<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977</id><updated>2012-02-16T15:05:20.831-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Where The Girls Are</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>71</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-3597152796065241972</id><published>2010-07-27T14:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-27T14:36:54.848-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Screaming</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/TE9RXf_h1EI/AAAAAAAAAbQ/nZ1nl_As3Jo/s1600/220px-The_Scream.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 220px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 280px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498703134209463362" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/TE9RXf_h1EI/AAAAAAAAAbQ/nZ1nl_As3Jo/s320/220px-The_Scream.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a class="image" href="http://www.blogger.com/wiki/File:The_Scream.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a class="image" href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:The_Scream.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;At any time during the day in my house you may hear screaming. This is a high pitch scream, that I honestly didn't think a small child could make. The high pitch has even made my dog wince. And because of the frequency of the the scream my first reaction is not quick. In fact, today I stood in the middle of the room with my hands over my ears until I felt safe that the scream would not cause any permanent hearing damage before I asked what happened. I have had friends with me when a scream occurs... their face reddens and normally a reaction of this caliber, "Oh, MY! Is she OK? Is something broken? I thought you were headed to the hospital." "Nope" I say and saunter over to my child.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The vehicle of the scream would be Lily or Evie... thank goodness no Rose. (I should note that she is not innocent from the scream. Many times she is the cause for the scream.) &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;What causes the scream? I have decided to take note of some occurrence to shed a better light on this phenomenon.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;*Lily SCREAMS because Rose fell on her neck.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;*Evie SCREAMS because she doesn't want Lily to read her a book.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;*Evie SCREAMS because she wants chocolate milk.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;*Lily SCREAMS because Rose took the blanket.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;*Lily SCREAMS because she fell at the pool.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;*Lily SCREAMS because she cut her finger at the park.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;...the list really goes on and on, as does the SCREAM. The average time for a scream is 35 seconds. The average time to wipe the tears and go onto something new is 5 seconds.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-3597152796065241972?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/3597152796065241972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=3597152796065241972' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/3597152796065241972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/3597152796065241972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2010/07/screaming.html' title='Screaming'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/TE9RXf_h1EI/AAAAAAAAAbQ/nZ1nl_As3Jo/s72-c/220px-The_Scream.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-4094301287689665218</id><published>2010-07-25T14:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-27T14:09:42.715-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Swim Team 2010</title><content type='html'>1st picture is Lily doing the breast stroke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/TEyyaxZke7I/AAAAAAAAAbI/mYIwFxggFH4/s1600/IMG_6049.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 214px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497965418119461810" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/TEyyaxZke7I/AAAAAAAAAbI/mYIwFxggFH4/s320/IMG_6049.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2nd picture is Rose doing the butterfly for the IM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/TEyyaMbYlZI/AAAAAAAAAbA/ePf7zV1er2k/s1600/IMG_6044.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497965408194958738" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/TEyyaMbYlZI/AAAAAAAAAbA/ePf7zV1er2k/s320/IMG_6044.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;3rd picture is Lily...hmmm.... trying out a "new" stroke?&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/TEyyZUfHKbI/AAAAAAAAAa4/xMlmgCw1oxw/s1600/IMG_6057.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497965393178208690" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/TEyyZUfHKbI/AAAAAAAAAa4/xMlmgCw1oxw/s320/IMG_6057.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/TEyyY1G0sFI/AAAAAAAAAaw/fGBBumOU2ao/s1600/IMG_6052.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497965384754835538" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/TEyyY1G0sFI/AAAAAAAAAaw/fGBBumOU2ao/s320/IMG_6052.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; 4th is the girls starting a race together.  This only happened a few times!  Big smiles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/TEyyYOzpMGI/AAAAAAAAAao/ji5UxBd2Z58/s1600/IMG_6041.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 214px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497965374473842786" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/TEyyYOzpMGI/AAAAAAAAAao/ji5UxBd2Z58/s320/IMG_6041.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; 5th picture is the intensity of Rose that always cracks me up.  She is always the first ready, and will stay this way until everyone else is ready.  Notice the other swimmer, Corinna, as well as everyone else... they must not share the same intensity as Rose.  I think one time she stayed like this for three minutes.  Just making sure she was ready!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Alrighty... I'm back. Hopefully, with renewed vigor and eagerness to type I'll be able to chronicle our lives again for the blog world. I'm going to start with swim team...considering it takes up our month of June, I figured there would be no better place to start.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This year as always was incredible for our girls, even Evie learned the art of self preservation during the swim meets. For example, she found out how to drink Gatorade from a bottle, how to eat a bag of Cheetos, how to eat her first hot dog, how to shove sand down her pants, and generally be tossed from parent to parent as we cheered on the girls during the the four hour swim meets. I will say to my credit that during swim practices I was able to work with her on jumping into the water and using balance to float in her swimmy vest. I have some great video footage of her swimming that I will add to a later post. She's just as incredible as her big sisters.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lily at age five was incredible too! She could swim all four strokes in a race. Though the stroke judges were very kind in not DQing our little one. Her favorite was the butterfly, though it really didn't look much like the butterfly by the time she finished. She also is fearless... swimming against the 8 year olds and really not minding that she finished last. In fact, when she finished a race she normally was concerned with what she could eat next!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As for Rose at age 8 she was on top of her 8 and under age bracket. And to toot her horn she normally finished first or second! Her legs were so strong and her desire so great that a few times she willed herself to win. Her accomplishments this year were swimming the 100meter IM with the 10 year olds and winning the Butterfly in the Championships. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, as I've dribbled on about how proud I am the girls and how great they are... I know, I know. But, honestly I love our swim team. Our coach is patient and kind to all of the swimmers. Her heart really reaches so many children, mine included. We've been blessed to have her teach our children such a great skill. And I know I'm not raising Olympic swimmers, but for the month of June our family gets a little competitive and a lot of swimming!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-4094301287689665218?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/4094301287689665218/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=4094301287689665218' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/4094301287689665218'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/4094301287689665218'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2010/07/swim-team-2010.html' title='Swim Team 2010'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/TEyyaxZke7I/AAAAAAAAAbI/mYIwFxggFH4/s72-c/IMG_6049.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-5565684249481285432</id><published>2010-02-01T18:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-01T18:31:02.097-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Snow Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/S2eJ6L4aW3I/AAAAAAAAAag/jzVdrhjvJR4/s1600-h/IMG_5749.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 214px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433463108160609138" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/S2eJ6L4aW3I/AAAAAAAAAag/jzVdrhjvJR4/s320/IMG_5749.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Well, here we are in all of our Southern snow glory. As you can see by the pictures we honestly got some snow. Rose took the yard stick out and measured 3 inches in most parts of the yard. We even had a little snow drift of 9 inches. I know, I know pretty impressive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girls started the snow dance on Friday night...and even were playing on the back deck that night making snow balls and just enjoying the cold stuff. So, early Saturday morning we were &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;greeted&lt;/span&gt; with a beautiful blanket of snow. By 9:30 we were out the door, fully geared up, and with homemade pancakes in our bellies. This was &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Evie's&lt;/span&gt; first and only adventure outside. I didn't have my camera so true to third child form there were no pictures of her bundled up and face planting in the snow. Because of the last action her snow "playtime" was very short.&lt;br /&gt;But, Rose and Lily are the total troopers... out at 9:30, in for hot coco, out at 11:30 for serious sledding with Daddy, in for lunch, out at 3:00 for some poor sledding with Mommy, and finally back in at 6:00. They wanted to go back out around 9:00pm, but Jack put the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;cabash&lt;/span&gt; on that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/S2eJ5_yLk_I/AAAAAAAAAaY/Q0fg_i1cy2k/s1600-h/IMG_5754.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433463104913249266" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/S2eJ5_yLk_I/AAAAAAAAAaY/Q0fg_i1cy2k/s320/IMG_5754.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check out Jack helping out the mail carrier. Our road was a sheet of ice and with the stopping and starting on the hill we were so worried that the mail man motto would be put to shame. So, out comes Jack to save the day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This picture show how icy the roads were on Saturday. This was part of the 3:00- 5:00 sledding adventure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/S2eJ5ppp_wI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/mUj93JpON24/s1600-h/IMG_5756.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433463098971913986" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/S2eJ5ppp_wI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/mUj93JpON24/s320/IMG_5756.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course my children have to take sledding to a more extreme, dangerous level by standing on the sled. Believe it or not those little ones have an excellent center of balance!&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/S2eJ5GUdPHI/AAAAAAAAAaI/Kxl2917Q204/s1600-h/IMG_5765.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433463089487756402" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/S2eJ5GUdPHI/AAAAAAAAAaI/Kxl2917Q204/s320/IMG_5765.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And here are the snow bunnies themselves. As you can see they have no problem hamming it up for the camera. Lily and her friend Ada Grace loved, loved, loved eating the snow! Hysterical. What a fun weekend for the girls. They truly had such joy being children... and so didn't he parents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/S2eJ41urlfI/AAAAAAAAAaA/QsL0WXThT2k/s1600-h/IMG_5772.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433463085034345970" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/S2eJ41urlfI/AAAAAAAAAaA/QsL0WXThT2k/s320/IMG_5772.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-5565684249481285432?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/5565684249481285432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=5565684249481285432' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/5565684249481285432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/5565684249481285432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2010/02/snow-day.html' title='Snow Day'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/S2eJ6L4aW3I/AAAAAAAAAag/jzVdrhjvJR4/s72-c/IMG_5749.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-146476007430420874</id><published>2010-01-16T17:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-16T18:59:25.567-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Performances</title><content type='html'>Rose with her class at her Christmas performance...&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/S1Js6ymgd_I/AAAAAAAAAZ4/_k8-8Z7N6CE/s1600-h/IMG_5625.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427520258206365682" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/S1Js6ymgd_I/AAAAAAAAAZ4/_k8-8Z7N6CE/s320/IMG_5625.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/S1Js6rk0ILI/AAAAAAAAAZw/QMEEMo6U-7g/s1600-h/IMG_5624.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427520256320217266" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/S1Js6rk0ILI/AAAAAAAAAZw/QMEEMo6U-7g/s320/IMG_5624.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/S1Js6bsIhvI/AAAAAAAAAZo/hEQ-AUvQWTg/s1600-h/IMG_5615.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427520252055946994" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/S1Js6bsIhvI/AAAAAAAAAZo/hEQ-AUvQWTg/s320/IMG_5615.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Lily our little "angel" with Evie at her performance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/S1Js6LJVN6I/AAAAAAAAAZg/FVBKwPI7Vx4/s1600-h/IMG_5613.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427520247615010722" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/S1Js6LJVN6I/AAAAAAAAAZg/FVBKwPI7Vx4/s320/IMG_5613.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/S1Js5uKMaCI/AAAAAAAAAZY/GQzsA4biXs0/s1600-h/IMG_5604.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427520239833999394" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/S1Js5uKMaCI/AAAAAAAAAZY/GQzsA4biXs0/s320/IMG_5604.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-146476007430420874?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/146476007430420874/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=146476007430420874' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/146476007430420874'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/146476007430420874'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2010/01/christmas-performances.html' title='Christmas Performances'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/S1Js6ymgd_I/AAAAAAAAAZ4/_k8-8Z7N6CE/s72-c/IMG_5625.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-7471090353579165530</id><published>2010-01-16T17:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-16T17:43:01.144-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Better Late Than Never</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/S1JpuaoW6eI/AAAAAAAAAZQ/ddtbAooSZkE/s1600-h/IMG_5574.