tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-69567676050365952532024-03-20T04:21:25.628-07:00Morris FamilyShaped By
Grace, Laughter, Joy & TearsAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02346651716896031000noreply@blogger.comBlogger212125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6956767605036595253.post-44034899073375077892012-10-15T18:41:00.001-07:002012-10-15T18:43:35.512-07:00HELP ME!!!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg54TLt6rKkSwLdyw0Gv3JYBv49XjHDtZCVIwX9bu02fmPdjapMRql9jZuR1ubBOaZp21r66PiBb5xygGnquVR9agLwypkQEIP-UANslWutDPFR7i_yqkPa7jfciZVFaD44HQZrBTjiwEA/s1600/100_1346.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg54TLt6rKkSwLdyw0Gv3JYBv49XjHDtZCVIwX9bu02fmPdjapMRql9jZuR1ubBOaZp21r66PiBb5xygGnquVR9agLwypkQEIP-UANslWutDPFR7i_yqkPa7jfciZVFaD44HQZrBTjiwEA/s320/100_1346.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Does anyone know how I can recover my photos on this blog? I have tried sending feedback to blogger, but to no avail.<br />
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Thanks,<br />
Jen<br />
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PS. Cute baby huh?Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02346651716896031000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6956767605036595253.post-54111728851827581402012-03-03T21:41:00.000-08:002012-03-04T11:32:46.589-08:00New BlogI am not sure what has happened to this blog and ALL of my pictures, so I started a new blog at <a href="http://www.littleittybitties.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">www.littleittybitties.blogspot.com</a><br />
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Thanks,<br />
JenAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02346651716896031000noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6956767605036595253.post-45500729767736560102012-01-01T08:08:00.000-08:002012-01-01T08:08:00.235-08:00Broken Resolutions<span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(68, 68, 68); line-height: 18px; font-family:'century gothic', sans-serif;font-size:13px;"><div style="text-align: center; ">Everyone seems Gung-Ho this time of year about listing their New Years resolutions.</div><div style="text-align: center; "><br /></div><div style="text-align: center; ">Well, I am a realist. I know darn well that if I make a resolution, I am going to break it. So I am going to share with you some of my past resolutions...all in which I have broken. Just keeping it real people, just keeping it real.</div><div style="text-align: center; "><br /></div><div style="text-align: center; ">DIET...um yeah, that's a joke!</div><div style="text-align: center; "><br /></div><div style="text-align: center; ">STOP EATING CHOCOLATE...who was I kidding with that one?</div><div style="text-align: center; "><br /></div><div style="text-align: center; ">HAVE MORE PATIENCE...that one lasted about 2 seconds.</div><div style="text-align: center; "><br /></div><div style="text-align: center; ">MAKE A WEEKLY DINNER MENU...well maybe, just maybe, I like going to the grocery store four times a week...so THERE!</div><div style="text-align: center; "><br /></div><div style="text-align: center; ">SAVE MORE MONEY...Wal-Mart would be VERY upset with me if I had stuck with that one.</div><div style="text-align: center; "><br /></div><div style="text-align: center; ">HAVE MORE SELF CONFIDENCE...I wasted my pretty years thinking I was fat and ugly. If I only knew...if I only knew. I still avoid the bathroom mirror on the way into the shower.</div><div style="text-align: center; "><br /></div><div style="text-align: center; ">STOP BEING A PESSIMIST...but my glass is half empty. If you fill it up, I will be happy.</div><div style="text-align: center; "><br /></div><div style="text-align: center; ">TRY TO REMEMBER PEOPLES NAMES...oh, I am sorry, what did you say your name was???</div><div style="text-align: center; "><br /></div><div style="text-align: center; ">Well, I am sure there are a thousand more resolutions I forgot. Oh, that's another one...HAVE A BETTER MEMORY!</div></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02346651716896031000noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6956767605036595253.post-3533859107937625992011-12-31T09:42:00.000-08:002011-12-31T09:42:00.160-08:00Happy Anniversary!!!<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color:#0000EE;"><u><br /></u></span></div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TSYh3gfiXO0/TSlPKZLG5gI/AAAAAAAAB-Q/1NcIPFhqYOI/s1600/DSC_5054_2.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_TSYh3gfiXO0/TSlPKZLG5gI/AAAAAAAAB-Q/1NcIPFhqYOI/s320/DSC_5054_2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560062254940349954" /></a><div><div style="text-align: center;">I carry your heart with me (I carry it in my heart)</div><div style="text-align: center;">I am never without it (anywhere I go, you go, my dear; and whatever is done by only me is your doing, my darling)</div><div style="text-align: center;">I fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet)</div><div style="text-align: center;">I want no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)</div><div style="text-align: center;">And it's you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Here is the deepest secret nobody knows (here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)</div><div style="text-align: center;">And this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I carry your heart (I carry it in my heart) </div><div style="text-align: center;">-E.E. Cummings</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I am truly blessed to have you in my life. I look forward to many, many, many more years together!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Happy Anniversary! </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I love you, my darling!</div><div style="text-align: center;">XOXO</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" color: rgb(68, 68, 68); line-height: 18px; font-family:'century gothic', sans-serif;font-size:13px;"><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-size:small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" ;font-family:arial;"><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family:arial;"><br /></span></div></span></div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02346651716896031000noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6956767605036595253.post-49088725337856852472011-12-15T05:00:00.000-08:002011-12-15T05:00:02.637-08:00{Holiday Eating Tips}<ol><li style="text-align: center;">Avoid carrot sticks. Anyone who puts carrot sticks on a holiday buffet table knows nothing of the Christmas spirit. In fact, if you see carrot sticks, leave immediately. Go next door, where they're serving rum balls.</li><li style="text-align: center;">Drink as much eggnog as you can. And quickly. It's rare. You can't find it any other time of year, but now. Drink it up! Who cares that it has 10, 000 calories in every sip? It's not as if you're going to turn into an eggnog-aholic or something. It's a treat. Enjoy it. Have one for me. Have two. It's later than you think. It's Christmas!</li><li style="text-align: center;">If something comes with gravy, use it. That's the whole point of gravy. Gravy does not stand alone. Pour it on. Make a volcano out of your mashed potatoes. Fill it with gravy. Eat the volcano. Repeat step #3.