (of course - every meal worth its whatever has black olives. I'm obsessed.) Pine Nuts are amazing, high in protein and iron, great for heart health, vision, energy boosting, and weight suppressing. Pine Nut donuts anyone? Try them in your pasta too, mmm so good! They make a meal. Love them!</div>
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7. Sprinkle some milled chia seed on top. What's chia, you ask? As in Chia Pet? Yes. Chia is a great source of vitamins and fiber. <a href="http://www.revitaliseyourhealth.com/benefits-of-chia-seeds/" target="_blank">Read more here about the benefits of chia</a>. I mix it in my yogurt, pasta sauce, taco meat, anything. It's got a slightly nutty flavor but no calories and so many benefits for you. </div>
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8. Chill the whole shebang in the fridge while you play a few rounds of Candy Crush. </div>
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9. Finish it off with a drizzle of your fave Caesar dressing. I second The Girl Who Eats Everything with the Brianna's asiago Caesar dressing. I drizzled lightly then mixed it as I ate. I hate a soggy Caesar salad drowning in dressing, that ruins it, so if you do that - don't credit me for this recipe. Ha!</div>
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One more pic. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjffnKNGYw87YDQnzdz37N4cFjDFCYwvPQme-C-FsCpr8A9waYQI9RHKuZ4YweJ26FBHTvzwuJ5NaZut2e_XCsIwjz3JT4qHiejsSawvFTHIWMjkTKHyxU6dHb48-xpdDLcNuQEXPwQ12g/s640/blogger-image--345385968.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjffnKNGYw87YDQnzdz37N4cFjDFCYwvPQme-C-FsCpr8A9waYQI9RHKuZ4YweJ26FBHTvzwuJ5NaZut2e_XCsIwjz3JT4qHiejsSawvFTHIWMjkTKHyxU6dHb48-xpdDLcNuQEXPwQ12g/s640/blogger-image--345385968.jpg" /></a></div>
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Periously dangling off the counter is the best way to serve chicken caesar pasta salad. And eating it on the couch after the kids have gone to bed and watching the season finale of the Bachelorette, even better. Finish it before Juan Pablo gets on the screen. Usually a double first name is a deal breaker, but Juan Pablo might be a divorce-maker, am I right ladies? Gorgeous. Put the man back in his chaps, please. I mean, the speedo, put him in the speedo. Wait, the suit is quite nice. Okay, suit jacket, tie, speedo, and chaps. THAT is a recipe for a yummy Juan Pablo. </div>
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Anyways, the recipe was a total winner. I'm thinking for my working mama gals this is the perfect quickie meal. The chicken could be done in the crockpot during the day, the pasta the night before, toss it all together in under 10 minutes. Done. If you cook the pasta and chicken like I did? This was an under 20 minute meal. The kids liked it separated out, no dressing, fruit on the side. "Butter noodles" thrill a kid, right? They did ask me to sprinkle on the cheese and black olives. Clearly I've raised them well. Yes mom, they did say please and thank you. </div>
Hilaryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05092823553746648140noreply@blogger.com0