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427516747078363618" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/S1JpuaoW6eI/AAAAAAAAAZQ/ddtbAooSZkE/s320/IMG_5574.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; So.... Jack and I celebrated our numero 36 in December.  I am so lucky and blessed to have my husband to grow old with... and knowing that we do this together makes it just a little bit easier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In this first picture I'm sporting the beautiful birthday crown that Rose made Jack and I.  She was so sweet and wanted to decorate and play party games... we played pin the tale on the donkey!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the next picture the girls are decorating our cake... Evie tried this year, but honestly she was elbow deep in icing and it was just better if she licked a spoon!&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/S1Jpt5jndII/AAAAAAAAAZI/dAWkbr_0lK0/s1600-h/IMG_5583.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427516738200106114" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/S1Jpt5jndII/AAAAAAAAAZI/dAWkbr_0lK0/s320/IMG_5583.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/S1Jptg_vW7I/AAAAAAAAAZA/_EJqmUC7XiA/s1600-h/IMG_5590.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427516731607178162" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/S1Jptg_vW7I/AAAAAAAAAZA/_EJqmUC7XiA/s320/IMG_5590.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Rose and Lily provided entertainment after dinner by dancing to ballet music... they were so graceful.  And as you can see by Rose's face very focused.&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/S1JptfM_ZEI/AAAAAAAAAY4/wd0XT9URJN4/s1600-h/IMG_5594.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427516731125883970" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/S1JptfM_ZEI/AAAAAAAAAY4/wd0XT9URJN4/s320/IMG_5594.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And here is the birthday boy and girl getting sung to.  Jack looks none to thrilled by the whole shabang, but I think it was just a bad shot.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-7471090353579165530?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/7471090353579165530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=7471090353579165530' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/7471090353579165530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/7471090353579165530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2010/01/better-late-than-never.html' title='Better Late Than Never'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/S1JpuaoW6eI/AAAAAAAAAZQ/ddtbAooSZkE/s72-c/IMG_5574.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-3668022879101267837</id><published>2009-12-11T09:00:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-11T09:13:34.369-08:00</updated><title type='text'>From the Trenches of Mothering</title><content type='html'>First Wave of the Attack&lt;br /&gt;Target: Lily&lt;br /&gt;Location: Lily's Bedroom&lt;br /&gt;Time: 0900 hours&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday morning Lily comes running into my room. "Mommy there is a lizard in my drawer!!!!"  Obviously, I don't believe her.  "Lily go get dressed we are going to be late.  There could not be a lizard in your drawer."  Lily now starting to cry, "Mommy there really is a lizard in my shirt drawer."  I stop dressing and examine if she is telling the truth.  "Well is it alive?"  "Yes, Mommy!!!"  So, the next few minutes are filled with me getting the appropriate lizard catching gear (two cups) and trying to catch this lizard.  Which is successfully and safely done ...the lizard was quickly released outside. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Second Wave of the Attack&lt;br /&gt;Target: Diaper Genie&lt;br /&gt;Location: Evie's Bedroom&lt;br /&gt;Time: 1000&lt;br /&gt;Today while vacuuming Evie's room she decided to wage war on the diaper genie.  First she figured out how to open it.  (This is no small feat.  As many of you know who are familiar with  the older model of the Diaper Genie.)  Then she began filling it up.  With what you ask.... clean diapers of course.  Lots of clean diapers.  Then once she was done with the diapers she moved on to other things she could reach on the diaper table.  By the time she was done the genie was over flowing and I was done vacuuming... which allowed me to move on to cleaning up the diaper genie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More waves of the Attack on Mom to come.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-3668022879101267837?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/3668022879101267837/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=3668022879101267837' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/3668022879101267837'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/3668022879101267837'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2009/12/from-trenches-of-mothering.html' title='From the Trenches of Mothering'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-1757188227346607773</id><published>2009-11-11T08:19:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-11T09:01:06.908-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Blog Catch-Up</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/Svrtp7Qg2TI/AAAAAAAAAYw/-zs_f_xhy1U/s1600-h/IMG_5229.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402892007521704242" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/Svrtp7Qg2TI/AAAAAAAAAYw/-zs_f_xhy1U/s320/IMG_5229.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/Svrngg11Z-I/AAAAAAAAAYo/evr7bwvp_T8/s1600-h/IMG_5028.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402885248741894114" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/Svrngg11Z-I/AAAAAAAAAYo/evr7bwvp_T8/s320/IMG_5028.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;October has flown by and now I'm in the middle of November... so, before time totally escapes here's what we've been up to...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My brother came to visit...and Uncle Vern is always a hit with the girls. Rose and Lily's favorite past time with him was playing hair salon and putting bows and ribbons in his hair. I can't tell you what a great sport he was. We also got to go to the pumpkin patch. (Vern's first time ever.) And as you can see in this picture Evie has warmed up to him with no problem. Our littlest one is having the classic case of separation anxiety and whenever she goes to someone it really warms my heart. I would say though the highlight of Vern's visit was going to see &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Metallica&lt;/span&gt; in concert. What a BLAST and what a &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;coooool&lt;/span&gt; rocking band they were. I can't tell you what a unbelievable concert it was, but it was. Vern did some classic air guitar and I learned the classic hard rock concert fist pump!!! Sweet. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our next big event was Lily getting her training wheels taken off. As you can see in the picture she has mastered two wheels with ease. One day she just looked at me and said she was done with the training wheels and was ready to be a big girl. So we took them off and within a few minutes she was off. This step in childhood is one of my absolute favorites. The pride, joy, &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;exhilaration&lt;/span&gt; that is on your child's face is priceless. (And yes, it feels like yesterday that I was watching Rose do the same thing.) I will say though, that Lily has already had some daredevil bike riding disasters, but she always gets back on!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SvrngL0jfZI/AAAAAAAAAYY/pL2lsziUR28/s1600-h/IMG_5257.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402885243099381138" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SvrngL0jfZI/AAAAAAAAAYY/pL2lsziUR28/s320/IMG_5257.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course one of the best parts of the fall is the leaves. And this year they were in full color. We've had some phenomenal weather paired with kite flying, leaf jumping, swinging , and just all day playing outside. I know that NC has nothing on WV for fall fun, but this time of year is just the best!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/Svrnf19MzsI/AAAAAAAAAYQ/4PxAnn8ouh4/s1600-h/IMG_5336.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402885237230063298" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/Svrnf19MzsI/AAAAAAAAAYQ/4PxAnn8ouh4/s320/IMG_5336.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next, we had Mom and Carmen down for Halloween. (The weather was awful....) But, we still were able to carve pumpkins and enjoy time with them. Mom was the supreme candy giver on Halloween night...surprising us with a little Rag Doll costume when we returned from trick or treating. This year Rose and Lily decided that they should dress as Hannah Montana. Not the most creative costumes, but they loved it. This year has been about Hannah. Because it was so warm during trick or treating the girls both threw off their wigs and decided they were just rock stars. "Mommy this wig is way &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;tooo&lt;/span&gt; hot. I don't know how &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Miley&lt;/span&gt; does it?" As was told to me while a wig was being thrown at me in route to another house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SvrnfvpHPZI/AAAAAAAAAYI/yetl0A8d2Rs/s1600-h/IMG_5355.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 214px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402885235535199634" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SvrnfvpHPZI/AAAAAAAAAYI/yetl0A8d2Rs/s320/IMG_5355.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; And sweet, sweet Evie got to wear the Clown costume that I had made a few years before for Lily. Of course she had no idea what was going on... and you can see that hat was barely worn for the picture. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, that's about it for now. On to November!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-1757188227346607773?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/1757188227346607773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=1757188227346607773' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/1757188227346607773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/1757188227346607773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2009/11/blog-catch-up.html' title='Blog Catch-Up'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/Svrtp7Qg2TI/AAAAAAAAAYw/-zs_f_xhy1U/s72-c/IMG_5229.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-2131393517573192731</id><published>2009-10-20T07:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-20T08:01:28.406-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Rose at the Public Library</title><content type='html'>Most of you know that Rose loves to read. She definitely loves to read more than I did at her age. Some days she can sit for an hour and devour a book. Therefore, periodically we go to the library to fill-up on reading materials. Right now her favorite author is Daisy Meadows. I know not a Caldacott award winning author, but her fairy characters have captured sweet Rose's brain.&lt;br /&gt;Upon arriving at the library Rose takes a B-line to the Daisy Meadows' books... the lady has written about 40 books on various fairies, so there is always a book Rose hasn't read. But, on our most recent venture to the library Rose could not find a single book by this author. When she found this out Rose states rather loudly for the Library, "Oh, NO! There are none left? Mommy where did they go? I know this is the spot they should be!" The Librarian who is in earshot comments that quite a few little girls came in that day and had cleared them out. But Rose could check the cart of books needing reshelved for any.&lt;br /&gt;She takes a mad dash over to the cart and finds "The Sunflower Fairy"...and lets me know that she will continue looking while we go over to the picture book area for a while. After spending a few moments with Lily and Evie looking at their books Rose returns. "Mommy, the Librarian said that she could save Daisy Meadows books for me and let us know when someone returns them!"&lt;br /&gt;Now the fun begins. We all go back to the Librarian and she explains the book reservation policy.  I agree to let Rose get a few and she excitedly starts jumping up and down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She then looks very seriously at the Librarian and states, "Can I tell you something?"&lt;br /&gt;"Of course."&lt;br /&gt;"When I read the Daisy Meadows' books it's like I fall into the book and am really there with the characters."&lt;br /&gt;Now the Librarian's eyes get very big and a wide smile crosses her face, "That is WONDERFUL. How many books would you like to reserve?" OK Rose has totally won this lady over and she probably would have let us get all 40. Because for the next ten minutes she carefully helps Rose select the books she hasn't read... reading title after title from the computer's card catalogue.  I had to stop the reserving at 4 saying, "We can always come back."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a fun conversation to watch unfold, and as an X- English teacher my heart was proud.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-2131393517573192731?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/2131393517573192731/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=2131393517573192731' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/2131393517573192731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/2131393517573192731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2009/10/rose-at-public-library.html' title='Rose at the Public Library'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-2837531093000691831</id><published>2009-10-13T13:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-14T07:13:23.733-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tri It!</title><content type='html'>OK so here are two pictures from the triathlon!  Het, Becky, and I did it!  &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/StTfOBOTSDI/AAAAAAAAAYA/4W-WlOse-PE/s1600-h/IMG_4984.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392180085808908338" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/StTfOBOTSDI/AAAAAAAAAYA/4W-WlOse-PE/s320/IMG_4984.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; What a great experience and something that could be totally addictive.  Training for this was hard, but amazing... waking up at 6:40 to run is something that is pretty unheard of for me.  And getting to sneak away on Wednesday evenings with Heather to bike, run, or/and swim was really a treat... ya know girl time. &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/StTfN3_OkpI/AAAAAAAAAX4/yIWAytZfOTg/s1600-h/IMG_4988.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392180083329766034" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/StTfN3_OkpI/AAAAAAAAAX4/yIWAytZfOTg/s320/IMG_4988.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am so thankful and blessed to have two girlfriends that went along with my crazy idea 6   months ago to do this event.  It was a great journey to get myself in shape and to show my girls that working out can be such a rewarding and fun experience.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now the goal is to get through the holidays and continue staying in shape.  Another goal possibly?  Het's mentioned a 5k... a 10k??&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-2837531093000691831?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/2837531093000691831/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=2837531093000691831' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/2837531093000691831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/2837531093000691831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2009/10/tri-it.html' title='Tri It!'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/StTfOBOTSDI/AAAAAAAAAYA/4W-WlOse-PE/s72-c/IMG_4984.