</li><li style="text-align: center;">As for mashed potatoes, always ask if they're made with skim milk or whole milk. If it's skim, pass. Why bother? It's like buying a sports car with an automatic transmission.</li><li style="text-align: center;">Do not have a snack before going to a party in an effort to control your eating. The whole point of going to a Christmas party is to eat other people's food for free. Lots of it. Hello!?!?!?!</li><li style="text-align: center;">Under no circumstances should you exercise between now and New Year's. You can do that in January when you have nothing else to do. This is the time for long naps, which you'll need after circling the buffet table while carrying a 10-pound plate of food and that vat of eggnog.</li><li style="text-align: center;">If you come across something really good at a buffet table, like frosted Christmas cookies in the shape and size of Santa, position yourself near them and don't budge. Have as many as you can before becoming the center of attention. They're like a beautiful pair of shoes. If you leave them behind, you're never going to see them again.</li><li style="text-align: center;">Same for pies. Apple. Pumpkin. Mincemeat. Have a slice of each. Or if you don't like mincemeat, have two apples and one pumpkin. Always have three. When else do you get to have more than one dessert? Labor Day?</li><li style="text-align: center;">Did someone mention fruitcake? Granted, it's loaded with the mandatory celebratory calories, but avoid it at all cost. I mean, have some standards.</li><li style="text-align: center;">One final tip: If you don't feel terrible when you leave the party or get up from the table, you haven't been paying attention. Re-read tips; start over, but hurry, January is just around the corner. Remember this motto to live by: Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, chocolate in one hand, body thoroughly used up, totally worn out and screaming 'WOO HOO what a ride!'</li></ol>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02346651716896031000noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6956767605036595253.post-3220216340623232922011-09-19T23:01:00.000-07:002011-09-19T23:01:11.479-07:00Happy Birthday Paige!!!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
I can not for the life of me believe that it has been one whole year (More than a year now. I am slow at posting.) since my sweet, beautiful baby girl came into our family. </div>
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We threw her a little party at our house to celebrate. I attempted to make a special cake for Paige. {After I frosted the cake, I pulled the parchment paper out from under the sides of the cake and it started to split. At first it was just a little tear. I was able to "hide" it. Cleaned up the kitchen and threw away the frosting. In the morning, the tear was all the way across the cake. I wanted to cry. Good thing Paige is only 1. She'll never know that I ruinded her cake. Anyways, I thought I would explain this giant crack in the cake.}</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HPAGSkPjxCc/Tngoqlox-5I/AAAAAAAACVs/1LBMshyMyOY/s1600/DSCN1422.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HPAGSkPjxCc/Tngoqlox-5I/AAAAAAAACVs/1LBMshyMyOY/s320/DSCN1422.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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Happy Birthday!!!</div>
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I have to say that when Paige woke up from her nap and saw the decoration in the dining area, her face lit up like a birthday candle. She was SO STINKING EXCITED! It was beyond cute. I wished in that moment that I would have had my camera to capture her beautiful little smile.</div>
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We stuck with the owl theme and made these cute little owl crafts.</div>
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Does she look dazed and confused to you?</div>
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It's my party and I'll cry if I want to!</div>
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You would cry too if they all sung to you...completely off key!</div>
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Much better now that I've had my cake and ice cream!</div>
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Happy Birthday Baby Girl! We are beyond thrilled to have you in our lives!</div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02346651716896031000noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6956767605036595253.post-88013785545413839942011-07-02T06:00:00.000-07:002011-07-02T06:20:27.167-07:00Happy Birthday<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Z_N3lm8-7vQ/Tgdl2PBD2SI/AAAAAAAACTo/zKaJN28fJzc/s1600/Addi%2B12.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="text-align: center;display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 234px; " src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Z_N3lm8-7vQ/Tgdl2PBD2SI/AAAAAAAACTo/zKaJN28fJzc/s320/Addi%2B12.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5622574642213673250" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">I am so lucky I get to be the mother of this precious little angel. I am grateful that she made it to our family safely and that she is the little fighter she is. I probably wouldn't know what I had missed out on then, but knowing what I know now, I would have been devestated had things gone differently! I know that the Lord has a special plan for her. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">These last four years have gone by so quickly. I don't want my baby girl to grow up, but at the same time, I am so dang excited to see the little lady that she turns out to be. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">As I sit here writing this post, Addison came in and I told her what I was doing. The following things are what she wanted me to say about her. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">She is helpful, pretty, nice, beautiful, loves her family and knows that her family loves her, I give her nice things, she gives me nice things, she has the best manners. She says " yes please" and "no thank you".</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">(Then she wanted to type on the post. She did sign it with her name below.)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">rtyuiop[bvfgbnhgdsdfgasffghhhtytujyujygjhgtyhjuhuertfruwcrjygjvhhhfnbghrvfnfcdfsdfgvnh</div><div style="text-align: center;">addison</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">A little funny about Addison. The other day while we were all driving in the car, she asked her dad and I why we didn't name her Princess. Randy answered her honestly and said "We thought about it." (Which is the truth. Randy wouldn't commit to a name for her before she was born, so I threatened him that I was just going to name her Princess Merryweather and that he would just have to deal with it.) Addison then informed her dad and I that we were to call her Princess at home and out in public we could call her Addi/Addison. She said that Princesses were special and she didn't want people to know that she was a Princess or they would take her.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">HAPPY BIRTHDAY BEAUTIFUL GIRL!!!</span></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">WE LOVE YOU SO MUCH!