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-3785987426838414977</id><published>2009-10-12T17:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-12T18:06:45.155-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A conversation with Lily</title><content type='html'>When Lily is in the car we listen to music. More specifically we listen to the Hannah Montana Movie CD. (The one that I burned over a month ago because I thought it would be fun to listen to something other than Kid Bop 14... which we've listened to for almost a year now) So, on our way to ballet it was just Lily and I in the car and I wanted to use this time for a quality conversation..... Here is a glorious replay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mommy turn on the music."&lt;br /&gt;"Lily, I don't want to listen to Hannah Montana."&lt;br /&gt;"OK, Mommy can I please listen to Hannah Montana."&lt;br /&gt;"It's not the please. I just wanted to talk to you."&lt;br /&gt;"OK Mommy." Insert annoyed 5 year old voice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;....at this point I really didn't have a conversation to start, so I struggle....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Lily, why do we have trees?" Told you I was struggling.&lt;br /&gt;"So, when it rains we can stand under them so we won't get wet."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pause for a better question...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's a good point. What's your favorite flower?"&lt;br /&gt;"Lily"... ok really struggling at this point. I decide to redirect to something that I know she likes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So, what is it about Hannah Montana that you really like?"&lt;br /&gt;"Her songs."&lt;br /&gt;"Okay, but what about her songs do you like?"&lt;br /&gt;"I like that they rock!"&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, they do rock! But, what about the words do you like?" Total English teacher popping out.&lt;br /&gt;" I don't know. I like how they are fast."&lt;br /&gt;...... long pause........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mommy can we listen to Hannah Montana?? Now??"&lt;br /&gt;"Sure."&lt;br /&gt;Insert rad guitar and rocking drum beat........."And it's the best of both worlds."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-3785987426838414977?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/3785987426838414977/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=3785987426838414977' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/3785987426838414977'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/3785987426838414977'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2009/10/conversation-with-lily.html' title='A conversation with Lily'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-8800536850848954710</id><published>2009-10-02T09:47:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T08:03:27.552-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Baby Jack</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SsYvcipRIrI/AAAAAAAAAXw/vkPvByYDXC0/s1600-h/IMG_4970.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388046171578114738" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SsYvcipRIrI/AAAAAAAAAXw/vkPvByYDXC0/s320/IMG_4970.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Here's Baby Jack! He is such a sweet, beautiful and happy little boy. Born to a phenomenal mother and incredible father. We can't wait to watch you grow and be a part of your life!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SsYvcQ4CKCI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9J_0YG8Z2FI/s1600-h/IMG_4898.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388046166808209442" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SsYvcQ4CKCI/AAAAAAAAAXo/9J_0YG8Z2FI/s320/IMG_4898.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-8800536850848954710?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/8800536850848954710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=8800536850848954710' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/8800536850848954710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/8800536850848954710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2009/10/baby-jack.html' title='Baby Jack'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SsYvcipRIrI/AAAAAAAAAXw/vkPvByYDXC0/s72-c/IMG_4970.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-3787423036215071248</id><published>2009-10-02T09:00:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-10-02T09:46:59.912-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Evie's One!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SsYmDih1tkI/AAAAAAAAAXg/mUnCvaL8nG0/s1600-h/IMG_4918.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388035846445577794" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SsYmDih1tkI/AAAAAAAAAXg/mUnCvaL8nG0/s320/IMG_4918.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Our beautiful baby is one. I still shake my head in disbelief. What a fast and amazing year we have had with Evie in our lives. So, in honor of our little one I'm going to blog on a bunch of things that we love about Evie...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SsYmDPNKw_I/AAAAAAAAAXY/2rqOKmAC_x8/s1600-h/IMG_4925.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388035841258603506" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SsYmDPNKw_I/AAAAAAAAAXY/2rqOKmAC_x8/s320/IMG_4925.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I love that Evie.....&lt;br /&gt;...."smiles a lot" according to Lily.&lt;br /&gt;... tries to keep up with her older sisters.&lt;br /&gt;... doesn't let her big sisters push her around.&lt;br /&gt;... doesn't want to eat baby food, but table food.&lt;br /&gt;... goes to sleep when you sing, "You are my sunshine".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SsYmCxQ57TI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/ni2kX9JRkWY/s1600-h/IMG_4959.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388035833221213490" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SsYmCxQ57TI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/ni2kX9JRkWY/s320/IMG_4959.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... is into EVERYTHING! She is so busy.&lt;br /&gt;... loves to snuggle with me in the middle of the night.&lt;br /&gt;... thinks ice cream is divine!&lt;br /&gt;... fed herself applesauce last night with a spoon.&lt;br /&gt;... says, "Up Up Up" with her hands reaching towards me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SsYmCbTfJ8I/AAAAAAAAAXI/B4nj_YKzS2M/s1600-h/IMG_4944.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388035827326461890" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SsYmCbTfJ8I/AAAAAAAAAXI/B4nj_YKzS2M/s320/IMG_4944.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SsYmCHEguXI/AAAAAAAAAXA/gwsOzD1MY24/s1600-h/IMG_4956.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388035821894941042" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SsYmCHEguXI/AAAAAAAAAXA/gwsOzD1MY24/s320/IMG_4956.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; ... that she crawls up the stairs.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;...  that Evie has a cheesy smile when she's really happy.  (check out the last picture)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;... that she is our " Evie Do Do"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, as you can see we had a great 1st birthday in DC visiting Jack's sister and family.  Will have to post pictures of AMA's new baby!  The girls enjoyed the  beautiful day by playing outside and then going to the park.  We had a very nice and small birthday party after a scumptious dinner with AMA,  Grammie, Brian, Ryan, Aunt Mary Rose, Rose, Lily, Daddy, and Me!  Oh, what fun and joy this year has been.  We can't wait to see what else our littlest flower, Camellia gets into.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-3787423036215071248?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/3787423036215071248/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=3787423036215071248' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/3787423036215071248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/3787423036215071248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2009/10/evies-one.html' title='Evie&apos;s One!'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SsYmDih1tkI/AAAAAAAAAXg/mUnCvaL8nG0/s72-c/IMG_4918.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-8333390651468221980</id><published>2009-09-02T08:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-03T15:53:49.064-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lily's 5</title><content type='html'>And Lily is 5. My little blue-eyed stylish girl is 5. The little girl who wants to wear a dress everyday, have her nails painted, but still cuddle on my lap is 5.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/Sp6kMGHuIRI/AAAAAAAAAWo/zpSgc0zajlo/s1600-h/IMG_4162.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376915532835332370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/Sp6kMGHuIRI/AAAAAAAAAWo/zpSgc0zajlo/s320/IMG_4162.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Here is her birthday dinner. This year Lily asked for Mac and Cheese and watermelon. Jack insisted that we had some meat, so she said some cow would be fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/Sp6kLkSpQPI/AAAAAAAAAWg/cEsntwFdd94/s1600-h/IMG_4848.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376915523754344690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/Sp6kLkSpQPI/AAAAAAAAAWg/cEsntwFdd94/s320/IMG_4848.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Here she is with Ada Grace, her "barbie friend", getting one of the 8 barbies she had to have. The girl is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;nutso&lt;/span&gt; about Barbies... tattoo barbie, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Rapunzel&lt;/span&gt; barbie, three &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;musketeer&lt;/span&gt; barbie, Hannah Montana barbie, hair salon barbie, cherry red &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Ferrari&lt;/span&gt; barbie, the very first barbie, and cheerleader barbie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/Sp6kLHblcVI/AAAAAAAAAWY/RiDLpbMXNvg/s1600-h/IMG_4875.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376915516007215442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/Sp6kLHblcVI/AAAAAAAAAWY/RiDLpbMXNvg/s320/IMG_4875.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; And then on the other hand she is such a tomboy. Here she is with her pals at her birthday party at the Ranch. When we were on the wagon ride I asked her if she was having a great time. Her reply, "This is totally AWESOME!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/Sp6kKyI3j4I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/bby-27mBgD0/s1600-h/IMG_4863.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5376915510291566466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/Sp6kKyI3j4I/AAAAAAAAAWQ/bby-27mBgD0/s320/IMG_4863.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How AWESOME it is to have her in our lives. She has the brightest spirit and the most infectious laughter. (She thinks farts are &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;sooooo&lt;/span&gt; funny.) I pray that she continues to grow and be beautiful on the inside. Oh what fun this year will surely bring!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-8333390651468221980?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/8333390651468221980/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=8333390651468221980' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/8333390651468221980'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/8333390651468221980'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2009/09/lilys-5.html' title='Lily&apos;s 5'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/Sp6kMGHuIRI/AAAAAAAAAWo/zpSgc0zajlo/s72-c/IMG_4162.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-5442326927685018866</id><published>2009-08-29T12:35:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-29T12:52:35.305-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A week in the life of a toddler...</title><content type='html'>So here's a quick run down of Evie's activities this week...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*poured 34oz of coffee onto the kitchen floor (coffee and other potential hazards have been removed from bottom shelf of pantry.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*ate handful of dog's food (note that baby can now open &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Tupperware&lt;/span&gt;.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* tried to eat hand sanitizer (which has now been taken from the girls bathroom. Lily had used it and left it at baby's eye level.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* tried to eat diaper cream (note that baby can now open diaper cream tube.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* dug in plant and threw dirt on floor (I'm still staying strong on not moving house plants... working on "no no")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* tried to climb out of high chair (note high chair is 8 years old and no longer has belt to keep her in.... next will be booster seat that she can still be fastened into)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* took off the child proof &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;safety&lt;/span&gt; plug for the electrical outlet (this was accomplished by using teeth to pry it out of socket.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*ate Q-tips and toilet paper (drawer locks have been purchased.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;* and finally the ever popular putting hands in the toilet bowl!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow. What a stage we are at in little Evie's life. She is in constant motion and interested in EVERYTHING! I love her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;sooo&lt;/span&gt; much, but this one's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;keepin&lt;/span&gt;' me on my toes!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-5442326927685018866?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/5442326927685018866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=5442326927685018866' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/5442326927685018866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/5442326927685018866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2009/08/week-in-life-of-toddler.html' title='A week in the life of a toddler...'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-2101478455728528313</id><published>2009-08-18T06:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T05:39:37.853-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Training</title><content type='html'>This summer I've been waking before the girls and running. Main point: I hate to run. Loathe it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;in fact&lt;/span&gt;. I've played sports all my life, but have never gotten any joy from running. So, for me to wake and purposely put running shoes on is a major &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;accomplishment&lt;/span&gt;. You see all this running is for a mini-triathlon. A goal to get into shape post baby #3, and for the most part it has worked. I just want to finish this thing.&lt;br /&gt;Myself, along with my friends Heather and Becky S. will be attempting to complete the 250 meter swim, 9 mile bike ride, and 2 mile run. I know it totally sounds "do"able. But, I hate to run...never understood a runner and why they would intentionally kill their lungs. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;In fact&lt;/span&gt;, the idea of running a mile is drudgery. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;OK&lt;/span&gt; got my point. Right?&lt;br /&gt;So, this past Saturday I finally had a break through. I ran the 2 mile loop in my "hilly" neighborhood without stopping. (All runners my interject laughter at this point!) But, it was huge for me. The girl who hates to run finally got it. The fun in the run.... For the first time in my life I didn't suck wind and yes, got some enjoyment out of running. I don't think I will become a runner, but I'm starting to see the effect of some training. Maybe it's a little late in the training, but it happened.&lt;br /&gt;Now I need to get on a bike. Hey, it's only 4 weeks away!!!! Ugh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-2101478455728528313?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/2101478455728528313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=2101478455728528313' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/2101478455728528313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/2101478455728528313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2009/08/training.html' title='Training'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-8285220922562717003</id><published>2009-08-17T18:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-20T07:09:54.742-07:00</updated><title type='text'>One Last Hurrah!</title><content type='html'>Notice Uncle Jim and his "serious ladder golf face" . Not too bad for a man who conducted the science experiment of pulling a hamstring!!!! (Note to all 50 year old men should not do splits and skim board.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SooO59KCZrI/AAAAAAAAAV4/hNyGxmwq4IY/s1600-h/IMG_4816.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371121894424733362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SooO59KCZrI/AAAAAAAAAV4/hNyGxmwq4IY/s320/IMG_4816.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Evie with her usual face...&lt;br /&gt;eating her usual dose of sand. I'm not sure how much sand she consumed this summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SooO5Zh3wVI/AAAAAAAAAVw/zU6Zt905-JI/s1600-h/IMG_4820.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371121884861022546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SooO5Zh3wVI/AAAAAAAAAVw/zU6Zt905-JI/s320/IMG_4820.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Pap taking the girls out for a swim. Rose became very fearful of jelly fish this year. Finally the last hour she broke down and boggie boarded. She rocked it too!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SooO4tSqVrI/AAAAAAAAAVo/LUXTRUCA_Y4/s1600-h/IMG_4805.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371121872986068658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SooO4tSqVrI/AAAAAAAAAVo/LUXTRUCA_Y4/s320/IMG_4805.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year's group... there will be more next year! (click on this one to see it better)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SooO4OO64PI/AAAAAAAAAVg/bG2vbVrZqIU/s1600-h/IMG_4829.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5371121864648876274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SooO4OO64PI/AAAAAAAAAVg/bG2vbVrZqIU/s320/IMG_4829.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last week the girls and I had one last summer trip to the beach. This time we were lucky enough to go to Topsail, a favorite place of my mom, Aunts, and Uncles. We spent three rainy days at the beach, but still had a blast. Honestly, it rained each day we were there for at least 4 hours. Then luckily the sky would clear and we would be blessed with a few hours of beach time. Which in turn meant dinner was always later... but, when at the beach you take your beach time slow.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As always I enjoy being with my Aunts and Uncles they are funny, outspoken, and always real. Each year I know I will be exposed to CNN in the background, thus sometimes sparking a debate about a topic that I will be newly informed. (Yet the men in turn were all watching Ellen one morning. This one I still can't figure out. They said it was on for Rose and Lily.....hmmm) I'll also get to be part of boisterous laughter that could break out at any moment. They all are honestly some of the loudest laughers ever. I also know that some fierce games of ladder golf will be played... complete with boisterous laughter, mouth dropping expletives, and gregarious gestures. All of these things I LOVE. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The only picture I didn't get was Mom playing beer pong.... don't get to crazed the cups were filled with water.  It was just about the competition.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-8285220922562717003?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/8285220922562717003/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=8285220922562717003' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/8285220922562717003'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/8285220922562717003'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2009/08/one-last-hurrah.html' title='One Last Hurrah!'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SooO59KCZrI/AAAAAAAAAV4/hNyGxmwq4IY/s72-c/IMG_4816.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-5755640705836972526</id><published>2009-08-09T13:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T13:27:30.335-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The kids of the OIB</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/Sn8wj8l2bMI/AAAAAAAAAVY/hzk0Y_dyNvc/s1600-h/IMG_4714.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5368062674967358658" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/Sn8wj8l2bMI/AAAAAAAAAVY/hzk0Y_dyNvc/s400/IMG_4714.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just had to add this picture of the kids.  Notice Evie even made it into the shot.  Jack is holding her.  We didn't get Tripp, Tatum, or Ethan in this years shot.  Next year......&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-5755640705836972526?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/5755640705836972526/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=5755640705836972526' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/5755640705836972526'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/5755640705836972526'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2009/08/kids-of-oib.html' title='The kids of the OIB'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/Sn8wj8l2bMI/AAAAAAAAAVY/hzk0Y_dyNvc/s72-c/IMG_4714.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-2290019386346892792</id><published>2009-07-28T13:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-09T13:30:04.168-07:00</updated><title type='text'>233 in the OIB</title><content type='html'>233 in the OIB&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SnDHOkfN0yI/AAAAAAAAAVI/uxzBFqIVpGU/s1600-h/IMG_4704.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364006209324962594" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SnDHOkfN0yI/AAAAAAAAAVI/uxzBFqIVpGU/s320/IMG_4704.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rose ridin some waves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lily ridin with the girls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SnDHOIbXuuI/AAAAAAAAAVA/zQ-YpO8bzGU/s1600-h/IMG_4729.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364006201792641762" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SnDHOIbXuuI/AAAAAAAAAVA/zQ-YpO8bzGU/s320/IMG_4729.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SnDHN61bugI/AAAAAAAAAU4/JtnJUb4z960/s1600-h/IMG_4679.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364006198143859202" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SnDHN61bugI/AAAAAAAAAU4/JtnJUb4z960/s320/IMG_4679.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pool time after the beach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SnDHM_3U-kI/AAAAAAAAAUw/Vec5x-AI428/s1600-h/IMG_4647.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364006182314113602" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SnDHM_3U-kI/AAAAAAAAAUw/Vec5x-AI428/s320/IMG_4647.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dance party led by "crazy uncle patrick".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SnDHMUx2SBI/AAAAAAAAAUo/mD2LNnMVCoo/s1600-h/IMG_4590.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364006170748405778" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SnDHMUx2SBI/AAAAAAAAAUo/mD2LNnMVCoo/s320/IMG_4590.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This 4th, as with most 4th of Julys, we spent it with my husband's high school buddies and their families. A total of five families spent the week together... consisting of 6 men who have been friends since college, high school, and even younger, 4 babies, 9 children (ages 11 to 3), 4 nursing mothers, one pregnant mom, and a house that held 15 people.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hmm. You thinking how does that work? ...for the most part well. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Our food was planned flawlessly. Each family was responsible for cooking one evening meal during the week, we had a pizza night, and takeout night. The kids got along great... one mom at the beginning of the week announced that there would be no tattle telling, and that there were plently of other kids to play with if they wanted. This statement prooved to be effective. I can count on my right hand how many kiddy problems we had. So, our week was spent at the beach (even in the rain), at the "hot tubs", playing in the pool out back, going crabbing, and just hanging out with everyone. We even had an ER visit when Sonny Brown broke his collar bone catching a pass.  Who knew the sand would be so hard!  But, he was such a trooper and had a great time regardless.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; I must also mention that we did have story time one evening with Dogpound aka Mr. Rogers reading "Goodnight America". I was moved to tears. Literally.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As expected the boys acted like boys except for the sad and shocking fact that cannon ball alley never officially opened. They won't admit it, but I think they are getting old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-2290019386346892792?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/2290019386346892792/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=2290019386346892792' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/2290019386346892792'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/2290019386346892792'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2009/07/233-in-oib.html' title='233 in the OIB'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SnDHOkfN0yI/AAAAAAAAAVI/uxzBFqIVpGU/s72-c/IMG_4704.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-3230107735299874436</id><published>2009-07-12T19:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-15T06:13:11.849-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Charleston...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/Slzc6s_sJwI/AAAAAAAAATw/9l8xVJW-Px8/s1600-h/IMG_4518.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358400557732865794" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/Slzc6s_sJwI/AAAAAAAAATw/9l8xVJW-Px8/s320/IMG_4518.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/Slzc6KVnatI/AAAAAAAAATo/GEacff4xVQI/s1600-h/IMG_4542.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358400548429589202" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/Slzc6KVnatI/AAAAAAAAATo/GEacff4xVQI/s320/IMG_4542.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/Slzc4irPMhI/AAAAAAAAATg/sK2QMxhbRdQ/s1600-h/IMG_4509.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358400520602989074" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/Slzc4irPMhI/AAAAAAAAATg/sK2QMxhbRdQ/s320/IMG_4509.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/Slzc12Um1eI/AAAAAAAAATY/N7K5ugK9hR4/s1600-h/IMG_4516.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5358400474337170914" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/Slzc12Um1eI/AAAAAAAAATY/N7K5ugK9hR4/s320/IMG_4516.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;How many times have I wanted to jump in my pick-up "Joey" and drive? White knuckled wearing a cowboyhat listening to Willie...on the road again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;color:#006600;"&gt;On the road again -Just can't wait to get on the road again.The life I &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a class="kLink" oncontextmenu="return false;" id="KonaLink1" onmouseover="adlinkMouseOver(event,this,1);" style="POSITION: static; TEXT-DECORATION: underline! important" onclick="adlinkMouseClick(event,this,1);" onmouseout="adlinkMouseOut(event,this,1);" href="http://www.absolutelyrics.com/lyrics/view/willie_nelson/on_the_road_again/#" target="_top"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;color:#006600;"&gt;love&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;color:#006600;"&gt; is making music with my friends&lt;br /&gt;And I can't wait to get on the road again.On the road again &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:78%;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;font-size:78%;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:0;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;So, 10 years ago we were on the road...driving across this fabulous country of ours. We laughed so much and&lt;/span&gt; were&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Goin' places that I've never been.Seein' things that I may never see again&lt;br /&gt;And I can't wait to get on the road again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;And now a few weeks ago we were able to relive a little of our adventureous side and visit Charleston. It, without overstating this point to much, was wonderful. Jumping into "Big Bluey" heading down the highway and looking for some adventure was awesome. No corn nuts this time, but still excellent conversations about where we are in our lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;color:#006600;"&gt;On the road again -Like a &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a class="kLink" oncontextmenu="return false;" id="KonaLink2" onmouseover="adlinkMouseOver(event,this,2);" style="POSITION: static; TEXT-DECORATION: underline! important" onclick="adlinkMouseClick(event,this,2);" onmouseout="adlinkMouseOut(event,this,2);" href="http://www.absolutelyrics.com/lyrics/view/willie_nelson/on_the_road_again/#" target="_top"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;color:#006600;"&gt;band&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;color:#006600;"&gt; of gypsies we go down the highwayWe're the best of friends.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;color:#006600;"&gt;Insisting that the world keep turning our way&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#333333;"&gt;And knowing my sweet friend as long as I have I always think of this line a realize how truly blessed I've been having her in my life. Through all types of adventures...and stories that are never short.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And our way is on the road again.Just can't wait to get on the road again.The life I love is makin' music with my friends&lt;br /&gt;And I can't wait to get on the road again.On the road again&lt;br /&gt;Like a band of gypsies we go down the highwayWe're the best of friends&lt;br /&gt;Insisting that the world keep turning our way &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:78%;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#333333;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Stac, as always is full of life, and as always pushes me to see life differently. Stopping to talk to potters in the market, talking to farmers at the farmers market, and talking to a shop keeper at a children's store. (lots of talking as you can see) And honestly, just as I was about to give her my "good grief" look her conversation with the shop keeper landed us on the best adventure ever! One that involved dirt roads, spanish moss, and pristine beaches. And as always I'm amazed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;And our wayis on the road again.Just can't wait to get on the road again.The life I love is makin' music with my friends&lt;br /&gt;And I can't wait to get on the road again.And I can't wait to get on the road again.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;color:#333333;"&gt;We had a great time taking things One Piece at a Time...enjoying a 2 hour meal, taking in a pint at the Irish Pub, sweating to death camping, enjoying quiet beach time, and being life long friends. So, here's to many more adventures...that probably will involved wide eyed little girls watching their mommies kickin it up live one time for my homies....cha ching...schmriken la dochie. Hey, someones gotta teach them to Live Outloud! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-3230107735299874436?