</span></b></div><div><br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02346651716896031000noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6956767605036595253.post-10403232687456558002011-06-22T21:15:00.000-07:002011-06-22T21:43:43.249-07:009 Months<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6PcqmTRyXXQ/TgK-3GiLzRI/AAAAAAAACTg/0k4SoLobhYY/s1600/Paige%2B9.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6PcqmTRyXXQ/TgK-3GiLzRI/AAAAAAAACTg/0k4SoLobhYY/s320/Paige%2B9.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5621265138767875346" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">My little angel is 9 months already. I say this everytime, but time sure does fly by! I can't believe how big this little girl is getting. It feels like only a month ago I went into the hospital to have her, not 9 months. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Paige can now sit up unattended. She is still working on her balance and doesn't quite know how to get out of the sitting position without falling backwards and hitting her noggin on the floor. She HATES the grass, but loves to be outside. Paige loves her sister and wants to do whatever Addison is doing. Okay, she really just wants to put whatever Addison is doing in her mouth. She is kind of a Mama's girl (I'm not complaining). Paige has 5 teeth. She is scooting around like crazy (she's fast). I swear she is going to bypass crawling on her hands and knees and go straight to walking. She loves to stand up. She doesn't want to miss anything. She likes to be apart of the action. If I can't see Paige, all I have to do is walk into Addison's room and will usually find her eating her sister's shoes. She is in love with her Daddy (who isn't?). She loves food. She also loves spitting said food at her mom. She is starting to climb up things, er people. I swear she thinks she is conquering her own Mt. Everest everytime she climbs up me all in an effort to try and get at my glasses or hair. She loves bath time and being naked. She cries and cries when I try and put clothes on her. Paige is still a wonderful sleeper. I'm selfish and hope that she continues to be a good sleeper!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Right now she is at the stage where she can't decide what she wants. Up, down, in, out, on, off, food, no food, to be held, to scoot. We've had a lot of tears this week because she doesn't know what she wants. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;">For the most part though, she is a pretty content baby. She is just happy to be here. And I am beyond happy to have her here. She is a wonderful baby! And a wonderful addition to our family!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uTb741uiMYU/TgK-qo6rJ0I/AAAAAAAACTY/73cKJ2Ak16k/s1600/Weight.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 310px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-uTb741uiMYU/TgK-qo6rJ0I/AAAAAAAACTY/73cKJ2Ak16k/s320/Weight.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5621264924659099458" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Weight: 17 Pounds 3 Ounces = 25th Percentile</div><div><div style="text-align: center;">Length: 28 Inches = 50th Percentile</div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HF3ql6sT3C0/TgK-qfkE6HI/AAAAAAAACTQ/_8QfzWW-paA/s1600/Length.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 303px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HF3ql6sT3C0/TgK-qfkE6HI/AAAAAAAACTQ/_8QfzWW-paA/s320/Length.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5621264922148399218" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div></div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02346651716896031000noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6956767605036595253.post-57185345514487200482011-05-27T21:50:00.000-07:002011-05-27T21:52:46.421-07:00People Of Walmart<div style="text-align: center;">My mother showed me this video today and I couldn't stop laughing! I think they must have filmed some of this at the Vernal Walmart. I swear I had seen some of those people there.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I hope you all laugh as much and as hard as I did!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">ENJOY!!!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe width="560" height="349" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/YvxNgdFeWqM" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02346651716896031000noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6956767605036595253.post-63755737374644800692011-05-20T10:00:00.000-07:002011-05-20T10:00:02.997-07:00Random Thoughts<ul><li>Nothing sucks more than that moment during an argument when you realize you're wrong</li></ul><ul><li>I totally take back all those times I didn't want to nap when I was younger.</li></ul><ul><li>Do you remember when you were a kid, playing Nintendo and it wouldn't work? You'd take the cartridge out, blow in it and that would magically fix the problem. Every kid in America did that, but how did we know how to fix the problem? There was no Internet or message boards or FAQs. We just figured it out. Today's kids are soft.</li></ul><ul><li>There is a great need for sarcasm font.</li></ul><ul><li>Sometimes, I'll watch a movie that I watched when I was younger and suddenly realize that I had no idea what the heck was going on when I first saw it.</li></ul><ul><li>I would rather try to carry 10 plastic grocery bags in each hand than take 2 trips to bring my groceries in.</li></ul><ul><li>Was learning cursive really necessary?</li></ul><ul><li>LOL has gone from meaning "laugh out loud" to "I have nothing else to say".</li></ul><ul><li>I have a hard time deciphering the fine line between boredom and hunger.</li></ul><ul><li>Whenever someone says "I'm not book smart, but I'm street smart" all I hear is "I'm not real smart, but I'm imaginary smart".</li></ul><ul><li>How many times is it appropriate to say "What?" before you just nod and smile because you still didn't hear what they said?</li></ul><ul><li>I love the sense of camaraderie when an entire line of cars team up to prevent an aggressive driver from cutting in front. Stay strong brothers!</li></ul><ul><li>Map Quest really needs to start their directions on #5. I'm pretty sure I know how to get out of my neighborhood.</li></ul><ul><li>Obituaries would be a lot more interesting if they told you how the person died.</li></ul><ul><li>I find it hard to believe there are actually people who get in the shower first and THEN turn on the water.</li></ul><ul><li>I can't remember the last time I wasn't at least <i>kind</i> of tired.</li></ul><ul><li>Whenever I'm Facebook stalking someone and I find out that their profile is public I feel like a kid on Christmas morning who just got the Red Ryder BB gun that they always wanted. 546 pictures? Don't mind if I do!</li></ul><ul><li>Is it just me or do high school girls get sluttier and sluttier every year?</li></ul><ul><li>Why is it that during an ice-breaker, when the whole room has to go around and say their name and where they are from, I suddenly get so incredibly nervous? I know my name. I know where I'm from. This shouldn't be a problem....</li></ul><ul><li>You never know when it will strike, but there comes a moment at work when you've made up your mind that you aren't doing anything productive for the rest of the day.