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/3230107735299874436/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=3230107735299874436' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/3230107735299874436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/3230107735299874436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2009/07/charleston.html' title='Charleston...'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/Slzc6s_sJwI/AAAAAAAAATw/9l8xVJW-Px8/s72-c/IMG_4518.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-1819002727046170685</id><published>2009-06-18T11:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-18T14:15:27.124-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lady Bug, Lady Bug Fly Away Home</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Here is the tap version of Lily's recital! There also is a cameo of Rose, Nathan, and Evie!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-c1de9de12da5f901" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v8.nonxt4.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dc1de9de12da5f901%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331721912%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D5D7A0797AD2761ACA0A7A71C9F038253815015B1.3B1BF9B0D77B39E295DD16202C7482A8C8FB3FFE%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dc1de9de12da5f901%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D6tcZbGAeJXH-PYDX8xqEWanw4o8&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v8.nonxt4.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dc1de9de12da5f901%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331721912%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D5D7A0797AD2761ACA0A7A71C9F038253815015B1.3B1BF9B0D77B39E295DD16202C7482A8C8FB3FFE%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dc1de9de12da5f901%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D6tcZbGAeJXH-PYDX8xqEWanw4o8&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-1819002727046170685?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=c1de9de12da5f901&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/1819002727046170685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=1819002727046170685' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/1819002727046170685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/1819002727046170685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2009/06/lady-bug-lady-bug-fly-away-home.html' title='Lady Bug, Lady Bug Fly Away Home'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-5409155852657076436</id><published>2009-06-16T12:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T13:32:02.636-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Twinkle Twinkle Little Star</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;object width="359" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-5424b3c222a49a29" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v9.nonxt4.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D5424b3c222a49a29%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331721912%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D136FC153034214DC8E28808FCBA0630B7532E35D.7DFF70D8D161FCF13B2017AFB6807C4D5ECE94E9%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D5424b3c222a49a29%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DPVGQpxuDyS7LofoN25YIz_1ATlk&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="359" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v9.nonxt4.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D5424b3c222a49a29%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1331721912%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D136FC153034214DC8E28808FCBA0630B7532E35D.7DFF70D8D161FCF13B2017AFB6807C4D5ECE94E9%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D5424b3c222a49a29%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DPVGQpxuDyS7LofoN25YIz_1ATlk&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;This took forever to download..... But, here's Lily in the ballet part of the recital&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-5409155852657076436?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/5409155852657076436/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=5409155852657076436' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/5409155852657076436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/5409155852657076436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2009/06/twinkle-twinkle-little-star.html' title='Twinkle Twinkle Little Star'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-3646773427154604319</id><published>2009-06-16T11:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T12:42:41.176-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lily's Ballet Performance</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SjfjG4Vq-6I/AAAAAAAAATQ/w52HR_Hysds/s1600-h/IMG_4418.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347992789867756450" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SjfjG4Vq-6I/AAAAAAAAATQ/w52HR_Hysds/s320/IMG_4418.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Here are a few pictures I snapped from Lily's ballet performance.  Parents can only take pictures during the rehearsal... which is really better.  There are way to many people and the recital is sooooooooooooooooo long.  The first picture is the class waiting not so patiently backstage.  The second picture is Lily and Chloe.  It was awesome having a special day for the girls to have together (especially during the early months of Evie  &amp;amp; Tripp when carpooling was essential).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SjfjGjRdgQI/AAAAAAAAATI/umH6mSGAss0/s1600-h/IMG_4434.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347992784212951298" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SjfjGjRdgQI/AAAAAAAAATI/umH6mSGAss0/s320/IMG_4434.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SjfjGJ8udtI/AAAAAAAAATA/_Q8WF9U0pNQ/s1600-h/IMG_4412.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347992777415096018" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SjfjGJ8udtI/AAAAAAAAATA/_Q8WF9U0pNQ/s320/IMG_4412.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; My goal is to post her performance on video...wish me luck!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-3646773427154604319?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/3646773427154604319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=3646773427154604319' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/3646773427154604319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/3646773427154604319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2009/06/lilys-ballet-performance.html' title='Lily&apos;s Ballet Performance'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SjfjG4Vq-6I/AAAAAAAAATQ/w52HR_Hysds/s72-c/IMG_4418.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-968207359415567191</id><published>2009-06-15T06:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T11:12:42.305-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Strawberry Picking 2009 Edition</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SjZKUVnaP3I/AAAAAAAAASw/nZHd2FB1Bd8/s1600-h/IMG_4370.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347543320809324402" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SjZKUVnaP3I/AAAAAAAAASw/nZHd2FB1Bd8/s320/IMG_4370.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; As most of you know the girls and I go strawberry &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;pickin&lt;/span&gt;' every year. Honestly, this is one of my favorite spring activities to do... especially since I get to reap the benefits of strawberry jam, strawberry smoothies, strawberry shortcake, strawberry cookies, and so on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SjZKULsqkXI/AAAAAAAAASo/K5irSCa1rV8/s1600-h/IMG_4383.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347543318147010930" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SjZKULsqkXI/AAAAAAAAASo/K5irSCa1rV8/s320/IMG_4383.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This was Evie's first year and somehow we managed. I had her baby &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;bjorned&lt;/span&gt;. She was a quick hand though, sometimes grabbing the strawberries from me before they made it into the basket. I would be lying if one didn't make it in her mouth. Joining us on our adventure were some of my favorite people, the Hoods. &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SjZKTvjHwhI/AAAAAAAAASg/WJ-LUzbw5HM/s1600-h/IMG_4350.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347543310590788114" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SjZKTvjHwhI/AAAAAAAAASg/WJ-LUzbw5HM/s320/IMG_4350.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Ava is now 2 and a half and totally enjoyed eating as many berries as she could. Brigg is 7 (he and Rose played soccer and went to preschool together) and enjoyed throwing the "rotten" ones. The picture above is a pretty good action shot of Ava spilling her basket and Evie getting ready to sneak one of Lily's strawberries. Don't forget to click on it to get the full detailed shot!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SjZKTXvVjfI/AAAAAAAAASY/aYbShJzlz7E/s1600-h/IMG_4345.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347543304199572978" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SjZKTXvVjfI/AAAAAAAAASY/aYbShJzlz7E/s320/IMG_4345.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;We were blessed with a warm sunny day that called for yummy ice cream from the farmer's market before we left. Good good times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-968207359415567191?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/968207359415567191/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=968207359415567191' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/968207359415567191'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/968207359415567191'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2009/06/strawberry-picking-2009-edition.html' title='Strawberry Picking 2009 Edition'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SjZKUVnaP3I/AAAAAAAAASw/nZHd2FB1Bd8/s72-c/IMG_4370.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-8729484175958585589</id><published>2009-05-19T08:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-19T09:01:55.043-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The ones that got away!!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/ShLWpWuljGI/AAAAAAAAARQ/mGfphxy51v4/s1600-h/Imported+Photos+00013.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337564514351418466" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/ShLWpWuljGI/AAAAAAAAARQ/mGfphxy51v4/s320/Imported+Photos+00013.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/ShLWootuQhI/AAAAAAAAARI/ft20OJfUkGs/s1600-h/Imported+Photos+00003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337564501999763986" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/ShLWootuQhI/AAAAAAAAARI/ft20OJfUkGs/s320/Imported+Photos+00003.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;OK here are some of the pics that didn't make the cut... The first one Lily is really workin' the camera.  And during this pose another photgrapher walked over and was trying to get the girls to say, "pickle".  Lily was game, but Rose kept looking at me and shaking her head.  She was honestly at a total loss on why they should be saying that.  She's getting to be a little to old for that stuff I guess.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/ShLWoUpmVVI/AAAAAAAAARA/qo1x1HQXWXA/s1600-h/Imported+Photos+00086.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337564496613758290" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/ShLWoUpmVVI/AAAAAAAAARA/qo1x1HQXWXA/s320/Imported+Photos+00086.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; These other pictures of Evie show that getting a picture of her not moving was a greater challenge than would have been thought.  And yes that's my arm.  She would not stay in the tub.  Shocker. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/ShLWob6xZEI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/gylRYQkOSiA/s1600-h/Imported+Photos+00075.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337564498564834370" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/ShLWob6xZEI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/gylRYQkOSiA/s320/Imported+Photos+00075.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/ShLWoGvqVLI/AAAAAAAAAQw/GrrFbfD5q4o/s1600-h/Imported+Photos+00072.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337564492881089714" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/ShLWoGvqVLI/AAAAAAAAAQw/GrrFbfD5q4o/s320/Imported+Photos+00072.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/ShLUgapdrsI/AAAAAAAAAQo/vrW_a-cYZ8Q/s1600-h/Imported+Photos+00056.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-8729484175958585589?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/8729484175958585589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=8729484175958585589' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/8729484175958585589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/8729484175958585589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2009/05/ones-that-got-away.html' title='The ones that got away!!!'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/ShLWpWuljGI/AAAAAAAAARQ/mGfphxy51v4/s72-c/Imported+Photos+00013.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-6446748480268996577</id><published>2009-05-19T08:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-19T11:19:39.927-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wanted to share some cute pics</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/ShLSqaLveOI/AAAAAAAAAQg/LHoEVwzEEzY/s1600-h/Imported+Photos+00027.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337560134412368098" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/ShLSqaLveOI/AAAAAAAAAQg/LHoEVwzEEzY/s320/Imported+Photos+00027.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I finally was able to get up enough gumption to get the girls in dresses and get pictures. I love how Portrait Innovations gives you all of your pictures on disc. Now I can share them in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;cyber&lt;/span&gt; space. Well, here are some of the cute cute ones. Evie did a great job. Rose and Lily survived the ordeal... I really don't know why photo places have all those crazy props. First, they never use them. And second, it just provides a series of me telling Rose and Lily not to touch them. Over. And Over. Again. Until Rose pleads so much that I agree for the photographer to put Evie in a tub with a rubber &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;duckie&lt;/span&gt;. I didn't purchase any. I was totally limiting my budget. But had to add it for posterity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/ShLST8QeLzI/AAAAAAAAAQY/pmDTyZgilDc/s1600-h/Imported+Photos+00062.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/ShLSThNe4DI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/lwPDTzdfRD4/s1600-h/Imported+Photos+00079.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337559741161726002" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/ShLSThNe4DI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/lwPDTzdfRD4/s320/Imported+Photos+00079.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/ShLRWmYdn3I/AAAAAAAAAP4/r5JezQzRl6A/s1600-h/Imported+Photos+00053.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337558694577938290" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/ShLRWmYdn3I/AAAAAAAAAP4/r5JezQzRl6A/s320/Imported+Photos+00053.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/ShLRWfQJJwI/AAAAAAAAAPw/Gq9sGZja8DQ/s1600-h/Imported+Photos+00008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5337558692663994114" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/ShLRWfQJJwI/AAAAAAAAAPw/Gq9sGZja8DQ/s320/Imported+Photos+00008.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-6446748480268996577?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/6446748480268996577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=6446748480268996577' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/6446748480268996577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/6446748480268996577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2009/05/wanted-to-share-some-cute-pics.html' title='Wanted to share some cute pics'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/ShLSqaLveOI/AAAAAAAAAQg/LHoEVwzEEzY/s72-c/Imported+Photos+00027.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-8727289487009652134</id><published>2009-05-06T14:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T11:19:42.818-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I Love My Hubby</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SgIAPB4zAGI/AAAAAAAAAPo/8IVFRlVHe08/s1600-h/IMG_4318.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332825166964785250" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SgIAPB4zAGI/AAAAAAAAAPo/8IVFRlVHe08/s320/IMG_4318.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; They look great don't they? I have planting beds for a little garden!  Something I have desperately wanted.  And this Mother's Day I was able to fill them up with yummy tomatoes, squash, peppers, and herbs.  But, let's rewind four weeks ago when I asked my husband if I could have a small garden down the fence line. He very quickly agreed and thus this simple project began.  I had visioned a simple framed garden with tilled soil; but my husband felt that raised planting beds would really be better.  I agree.  Totally.  But, I didn't want him to go through a hassle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SgH_pqxS7uI/AAAAAAAAAPY/qgm0vYg3mYs/s1600-h/IMG_4323.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332824525104148194" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SgH_pqxS7uI/AAAAAAAAAPY/qgm0vYg3mYs/s320/IMG_4323.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, he did some quick research on how to make a level bed on a hillside, went and purchased the lumber, and the digging began.  About an hour into the project he hits the underground irrigation system... hmmm.  I didn't overreact and he headed back to the store to get a repair kit.  And then the fun really began.  He tried his first idea.  It still leaked.  He went back to the store and tried his second idea.  It still leaked.  I think you are getting my drift.  Finally, two weeks later the leak was fixed and their was joy in our house once again.   But, then honestly the rest of the job went pretty smoothly.  Our next door neighbor walked over to the fence and even boasted to Jack about his work.  He asked Jack if he was a carpenter by trade.  (Perhaps a good fall back career considering the banking industry right now....)  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;These pictures I posted show him doing his final bit of work.  Of course he had to saw rebar in half to keep the lumber sturdy.  One thing that I have learned from Jack over the years is he never does a project half way.  He ALWAYS commits to do his best to each job he starts.  Many times he makes a mistake along the way, but he will take his time (and yes get extremely frustrated) until the mistake is fixed correctly.  He really does this with everything in life... whether it's a household fix it job, going to work, cooking a rack of ribs, buying a TV, rooting for the Steelers,  or relaxing with a margarita.  You'll be he does nothing half-ass.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And so that is one of the many reasons I love love my hubby!  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-8727289487009652134?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/8727289487009652134/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=8727289487009652134' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/8727289487009652134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/8727289487009652134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2009/05/i-love-my-hubby.html' title='I Love My Hubby'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SgIAPB4zAGI/AAAAAAAAAPo/8IVFRlVHe08/s72-c/IMG_4318.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-7824211740573637099</id><published>2009-05-06T05:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-07T04:28:01.040-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Going Tropical</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SgH8OhXFBmI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/5w0-Zduns1c/s1600-h/IMG_4296.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332820760186914402" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SgH8OhXFBmI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/5w0-Zduns1c/s320/IMG_4296.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We brought coconuts home from Florida; the girls wanted to taste the milk inside. They waited two weeks not so patiently until Jack would crack one open.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SgH8OTv_MEI/AAAAAAAAAPI/FwoTEZc_WYE/s1600-h/IMG_4294.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332820756533293122" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SgH8OTv_MEI/AAAAAAAAAPI/FwoTEZc_WYE/s320/IMG_4294.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;As you can see by their reactions they were not instant lovers of the milk. In fact, well they hated it. "Mommy, it really is gross."&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SgH8OI1XutI/AAAAAAAAAPA/LQXZIAK1Jp0/s1600-h/IMG_4297.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332820753603082962" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SgH8OI1XutI/AAAAAAAAAPA/LQXZIAK1Jp0/s320/IMG_4297.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SgH8NzkrCXI/AAAAAAAAAO4/zjqCDBVxbzo/s1600-h/IMG_4295.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332820747895900530" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SgH8NzkrCXI/AAAAAAAAAO4/zjqCDBVxbzo/s320/IMG_4295.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SgH6rNxVRXI/AAAAAAAAAOw/tZHx3UChM1M/s1600-h/IMG_4295.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SgGB7724VNI/AAAAAAAAAOI/dRX5BQRvQP0/s1600-h/IMG_4290.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332686300463518930" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SgGB7724VNI/AAAAAAAAAOI/dRX5BQRvQP0/s320/IMG_4290.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;OK this last picture is how Jack first tried to crack the coconut.... I just saw so many potential bad things happening. But no band aids were needed! As you can see even the dog was interested in what was going on.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After this failure ... Jack got a drill and made the hole for the straw. I don't think this is how the islanders do it, but it was effective.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My only hope is that our family never gets stranded on a deserted island....we would have no drill and if by some miracle we could ever open a coconut I'm sure we would be told, "Mommy it is really gross,"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-7824211740573637099?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/7824211740573637099/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=7824211740573637099' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/7824211740573637099'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/7824211740573637099'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2009/05/going-tropical.html' title='Going Tropical'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SgH8OhXFBmI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/5w0-Zduns1c/s72-c/IMG_4296.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-4799597292094892287</id><published>2009-04-28T19:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-05T08:44:34.113-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Joni and Tim</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SgBYE321PBI/AAAAAAAAAOA/MNm1bNV7ShE/s1600-h/IMG_4274.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5332358799543319570" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SgBYE321PBI/AAAAAAAAAOA/MNm1bNV7ShE/s320/IMG_4274.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/Sfe4-n4yNqI/AAAAAAAAANw/ee9I8epd274/s1600-h/IMG_4272.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329932070014826146" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/Sfe4-n4yNqI/AAAAAAAAANw/ee9I8epd274/s320/IMG_4272.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I just have to share some pictures from our Spring Break get-a-way to see Tim and Joni. Obviously, we had a blast going to the beach, seeing the sea turtle rescue center, going to the Florida nature preserve, watching the local men fish off the pier, hanging out at the craft fair and feeding fish, swimming in the pool in the backyard, playing at three different parks, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;looking&lt;/span&gt; for stray alligators, watching the girls play with the neighbor kids, and getting lost on my run. (the last was not fun, just noteworthy) But, I have to blog about how energizing it is to be with the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Gooley's&lt;/span&gt;. We had such a blast being around such a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;positive&lt;/span&gt; and fun couple who have made their marriage work.... and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;raise&lt;/span&gt; 4 terrific men in the process. Watching the two of them be kind and giving to each other throughout the day and listening to their "banter" is something to smile at. They have a certain way of making you feel totally at home and part of them. If you check the pictures out you'll see that Tim would entertain the girls in the evening with some guitar &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;playin&lt;/span&gt;'. Rose, of course, was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;accompanying&lt;/span&gt; him on the bongos and bell. I wish I would have gotten a fun picture of Joni with the girls, but she honestly is a ball of energy and we were having so much fun I didn't stop long enough to take a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;picture&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I won't forget when I first met them about 10 years ago. We had a little cookout on their patio and talked into the evening. I knew exactly why Jack had brought me to FL to visit with them. This time we got to sit and have another cookout... a little more chaos with three children, but still enjoying their insights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;They are quickly approaching their next big &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;adventure&lt;/span&gt;: adopting three children from Ethiopia. After you finish reading this please say a prayer for them as they begin this new chapter in their lives. I know they will embrace and love these children like no other couple could... and I'm looking forward to learning more from them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/Sfe4-KVM9tI/AAAAAAAAANo/NxpW8FuJ7FE/s1600-h/IMG_4246.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329932062080956114" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/Sfe4-KVM9tI/AAAAAAAAANo/NxpW8FuJ7FE/s320/IMG_4246.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bongos were a huge hit with the girls. Lily wanted Evie to get in on the action... and Rose, well she was wide open!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-4799597292094892287?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/4799597292094892287/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=4799597292094892287' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/4799597292094892287'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/4799597292094892287'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2009/04/joni-and-tim.html' title='Joni and Tim'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SgBYE321PBI/AAAAAAAAAOA/MNm1bNV7ShE/s72-c/IMG_4274.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-776574231825825205</id><published>2009-04-28T09:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-28T09:38:57.079-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring at the Beach</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SfcvFj2furI/AAAAAAAAANg/OIpL6scwB-E/s1600-h/IMG_4236.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329780456585935538" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SfcvFj2furI/AAAAAAAAANg/OIpL6scwB-E/s320/IMG_4236.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Just wanted to share some beach pictures from Spring Break in Florida.  The weather was mild, but the water was chilly.  Rose, Lily, and Jack all got in the ocean and played around, but I stayed on the beach and took the pictures.  It was just a little too chilly for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SfcvFQra-3I/AAAAAAAAANY/vVWryZkyiuo/s1600-h/IMG_4239.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329780451439213426" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SfcvFQra-3I/AAAAAAAAANY/vVWryZkyiuo/s320/IMG_4239.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SfcvFKS2OaI/AAAAAAAAANQ/XJ0MNbuCZiA/s1600-h/IMG_4235.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329780449725528482" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SfcvFKS2OaI/AAAAAAAAANQ/XJ0MNbuCZiA/s320/IMG_4235.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is also Evie's first time at the beach and she did pretty well.  We only stayed for about 2 hours and she handled it o.k.  Jack dipped her once in the ocean.  I think this picture was taken &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;pre&lt;/span&gt;-dip.  Because she is not crying here.  (I'm always amazed at how blue the ocean is.)  The Carolina coast is the deep blue/green.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, check out my hunky husband... he's been working out.  uh huh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SfcvEgjLGGI/AAAAAAAAANI/R-yZ1UWhVOY/s1600-h/IMG_4225.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329780438519715938" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SfcvEgjLGGI/AAAAAAAAANI/R-yZ1UWhVOY/s320/IMG_4225.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The other picture of Evie just shows her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;fascination&lt;/span&gt; with the entire scene.... surf, sand, sun, and shells.  She did well sitting on the sand trying to eat it as well as putting the shells in her mouth.  I know this summer on our beach vacation she is going to be wide open.  Those with us will be hearing a lot of, "Don't eat the sand, Evie!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-776574231825825205?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/776574231825825205/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=776574231825825205' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/776574231825825205'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/776574231825825205'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2009/04/spring-at-beach.html' title='Spring at the Beach'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SfcvFj2furI/AAAAAAAAANg/OIpL6scwB-E/s72-c/IMG_4236.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-3069571603533950247</id><published>2009-04-28T09:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-28T09:24:03.576-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Easter!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/Sfcqx3yLORI/AAAAAAAAANA/WgVRcDTW1JY/s1600-h/IMG_4217.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329775720292628754" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/Sfcqx3yLORI/AAAAAAAAANA/WgVRcDTW1JY/s320/IMG_4217.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Oh, the joys of Easter. We started the morning off with our Easter egg hunt and Easter basket hunt. Jack's family always had the bunny hide the baskets. My family's bunny always hid the colored eggs. So, we've combined them and just have lots of hidden things in our house. All eggs were found, and as you can see by Lily there was much joy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;involved&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SfcqxrW92II/AAAAAAAAAM4/94nXY2Sh66c/s1600-h/IMG_4213.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329775716957280386" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SfcqxrW92II/AAAAAAAAAM4/94nXY2Sh66c/s320/IMG_4213.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SfcqxR2El2I/AAAAAAAAAMw/JzZ3RfrSI6U/s1600-h/IMG_4224.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329775710108424034" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SfcqxR2El2I/AAAAAAAAAMw/JzZ3RfrSI6U/s320/IMG_4224.