</li></ul><ul><li>Can we all just agree to ignore whatever comes after DVDs? I don't want to have to restart my collection.</li></ul><ul><li>There is no worse feeling than that millisecond you're sure you are going to die after leaning your chair back a little to far.</li></ul><ul><li>I'm always slightly terrified when I exit out of Word or Pages and it asks me if I want to save any changes to my ten page research paper that I swear I did not make any changes to.</li></ul><ul><li>When I meet a new person, I'm terrified of mentioning something they haven't told me but that I have learned from some light Internet stalking.</li></ul><ul><li>I like all the music in my iTunes, except when it's on shuffle. Then I like about one in every fifteen songs in my iTunes.</li></ul><ul><li>Sometimes I'll look down at my watch 3 consecutive times and still not know what time it is.</li></ul><ul><li>I wonder if cops ever get annoyed at the fact that everyone they drive behind obeys the speed limit.</li></ul><ul><li>Even if I knew your social security number, I wouldn't know what to do with it.</li></ul>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02346651716896031000noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6956767605036595253.post-74680117307807216942011-05-03T14:25:00.000-07:002011-05-03T14:25:00.397-07:00Lucky Duck<div style="text-align: center;">We are so lucky to live where we do. As I was making lunch, I looked out my back window and saw these little fellers having what looks like a lesson in our backyard. These ducks actually live on the other side of the fence, but the kept sneaking back over into our yard when they thought I wasn't looking. They would hurry and run back to their own yard when they saw me standing at the sliding glass door. Who needs Baby Animal Days when you have this and much more living just beyond the fence?</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mrO7Pc_bcFU/Tb3P_KoHnUI/AAAAAAAACS8/0Yc7selmlw0/s1600/DSCN1199.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mrO7Pc_bcFU/Tb3P_KoHnUI/AAAAAAAACS8/0Yc7selmlw0/s320/DSCN1199.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5601862195610099010" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02346651716896031000noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6956767605036595253.post-54943827619161450492011-05-01T14:17:00.001-07:002011-05-01T14:24:12.060-07:00Easter 2011<div style="text-align: center;">We had a great Easter this year. The Easter bunny was tricky tricky and came to our house while we were all taking naps. (The Easter bunny must know that we have 9 AM church.)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Addison woke up from her little nap on the couch and right away spotted some gifts that were left for both her and her sister. We are so lucky! This year, the Easter bunny brought our family the movie '<a href="http://adisney.go.com/disneypictures/tangled/">Tangled</a>'. We have watched it so many times. (I secretly think Randy loves this movie!) The girls also got mini pillow pets, outdoor toys & bubbles and of course, Addison got spoiled with anything and everything Disney Princess. I think the Easter bunny spoiled two very special girls this year!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-K5MQsDjPzzk/Tb3NEUaVT4I/AAAAAAAACS0/BuVOrJEIskE/s1600/DSCN1180.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-K5MQsDjPzzk/Tb3NEUaVT4I/AAAAAAAACS0/BuVOrJEIskE/s320/DSCN1180.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5601858985601093506" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3WND28pwAQM/Tb3NEDNt4LI/AAAAAAAACSs/y5naSHC_O10/s1600/DSCN1185.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3WND28pwAQM/Tb3NEDNt4LI/AAAAAAAACSs/y5naSHC_O10/s320/DSCN1185.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5601858980984774834" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yKvWVqXmu0o/Tb3NDiTuaZI/AAAAAAAACSk/ehVmzOY2XJM/s1600/DSCN1186.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yKvWVqXmu0o/Tb3NDiTuaZI/AAAAAAAACSk/ehVmzOY2XJM/s320/DSCN1186.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5601858972151605650" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">(My attempt to take the girls photos. Not very successful, I think)</div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JhN_OmYUs5Q/Tb3NDfx4fQI/AAAAAAAACSc/uB7DwdmvfNI/s1600/DSCN1187.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-JhN_OmYUs5Q/Tb3NDfx4fQI/AAAAAAAACSc/uB7DwdmvfNI/s320/DSCN1187.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5601858971472788738" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PZd7KwDdgwA/Tb3NDPPng3I/AAAAAAAACSU/gv6nVI1XbhI/s1600/DSCN1192.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PZd7KwDdgwA/Tb3NDPPng3I/AAAAAAAACSU/gv6nVI1XbhI/s320/DSCN1192.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5601858967034102642" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02346651716896031000noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6956767605036595253.post-76172095588422237212011-04-29T18:58:00.000-07:002011-04-29T19:03:37.845-07:00FINALLY<div style="text-align: center;">We have lived in our house for nearly two years now and I FINALLY got around to getting our entrance way <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">cubby</span> filled. I have to say that I am in love with this space now. I can't stop staring at it as I walk down my hallway. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5gYnFrOATjA/TbttENWS-WI/AAAAAAAACSM/9C7SCF3RP28/s1600/DSCN1193.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5gYnFrOATjA/TbttENWS-WI/AAAAAAAACSM/9C7SCF3RP28/s320/DSCN1193.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5601190480635427170" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iLe_UP4KUFo/TbttD5ZqInI/AAAAAAAACSE/LigaZ5pAAeQ/s1600/DSCN1194.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-iLe_UP4KUFo/TbttD5ZqInI/AAAAAAAACSE/LigaZ5pAAeQ/s320/DSCN1194.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5601190475280818802" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Eventually we will get the rest of our house filled. But what's the rush? We still have 28 years left on our mortgage! </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">A special shout out to my sister in law Shirley for helping me pick out these fantastic items! Thank you for all of your help!</span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02346651716896031000noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6956767605036595253.post-48484949650705627472011-04-26T21:30:00.001-07:002011-04-26T21:40:36.139-07:00Happy Girl<div style="text-align: center;">Oh how I would loved to have had this happy little girl today. Her second tooth is finally making it's appearance (for good, I hope) and she was incredibly needy today. I don't think it helped that I had a headache from H.E. double hocky sticks and Addison has strep. None of us were on our game today.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">However, Paige was an incredibly happy girl the other day. Her daddy pulled her jumperoo out of storage and put it together for her. This little girl lights up everytime she gets in it. (Today was no exception, except that it was short lived. LOL) </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1rcVPN5pkXg/TbecLw-ajII/AAAAAAAACR4/FJNZe7hDr2M/s1600/Happy%2BGirl%2B1.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1rcVPN5pkXg/TbecLw-ajII/AAAAAAAACR4/FJNZe7hDr2M/s320/Happy%2BGirl%2B1.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600116387597683842" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-N43LGDV5h_4/TbecLvbrkuI/AAAAAAAACRw/Ij_jaTFHcSg/s1600/Happy%2BGirl%2B2.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-N43LGDV5h_4/TbecLvbrkuI/AAAAAAAACRw/Ij_jaTFHcSg/s320/Happy%2BGirl%2B2.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600116387183563490" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-65pq9fJ9F-s/TbecLYGoXHI/AAAAAAAACRo/m4L7XvfJACE/s1600/Happy%2BGirl%2B3.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-65pq9fJ9F-s/TbecLYGoXHI/AAAAAAAACRo/m4L7XvfJACE/s320/Happy%2BGirl%2B3.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600116380921257074" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Addi told me today that she wishes she were zero again and could play in the jumperoo too. Poor little girl just has to watch the fun from the sidelines. Though she does get pretty jumpy when I tickle her!<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">☺</span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02346651716896031000noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6956767605036595253.post-60499704635171911962011-04-24T06:00:00.000-07:002011-04-24T06:00:06.471-07:00His Sacred Name<div style="text-align: center;"><iframe title="YouTube video player" width="640" height="390" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/oXrOG02NMB0" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""></iframe></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">"In our hour of deepest sorrow, we can recieve profound peace from the words of the angel that first Easter morning: 'He is not here; for He is risen.'"</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">"As one of His special witnesses on earth today, this glorious Easter Sunday, I declare that this is true, in His sacred name - even the name of Jesus Christ, our Savior - amen." </div><div style="text-align: center;">-President Thomas S. Monson</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02346651716896031000noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6956767605036595253.post-30940922216431437052011-04-22T23:21:00.000-07:002011-04-22T23:24:44.382-07:00Sad Story Of The Easter Egg<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1OeF3WG0exU/TbJsVW3TBGI/AAAAAAAACRg/JjtzFUM3vYU/s1600/Egg%2B1.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1OeF3WG0exU/TbJsVW3TBGI/AAAAAAAACRg/JjtzFUM3vYU/s320/Egg%2B1.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598656400945513570" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Addison came home from school yesterday with an egg that she dyed at school with her name and stickers on it. She just thought this egg was the neatest thing ever. She even named her it "<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Eggbert</span>". She carried <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Eggbert</span> with her all afternoon long. She did not want to put her egg in the fridge. I warned her that if she didn't put her <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Eggbert</span> in the fridge at bedtime, it was going to get very stinky. We finally found a special spot in the fridge to put her egg. (I am not convinced that she didn't get up and check on <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Eggbert</span> during the night!) This morning, first thing she did was go to the fridge and make sure the her egg was still okay. </div><div style="text-align: center;">While I was in my bedroom folding laundry and feeding Paige (multi-tasking at it's best!), Addison came running in with giant alligator tears. After I finally got her to calm down just a little bit did I realize that <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Eggbert</span> had been cracked. Oh the trauma and drama! </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AJ62y0la_C0/TbJsVBaUJBI/AAAAAAAACRY/i8G2epOLfCM/s1600/Egg%2B2.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AJ62y0la_C0/TbJsVBaUJBI/AAAAAAAACRY/i8G2epOLfCM/s320/Egg%2B2.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598656395186807826" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">After a little bit, Addison was completely over <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">Eggbert</span>. She thought it was more fun to continue squishing the egg than crying over the egg. Though she was surprised to find that inside the egg it was white and not yellow. She thought eggs come out of the shells yellow. (We must eat a lot of scrambled eggs at our house for her to think that!) We had to tear the whole egg apart so that Addison could find the yellow yolk. </div><div><div style="text-align: center;">For those of you who know me, it took everything I had inside of me to not make her throw that egg away instead of making a mess. I had to keep telling myself "it's just a floor, it's just a floor." </div><div style="text-align: center;">I love how my 3 year <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">olds</span> mind works. She holds simple little treasure in high esteem. I need to be more like that. I think I learn much more from Addison than she does from me! I just love her and her little inquisitive brain to pieces!!!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">*If this post doesn't make any sense, it is because I am typing it up at quarter after midnight. My brain doesn't work well after 9 o'clock!</span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02346651716896031000noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6956767605036595253.post-38312948344814757882011-04-14T07:14:00.000-07:002011-04-14T07:36:27.758-07:007 Months<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;">7 MONTHS!!! 7 MONTHS!!! 7 MONTHS!!!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">We have had this tiny bundle of pure joy for more than half a year! Holy <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">kamoly</span> time really does fly!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">At 7 months, this little one has already cut her first tooth and is on the verge of a 2<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">nd</span> popping through. She really likes to squawk! <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">(I thought they didn't start the pterodactyl scream until at least 12 months?!?!)</span> One of these days we will get her to sit up on her own. Right now, we have to sit with her and she will lean into your hand or whatever it holding her up. Paige is a really relaxed, chill baby. She is still a great sleeper and likes to be on a schedule. In the last month, I have started bathing Paige with Addison and I believe that is both girls favorite time of day. Paige likes to eat <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">(understatement)</span>! We started foods with meat this last week and she is going to town on them. I really hope that she isn't as nearly a picky eater as her sister is. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-F4siSgRpD8g/TacCfYEQ-II/AAAAAAAACRI/KGvkcfb0K5w/s1600/9.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 234px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-F4siSgRpD8g/TacCfYEQ-II/AAAAAAAACRI/KGvkcfb0K5w/s320/9.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595443800090671234" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mQkkC8ybcTg/TacCXSPuu5I/AAAAAAAACRA/ALYK3H_j1-w/s1600/5.