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; After our hunting the girls got all gussied up and ready for church. We actually got ourselves to mass early and were able to have a seat for service. (no small feat in our family) Our service was beautiful. Afterwards we booked it to our neighbor's church service. They had invited us and Jack was determined to go! Again, another amazing service.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SfcqxLdit3I/AAAAAAAAAMo/_jhXLnD9Ho8/s1600-h/IMG_4219.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5329775708394927986" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SfcqxLdit3I/AAAAAAAAAMo/_jhXLnD9Ho8/s320/IMG_4219.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Afterwards we headed home to relax until, we had a yummy dinner of Lamb with all the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;fixins&lt;/span&gt;'... Rose is still convinced we ate beef. She said she wouldn't eat a little lamb. Oh, Rose if you only knew??&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What a beautiful day........&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-3069571603533950247?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/3069571603533950247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=3069571603533950247' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/3069571603533950247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/3069571603533950247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2009/04/easter.html' title='Easter!'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/Sfcqx3yLORI/AAAAAAAAANA/WgVRcDTW1JY/s72-c/IMG_4217.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-3906284530073014468</id><published>2009-04-25T14:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-25T14:49:40.865-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Parental Experiment #1</title><content type='html'>As all experiments go from what I remember from High School Science class... we should have a hypothesis (a problem and how to solve it), my method to reach solution, and results of said research. Here we go...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hypothesis:&lt;br /&gt;This study involves two &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;adolescent&lt;/span&gt; girls ages 4 and 7 that have unexplained problem of bathing. Problems that occur during bathing are, but not limited to: &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;inability&lt;/span&gt; to find soap in bath tub, unable to keep water in tub, confusion in washing hair, not sure of proper water temperature, unsure how too many toys got into bath tub, once soap found just plain unsure how to manipulate wash cloth with soap on body. Problems seem to arise after years of parental demonstrating and assisting said girls in proper bathing techniques. Solution to problem is help girls learn &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Independence&lt;/span&gt; in bathing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Method:&lt;br /&gt;After brief collaboration parents decide to do nothing when girls take bath last evening. (The nothing meaning... let the girls get in tub and see what happens.) Our hopeful response would be that the girls noting lack of parental structure would eventually decide to clean themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Result:&lt;br /&gt;After approximately ONE HOUR of being in the bath tub the paternal adult had had enough and informed the girls that it was time for bed. The response of 7 year old girl was, "But Daddy we haven't washed ourselves yet." Response of 4 year old girl was, "I don't know where the soap is!" Maternal parent would have liked to have seen how long girls would have stayed in tub. (2 hours possibly?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This hypothesis has totally failed.  Girls gained no &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Independence&lt;/span&gt; and just got to bed an hour later than usual.  (Parents did try the experiment not on a school night.)  Parents still in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;quandary&lt;/span&gt; about bathing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-3906284530073014468?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/3906284530073014468/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=3906284530073014468' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/3906284530073014468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/3906284530073014468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2009/04/parental-experiment-1.html' title='Parental Experiment #1'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-7810944475874742747</id><published>2009-03-22T10:36:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-23T06:45:07.007-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Daddy Daughter Dance</title><content type='html'>FYI If you click on the picture you can see it much larger.... kinda huge actually.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/ScZ5YEybsNI/AAAAAAAAAMg/N9p5iNBc4X4/s1600-h/IMG_4149.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316069864666542290" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/ScZ5YEybsNI/AAAAAAAAAMg/N9p5iNBc4X4/s320/IMG_4149.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/ScZ4ezyIQBI/AAAAAAAAAMY/CuqJ-tFCj4w/s1600-h/IMG_4149.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here's Jack and Rose before they left for the dance last night. According to them they had an awesome time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Here's the run down:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;* Rose started the Train for a big group of girls.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;* Jack and Rose's favorite dances were the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Macarena&lt;/span&gt; and that McDonald's commercial song that goes "Slide to the right, Slide to the left"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;* At one time during the dance Rose was on top of Jack's shoulders.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;* They served a pineapple sprite punch that Rose said was great. (She ate a few tomatoes, strawberries, cheese, and grapes.)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;* Rose ran around acting crazy with her pal &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Andreea&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;* Jack talked to a few other dad's, but just enjoyed watching Rose do her thing.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;* After the dance they went out for ice cream with Sophia and her Dad. Yes, Rose totally broke her L&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;enten&lt;/span&gt; "no sweets"promise, but Jack said that it was a special night. Hey, she's only 7.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-7810944475874742747?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/7810944475874742747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=7810944475874742747' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/7810944475874742747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/7810944475874742747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2009/03/daddy-daughter-dance.html' title='Daddy Daughter Dance'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/ScZ5YEybsNI/AAAAAAAAAMg/N9p5iNBc4X4/s72-c/IMG_4149.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-4652530251027545981</id><published>2009-03-22T10:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-22T10:36:34.857-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Question</title><content type='html'>Is it me or does Evie have the same expression on her face in all of her pictures???&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-4652530251027545981?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/4652530251027545981/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=4652530251027545981' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/4652530251027545981'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/4652530251027545981'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2009/03/question.html' title='Question'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-1241616610982369838</id><published>2009-03-22T10:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-22T10:34:28.948-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Quick St. Patty's Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/ScZ2Bj-E1GI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/-ITutbEOFj0/s1600-h/IMG_4144.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316066179365000290" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/ScZ2Bj-E1GI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/-ITutbEOFj0/s320/IMG_4144.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just wanted to share a quick St. Patrick's Day photo. Yesterday we marched in the Charlotte parade again. I, as usual, forgot the camera, so here is a post parade picture with us in our green.  It's really just an excuse to take a picture of Evie with deelipopers on her head.  Is that how you spell that word.  Ho humm.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;We had a good time.  Rose would say she had a great time!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-1241616610982369838?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/1241616610982369838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=1241616610982369838' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/1241616610982369838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/1241616610982369838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2009/03/quick-st-pattys-day.html' title='Quick St. Patty&apos;s Day'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/ScZ2Bj-E1GI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/-ITutbEOFj0/s72-c/IMG_4144.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-2818093697943082246</id><published>2009-03-22T10:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-22T10:26:04.853-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Evie and Lily</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/ScZzbsnVwPI/AAAAAAAAAMI/mFj7xP8Fk0o/s1600-h/IMG_4140.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316063329827274994" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/ScZzbsnVwPI/AAAAAAAAAMI/mFj7xP8Fk0o/s320/IMG_4140.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Lily and Evie hanging out in the Dora tent together. Lily was emphatic that Evie play with her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/ScZzbGTpNDI/AAAAAAAAAMA/bgTq3r4mgkc/s1600-h/IMG_4142.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316063319544116274" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/ScZzbGTpNDI/AAAAAAAAAMA/bgTq3r4mgkc/s320/IMG_4142.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/ScZzaTVNpaI/AAAAAAAAAL4/Jz3X-nfnu5M/s1600-h/IMG_4141.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316063305860490658" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/ScZzaTVNpaI/AAAAAAAAAL4/Jz3X-nfnu5M/s320/IMG_4141.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now that Evie is getting older it is fun to see how the girls are developing relationships with her. Lily does have more time with her because Rose is in school full time, so I get to write about them first.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Lily loves being the big sister SO much. Sometimes to much. Like yesterday when I was in the kitchen and Lily decides to get Evie out of the exersaucer by herself and bring Ev to me. Yeah. She waddled right up to me with Evie. So, I don't completely trust Lily to alone with the baby. But, for the most part she is so gentle and loving towards her. She'll get all the baby toys out and sit on the floor with Evie for 15 minutes and just play... laughing and smiling the entire time. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hope that this joy continues for Lily. I know when Evie is more vocal and able to move around better she will be doing a lot of disturbing her big sisters. I'll take the joy for now, because it can't last forever.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-2818093697943082246?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/2818093697943082246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=2818093697943082246' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/2818093697943082246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/2818093697943082246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2009/03/evie-and-lily.html' title='Evie and Lily'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/ScZzbsnVwPI/AAAAAAAAAMI/mFj7xP8Fk0o/s72-c/IMG_4140.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-1682903454828207488</id><published>2009-03-18T09:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-18T09:28:31.334-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Half a year with Evie</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/ScEfFwEnWEI/AAAAAAAAALw/G6TJdnXmOJc/s1600-h/IMG_4138.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314563218937960514" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 134px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/ScEfFwEnWEI/AAAAAAAAALw/G6TJdnXmOJc/s200/IMG_4138.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/ScEfFEz4r1I/AAAAAAAAALo/YlX8IN-fwy8/s1600-h/IMG_4127.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5314563207325069138" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 134px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/ScEfFEz4r1I/AAAAAAAAALo/YlX8IN-fwy8/s200/IMG_4127.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Evie is almost 6 months.... as promised here are some pictures that are current. We'll only 15 days old. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's really impossible for me to believe that Evie has been in our lives for half a year.  How have we grown with Evie?  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;* I've learned that the third child is so much easier.  Jack and I don't stress the way we did with Rose and Lily.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*I've relearned that a human really doesn't need to have 6 hours of sleep to function.  Just &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;increments&lt;/span&gt; of two hours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;* My house is never ever as clean as I would like it to be.  And I have not caught up on laundry yet!  Heck who has time?  And add the babies clothes to the mix; it honestly is just humorous.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;* Lily and Rose are still enamored with Evie.  I was told that her novelty would wear off... not here. Not yet.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;* It's amazing how much you can love another child.  I didn't think it was possible... but love grows.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;*  The same sleeping mistakes that I made with Rose and Lily are still the same mistakes that I make with Evie.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There are so many more, but it's time to make the beds.  Hey, it's only 1 o'clock!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;has&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-1682903454828207488?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/1682903454828207488/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=1682903454828207488' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/1682903454828207488'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/1682903454828207488'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2009/03/half-year-with-evie.html' title='Half a year with Evie'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/ScEfFwEnWEI/AAAAAAAAALw/G6TJdnXmOJc/s72-c/IMG_4138.