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 234px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mQkkC8ybcTg/TacCXSPuu5I/AAAAAAAACRA/ALYK3H_j1-w/s320/5.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595443661089192850" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HDprWFVF_y4/TacCXBdH_TI/AAAAAAAACQ4/sMdL4RFKaVc/s1600/1.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 234px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-HDprWFVF_y4/TacCXBdH_TI/AAAAAAAACQ4/sMdL4RFKaVc/s320/1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595443656581971250" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Addison still loves her little sister to death! She will call Paige her "sister <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">sist</span>". I laugh each and every time. It is almost like she knows that she is a cancerous growth that she won't be able to get rid of very easily! :) I love her saying it so much that I have caught myself calling Paige that a few times as well.</div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gU6G8u9MeQ8/TacCWjedcII/AAAAAAAACQw/2GFA_0g6x5M/s1600/7.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 234px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gU6G8u9MeQ8/TacCWjedcII/AAAAAAAACQw/2GFA_0g6x5M/s320/7.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595443648534507650" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Paige loves Addison as well...at least from a distance. </div><div><div style="text-align: center;">We have been trying to work on staying in our own "bubbles". Addi likes to get in Paige's face. She doesn't do it to be mean to her sister. She just truly loves Paige!</div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uQL9HCejt-k/TacCWePZNgI/AAAAAAAACQo/9DqgY5P30Ms/s1600/3.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 235px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-uQL9HCejt-k/TacCWePZNgI/AAAAAAAACQo/9DqgY5P30Ms/s320/3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595443647129138690" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CE48emTZRjg/TacCWKNpDeI/AAAAAAAACQg/XR3ldh-k0kI/s1600/2.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 234px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CE48emTZRjg/TacCWKNpDeI/AAAAAAAACQg/XR3ldh-k0kI/s320/2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595443641753079266" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Randy and I truly love Paige as well! </div></div><div style="text-align: center;">Next thing you know I am going to be planning her first birthday party and bawling my eyes out that my baby is no longer a baby! </div><div style="text-align: center;">I think I may stop feeding my kids, just so they won't continue to grow! :)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">Thanks Briar for the photos! They turned out great...as usual!</span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02346651716896031000noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6956767605036595253.post-34945116656159164122011-04-13T10:10:00.000-07:002011-04-13T10:10:00.858-07:00Beautiful Girl<div style="text-align: center;">This is my attempt at a photo shoot. </div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZPgV4izEvnc/TaKNrj1npqI/AAAAAAAACP4/GldiYDQxdpM/s1600/DSCN1143.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZPgV4izEvnc/TaKNrj1npqI/AAAAAAAACP4/GldiYDQxdpM/s320/DSCN1143.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594189466641606306" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsT37WKXGII/TaKNrVe1CVI/AAAAAAAACPw/b8boQHbTO1M/s1600/DSCN1146.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsT37WKXGII/TaKNrVe1CVI/AAAAAAAACPw/b8boQHbTO1M/s320/DSCN1146.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594189462787918162" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Addison said this face looked "too mad". She wanted a do-over.</div><div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2UoBYSLBlxs/TaKNrDNZ3dI/AAAAAAAACPo/PpiVNeB48bU/s1600/DSCN1147.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2UoBYSLBlxs/TaKNrDNZ3dI/AAAAAAAACPo/PpiVNeB48bU/s320/DSCN1147.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594189457882996178" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">This is her do-over</div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-V6EKlG8I3FY/TaKNqzkQYQI/AAAAAAAACPg/aAs7r1tyC3U/s1600/DSCN1148.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-V6EKlG8I3FY/TaKNqzkQYQI/AAAAAAAACPg/aAs7r1tyC3U/s320/DSCN1148.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594189453683876098" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Do-over or mad face, I think she is perfect!</div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02346651716896031000noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6956767605036595253.post-3959738960263203012011-04-12T14:03:00.000-07:002011-04-12T14:06:50.526-07:001st Haircut<div style="text-align: center;">I love, love, love Addison's hair. I think she has possibly the most gorgeous hair I have ever seen. But she also has those crazy snarly Carly's that come and visit the ends of her hair.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">So, the time had come for mom to let her little girl get her hair cut. Surprisingly, Addison was quite okay with her hair getting cut. Her Aunt Nancy did a wonderful job both cutting her hair and making Addison (and her mom) feel at ease. I thought Addi would fight, cry and just make the whole experience miserable but she didn't. She sat there like a big girl and only asked Aunt Nancy a million times if she was almost done! :) I however, did cry. Just a little. My little girl is getting so grown up. It makes me tear up now just thinking about it. I am okay with my kids growing up, I just wish they wouldn't do it so darn fast!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SHV1gaXrJfY/TaPiUje7vDI/AAAAAAAACQY/x5IWi9y9Dxw/s1600/Before.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-SHV1gaXrJfY/TaPiUje7vDI/AAAAAAAACQY/x5IWi9y9Dxw/s320/Before.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594564004874533938" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vaFMv3BwxBQ/TaPiUJqt85I/AAAAAAAACQQ/tx3RVxMXzdc/s1600/DSCN1152.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-vaFMv3BwxBQ/TaPiUJqt85I/AAAAAAAACQQ/tx3RVxMXzdc/s320/DSCN1152.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594563997944640402" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xPMX9CPcROk/TaPiT39yG5I/AAAAAAAACQI/p1gBZXOURbQ/s1600/DSCN1154.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xPMX9CPcROk/TaPiT39yG5I/AAAAAAAACQI/p1gBZXOURbQ/s320/DSCN1154.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594563993192766354" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XAbN9N6M3wI/TaPiTSc4xwI/AAAAAAAACQA/ieYAHXu-wJc/s1600/After.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 266px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XAbN9N6M3wI/TaPiTSc4xwI/AAAAAAAACQA/ieYAHXu-wJc/s320/After.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594563983122679554" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02346651716896031000noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6956767605036595253.post-15183420801595608422011-04-12T09:58:00.000-07:002011-04-12T09:58:00.313-07:00Watergate Revisited<div style="text-align: center;">I have the pleasure of taking my kids to work with me (when I go, hehe). Sometimes, Addison can entertain herself and other times, we (Papa or Grandma or myself) have to find things to keep her entertained. This day was particularly hard for me. I had a serious headache and didn't really want to do anything other than lay my head down. Addison was all up in everybody's business. So to try and keep her busy (and not yell at her), I gave her my shredding to do. She did such a good job, that I thought she might have read up on <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Watergate">Watergate</a> to learn exactly how to shred documents properly.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lx4yJYyKHXY/TaKKxl98jtI/AAAAAAAACPY/UIWn3TaIv0g/s1600/DSCN1140.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lx4yJYyKHXY/TaKKxl98jtI/AAAAAAAACPY/UIWn3TaIv0g/s320/DSCN1140.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594186271757733586" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MXZbBNLw93Q/TaKKxagt63I/AAAAAAAACPQ/kOEIUyf35pE/s1600/DSCN1139.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-MXZbBNLw93Q/TaKKxagt63I/AAAAAAAACPQ/kOEIUyf35pE/s320/DSCN1139.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594186268682349426" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vL7hG_TAKkw/TaKKxFLfDBI/AAAAAAAACPI/BSaXJnyufr4/s1600/DSCN1136.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vL7hG_TAKkw/TaKKxFLfDBI/AAAAAAAACPI/BSaXJnyufr4/s320/DSCN1136.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594186262956149778" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02346651716896031000noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6956767605036595253.post-51842781118826659882011-04-11T09:45:00.000-07:002011-04-11T11:41:18.089-07:00Snotty Little Girl<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">(This is not a post I would normally do, but I am trying to document everything for the girls as a sort of journal. If you have a slight stomach, this is probably not the post you want to read/look at.)</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">This little one has been so congested lately. She has woken up in the mornings with a face that only a mother could love.</div><div style="text-align: center;">The other morning, she literally woke up with a bugger <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">uni brow</span>. I didn't think to take a picture of it until I was half way done washing it off her face. This morning, was not as bad as it has been, but I sure do feel bad for the girl! </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:x-small;">(She is going to hate me in about 13-14 years for these photos. Yay blackmail!)</span></div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fPJhsmxgpMc/TaKHmabEjbI/AAAAAAAACPA/t8zcoQz_rwg/s1600/DSCN1131.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fPJhsmxgpMc/TaKHmabEjbI/AAAAAAAACPA/t8zcoQz_rwg/s320/DSCN1131.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594182781145222578" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zMQmRNvvBas/TaKHmCzbrJI/AAAAAAAACO4/QYMLt-nVnUM/s1600/DSCN1130.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zMQmRNvvBas/TaKHmCzbrJI/AAAAAAAACO4/QYMLt-nVnUM/s320/DSCN1130.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594182774804950162" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">Paige has a tooth popping through. (I didn't even know she was cutting a tooth) </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;">That might explain some of the congestion and snottiness.</span></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02346651716896031000noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6956767605036595253.post-7330741424513618162011-04-08T09:12:00.000-07:002011-04-08T17:14:40.786-07:00Roll Over<div style="text-align: center;">All I had to do apparently was blog about her lack of rolling over. The very next day, Paige decided to show us that she really can roll over both ways, but that she just hasn't wanted to. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I have to admit that it kind of makes me sad that Randy gets the kids to hit all of their milestones. I am here with them all day, every day. But they always seem to do them for their daddy. Anyway, I am still proud of the young one and her latest accomplishment. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">This is how she looked at me while I was trying to shoot video of her rolling over in both directions. I love the hand under the chin. Looks like she is posing for her <span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">latest</span> photo shoot.</div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_GjLfCeVWmU/TZ3iqYwK4mI/AAAAAAAACOw/jaWe5DewK8c/s1600/Roll%2BOver.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-_GjLfCeVWmU/TZ3iqYwK4mI/AAAAAAAACOw/jaWe5DewK8c/s320/Roll%2BOver.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5592875530090898018" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-92IFGPkgJgk/TZ3iqJCF8DI/AAAAAAAACOo/_WpAidSHKHk/s1600/Roll%2BOver%2B2.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-92IFGPkgJgk/TZ3iqJCF8DI/AAAAAAAACOo/_WpAidSHKHk/s320/Roll%2BOver%2B2.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5592875525871104050" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">It took 10 minutes of filming for me to finally get Paige rolling over both ways. </div><div style="text-align: center;">(But don't worry, I finally figured out how to edit videos, so you only have to watch about 45 seconds.) </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;">Enjoy! </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><iframe src="http://player.vimeo.com/video/22083964?title=0&byline=0&portrait=0" width="400" height="300" frameborder="0"></iframe></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02346651716896031000noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6956767605036595253.post-35512376794006931462011-04-06T12:24:00.000-07:002011-04-06T12:46:29.438-07:00Chef Addi<div style="text-align: center;">Addi was picked by her teachers to be Chef of the Day at school. </div><div style="text-align: center;">This little girl was BEYOND excited! She has wanted to be Chef of the Day all school year long.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Her teachers made her this cute little chefs hat that she was able to wear.</div><div><br /></div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-W_grWTCCNUQ/TZzAcTByh6I/AAAAAAAACOQ/YlFoTq7lbkg/s1600/Chef%2BAddi.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-W_grWTCCNUQ/TZzAcTByh6I/AAAAAAAACOQ/YlFoTq7lbkg/s320/Chef%2BAddi.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5592556429663963042" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">(She was not thrilled that her mom was taking her picture. Can you tell?)</span></div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6kkEJT8rzLs/TZzAb7tCJ4I/AAAAAAAACOI/w2y1Be7DQGQ/s1600/Chef%2BAddi%2B3.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6kkEJT8rzLs/TZzAb7tCJ4I/AAAAAAAACOI/w2y1Be7DQGQ/s320/Chef%2BAddi%2B3.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5592556423402891138" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Addi even got to pick what she wanted to take to school for snacktime. She really wanted to make her favorite cookies, Pumpkin Chocolate Chip (thanks Aunt Dee), but the school does not allow homemade food to be brought in. So, Addison decided she wanted Pretzels and Swedish Fish. (So much for healthy, right?)</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pMVF8hyUGVM/TZy_s0rBheI/AAAAAAAACNw/rsCEUer-u4o/s1600/Pretzels.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 150px; height: 150px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pMVF8hyUGVM/TZy_s0rBheI/AAAAAAAACNw/rsCEUer-u4o/s200/Pretzels.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5592555614061561314" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pMVF8hyUGVM/TZy_s0rBheI/AAAAAAAACNw/rsCEUer-u4o/s1600/Pretzels.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AOQXnM4nNsw/TZy_suZ0N4I/AAAAAAAACNo/Mo974ZysoH8/s1600/Swedish%2BFish.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AOQXnM4nNsw/TZy_suZ0N4I/AAAAAAAACNo/Mo974ZysoH8/s200/Swedish%2BFish.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5592555612378773378" /></a></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Who wouldn't want this cute little girl to be their chef? I know I love it when she helps me in the kitchen! :)</div><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Qrc04aVpVbk/TZy_mG8jW4I/AAAAAAAACNg/oBTjysdEgu0/s1600/Chef%2BAddi%2B2.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Qrc04aVpVbk/TZy_mG8jW4I/AAAAAAAACNg/oBTjysdEgu0/s320/Chef%2BAddi%2B2.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5592555498707835778" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02346651716896031000noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6956767605036595253.post-72159862740692191522011-04-04T21:29:00.000-07:002011-04-04T21:42:04.382-07:00As Promised...<div style="text-align: center;">...here are the photos of Addison before our little emergency room excursion. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;"><a href="http://randyandjenmorris.blogspot.com/2011/03/allergic-reaction-pt-2.html">(Click here for a refresher)</a></span> She was still so sweet and smiling even though she was visibly upset. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:small;">(can you see the tears in her sweet little eyes?)</span></div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VuwtBQjhSag/TZqauX61HdI/AAAAAAAACNY/1BLaHoHYiMM/s1600/IMG_2383.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VuwtBQjhSag/TZqauX61HdI/AAAAAAAACNY/1BLaHoHYiMM/s320/IMG_2383.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5591952008819318226" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZpEmYK6f9XU/TZqatzHrejI/AAAAAAAACNQ/jfCR6uTfyik/s1600/IMG_2382.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZpEmYK6f9XU/TZqatzHrejI/AAAAAAAACNQ/jfCR6uTfyik/s320/IMG_2382.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5591951998941100594" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">I love this little girl and I am SO glad that it wasn't worse than it was. I don't know what I would do without my sweet, kind, wonderful, amazing, beautiful little girl! </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">PS. These photos don't look nearly as bad as they did in person. I was trying really hard not to freak out or cry. I didn't want to make Addison more upset than she was.</div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02346651716896031000noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6956767605036595253.post-8430134569958734712011-04-01T20:27:00.000-07:002011-04-02T08:19:35.266-07:006 Months<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I can not believe that I have had this most precious little person for six months now. We all truly enjoy having her in our house. She is so full of big smiles and is usually a pretty happy camper.</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">At six months, Paige doesn't talk too much. She is beginning to coo a little bit, but is overall a </span><span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">relatively</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"> quiet baby. She doesn't sit up on her own yet and can only roll over from her stomach to back. She likes to sleep on her stomach and seems to only roll over in the middle of the night when no one is watching. I think she does this because she likes to make her Mama wake up and come in to turn her back over. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Paige is an AWESOME eater. Such a far cry from her sister. Paige will pretty much eat anything that I put in front of her. She had a hard time sleeping for awhile there after we started her on rice cereal, but have since switched her over to oatmeal and is back to being a fantastic sleeper. </span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">One of my most favorite times of day is when I get Paige out of bed. She can be lying in her crib, screaming and wailing, then I come in to get her and she lights up like a little Christmas tree. Love, love, love it! I also love bed time. That seems to be the only time that she will really let me snuggle with her anymore. In the six months that she has been with us, her dad has probably only put her to sleep twice. I won't let him! :)</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-u8aQwfuef-s/TZaXtJywsEI/AAAAAAAACNI/uIrXVDAvpMk/s1600/Paige%2B6%2BMonth%2BWeight.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 298px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-u8aQwfuef-s/TZaXtJywsEI/AAAAAAAACNI/uIrXVDAvpMk/s320/Paige%2B6%2BMonth%2BWeight.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590822789405782082" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Weight: 13 pounds 7 ounces = 10th percentile</span></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">Height: 25 1/2 inches = 25th percentile</span></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;"><br /></span></div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zpppFTsyNA4/TZaXs8MAwJI/AAAAAAAACNA/xM3nZnUELeQ/s1600/Paige%2B6%2BMonth%2BLength.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 294px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zpppFTsyNA4/TZaXs8MAwJI/AAAAAAAACNA/xM3nZnUELeQ/s320/Paige%2B6%2BMonth%2BLength.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590822785753596050" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">I truly enjoy having this beautiful, happy, amazing girl in my home! </span></span></div><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-etNSuj7uAx4/TZaXs9pjyQI/AAAAAAAACM4/ny7ntUfbpOo/s1600/2.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 234px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-etNSuj7uAx4/TZaXs9pjyQI/AAAAAAAACM4/ny7ntUfbpOo/s320/2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590822786145962242" /></a><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:medium;">On a side note, I was leaving the grocery store the other day and was sitting in my car, getting it started, when I saw a blind man holding what I assume to be his daughter. I suddenly burst into tears. It broke my heart that this man, whom I didn't know from Adam, would never be able to see how beautiful his child was. I have never been so grateful for my sight as I was then. I am truly thankful that I get to wake up everyday and see both my beautiful daughters smile at me! </span></span></div></div></div>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02346651716896031000noreply@blogger.com6