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-3737050058573102050</id><published>2009-02-22T15:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-24T08:36:11.700-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunday at Church</title><content type='html'>We woke up late this Sunday... first off I want to add that every bone and especially my left knee are killing me. We went roller skating at the Concord rink yesterday and twice I was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;literally&lt;/span&gt; run over by some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;crazed&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;kamikaze&lt;/span&gt; kids. My body was contorted into gymnastic like positions as to not fall on my child that was skating beside me. But, I digress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We woke up late this Sunday and slowly started getting ready for church. And somehow managed to get there on time with all children's hair and teeth brushed. Victory! Rose and Lily as usual go to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;story time&lt;/span&gt;. Jack, Evie, and I find a pew on our regular right hand side. Within minutes Evie is grunting. Really grunting. Then smiling. Yep, you know what that means... Blow Out. The families beside know it was a blow out too. We all smile and Evie and I leave with stinky baby poop up to her neck. I make it to the restroom and pray that I have an extra outfit. (She's the third and should honestly be happy I have the diaper bag with me.) And now the process begins.... During this time Father &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Remo&lt;/span&gt; is giving his Homily... that I can hear via the speakers in the bathroom. At least I get to hear it. His Homilies are my favorite part of going to church. So, for the next 10 minutes I slowly change Evie and wash her off as I'm listening. The hidden good part; I got to listen in a quiet room and focus on his message. Victory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After leaving the bathroom we stayed in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Narthex&lt;/span&gt; to listen to rest of the message and waited for Rose and Lily to return from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;story time&lt;/span&gt; so I could help them to our seat. Once seated the last 20 minutes consisted of passing Evie back and forth between Jack and I, holding Lily as we watched Father prepare communion, pass Evie back and forth, help Rose find the right hymn number to sing, and pass Evie back and forth. As we were leaving a woman stopped to tell me that she enjoyed watching our family the last 20 minutes. She said our girls were very cute and well behaved and were impressed that Jack and I stayed calm through it all. ( proof of the power of the holy spirit... &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;I'm&lt;/span&gt; thinking.) And above all she was happy that that phase of her life was over. I smile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is bascially what our family looks like each Sunday since Evie has been alert during servie.  The good news is Evie has only three more weeks until she can go to the nursery during service. Then I know we won't look like the three ring circus. Victory.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-3737050058573102050?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/3737050058573102050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=3737050058573102050' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/3737050058573102050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/3737050058573102050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2009/02/sunday-at-church.html' title='Sunday at Church'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-4085845048925621798</id><published>2009-02-20T05:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T05:22:34.835-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Evie Update</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was Evie's 5 month birthday and I thought it would be fitting to blog about our little peanut. She has been such a happy baby and we are truly blessed to have her in our lives. It seems that our entire family has transitioned very well...even Sunday who is still awaiting our daily neighborhood walks. Which will happen as soon as the weather is cooperative for Evie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Evie has started eating solid foods, just the basics as of now. She seems to enjoy rice cereal and anything. As long as I blend it together she will eat carrots, green beans, sweet potatoes, and apples. She's not so sure about bananas and pears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is also a rolling girl. No longer will she lay on her back and play with the toys on her little "gym". Put her on the ground and she will begin rolling all over the place. I guess the next step is to put all the Barbies and Polly Pockets up in the girls room. There are so many small things that go with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;girly&lt;/span&gt; stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She has a beautiful personality. Though I know I'm biased. And smiles very easily at all of us. I guess being the third she will never be without some form of entertainment. Evie is also a big talker and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;tongue&lt;/span&gt; blower. (Is that even a phrase.... you know sticking your tongue out and blowing to make the fart sound.) Anyways. She loves it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On more thing last night she actually sat by herself for a few moments!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are a few recent pics of Evie....though they are even a month old!  I need to take more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SZ6rV0pLWlI/AAAAAAAAALg/lgP_IdqIwNM/s1600-h/IMG_4042.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304865802485979730" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 134px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SZ6rV0pLWlI/AAAAAAAAALg/lgP_IdqIwNM/s200/IMG_4042.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SZ6rVpfvpTI/AAAAAAAAALY/ohv9VzB6zXA/s1600-h/IMG_4053.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304865799493625138" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 134px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SZ6rVpfvpTI/AAAAAAAAALY/ohv9VzB6zXA/s200/IMG_4053.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-4085845048925621798?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/4085845048925621798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=4085845048925621798' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/4085845048925621798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/4085845048925621798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2009/02/evie-update.html' title='Evie Update'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SZ6rV0pLWlI/AAAAAAAAALg/lgP_IdqIwNM/s72-c/IMG_4042.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-7903586940654081935</id><published>2009-02-20T04:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T05:03:51.756-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Girlfriends</title><content type='html'>Yesterday Lily had found a flower ( a weed ) and began pulling it apart while saying "He loves me.  He loves me not."  Quite a big move for a four year old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I commented, "Lily that's silly.  What boy do you want to love you?"  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, mommy this is not for me.  It's for my friend Ada.  She loves Nathan and I just making sure he loves her back."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so the loyalty to her girlfriend begins.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-7903586940654081935?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/7903586940654081935/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=7903586940654081935' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/7903586940654081935'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/7903586940654081935'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2009/02/girlfriends.html' title='Girlfriends'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-6673442584248820391</id><published>2009-02-02T05:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-02T05:56:30.924-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Snow Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SYb7GOjjqBI/AAAAAAAAALQ/6kgP68bYKU8/s1600-h/IMG_4022.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298198096052987922" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 134px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SYb7GOjjqBI/AAAAAAAAALQ/6kgP68bYKU8/s200/IMG_4022.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;A few weeks ago the kids had a snow day from school. We had a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;whopping&lt;/span&gt; 1" of snow. Pretty funny considering our family in WV has had so much snow and life must go on there. So, the girls played in the snow for about an hour and then we invited friends over for the afternoon. My dad made Lily this balance beam for her Christmas present. Needless to say it has been a huge hit for the girls. All four girls ran upstairs and put on bathing suits so they could look like real gymnasts and then the performance began. Honestly, during these pictures it was beautiful chaos. We were &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;jamming&lt;/span&gt; out to some High School Musical as each girl took turns on the balance beam and dancing on the mat. (This would be the floor routine.) Evie sat on my lap and watched the girls go crazy. I know it will only be a few more months until she is mobile and enjoying herself too!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SYb4V5_OcMI/AAAAAAAAALI/6kDuANchwuI/s1600-h/IMG_4027.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298195066874917058" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 134px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SYb4V5_OcMI/AAAAAAAAALI/6kDuANchwuI/s200/IMG_4027.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SYb4Vdp4CDI/AAAAAAAAAK4/Efea7uQRVsY/s1600-h/IMG_4034.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298195059269175346" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 134px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SYb4Vdp4CDI/AAAAAAAAAK4/Efea7uQRVsY/s200/IMG_4034.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SYb4VNLirbI/AAAAAAAAAKw/L-eGwSWU3IY/s1600-h/IMG_4035.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298195054846979506" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 134px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SYb4VNLirbI/AAAAAAAAAKw/L-eGwSWU3IY/s200/IMG_4035.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-6673442584248820391?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/6673442584248820391/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=6673442584248820391' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/6673442584248820391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/6673442584248820391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2009/02/snow-day.html' title='Snow Day'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SYb7GOjjqBI/AAAAAAAAALQ/6kgP68bYKU8/s72-c/IMG_4022.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-4648426046965865223</id><published>2009-01-25T11:05:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-25T11:20:07.153-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Not There Yet</title><content type='html'>Yesterday the girls and I went to our neighborhood park after taking a little walk.  Let me set up the story.  For those of you who don't know, our park is small with 4 swings, a jungle gym, and a sand volleyball court.  Inevitably, while we are at the park the girls go and play in the sand.  Great fun.  It had also rained and the sand was nice and packed down you know, perfect for writing.  And much to my dismay some teenagers had &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;already&lt;/span&gt; written on this blank canvas.  Here's what it said.  Brandi sucks a$$ crack.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Hmm&lt;/span&gt;, I thought as we walked to the sand.... do I ignore or hurriedly rush over and erase it?  Yet, before I could make my decision Rose was already proudly reading.  (Something that my first grader is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;soooo&lt;/span&gt; willing to do now.)  Here's what she said... "Brandi sucks a two dollar crack? Mom, that is so weird.  Why would anyone suck on a dollar bill?"  My comment.... after a sigh of relief knowing that I would not have to explain &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;graffiti&lt;/span&gt; and more importantly what Brandi was sucking, "Who knows Rose? Who knows?" &lt;br /&gt;And I thank God that Rose's innocent brain is Not There Yet!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-4648426046965865223?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/4648426046965865223/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=4648426046965865223' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/4648426046965865223'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/4648426046965865223'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2009/01/not-there-yet.html' title='Not There Yet'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-7439430156765685171</id><published>2009-01-22T10:44:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T11:07:28.064-08:00</updated><title type='text'>We interupt the highlight reel.... for 15 Random Facts</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt; Heather tagged me to add 15 Random facts about myself....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Random thoughts....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I cried after watching the Brady Bunch Episode when Jan was upset about the middle child. I too am a middle child and had no idea of the emotional injuries until Jan informed me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. I was the 4&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; generation of teachers from my mother's side of the family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. In high school my girlfriends and I decided to egg another girls house. We wimped out and only threw 3 eggs at her mailbox.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. I have 14 house plants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. I held the record for most rebounds in one game at my high school.... 24&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. I want to make honey by having my own beehives. For some reason Jack is totally against it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. I used to dance around my house to the introduction to the LA Law theme song.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Potatoes are my favorite vegetable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. I have never had a broken bone. (knock on wood)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. I have fear of people touching my neck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. I always wear two rings: my wedding ring and an Irish Wedding band that I started wearing in College.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. I don't like when people wear &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;khaki&lt;/span&gt; pants and sneakers!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. I coached high school volleyball, basketball, and track.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. My family calls me "Jackson" or "Jack".... the later became a problem after meeting my husband.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. I love watermelon flavored Jolly Ranchers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-7439430156765685171?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/7439430156765685171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=7439430156765685171' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/7439430156765685171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/7439430156765685171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2009/01/we-interupt-highlight-reel-for-15.html' title='We interupt the highlight reel.... for 15 Random Facts'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-5925853515335420432</id><published>2009-01-17T09:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-22T10:44:40.796-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Highlight #4</title><content type='html'>We opened this discussion to the girls by asking them what were some of their favorite things about last year. And one thing they agreed upon (the agreeing stuff is getting harder and harder these days) is spending the summer at our community pool. If anyone is ever trying to get a hold of me during the months of June, July, or August they should first check at the pool. We are very blessed to have a community pool that is honestly right in our backyard. We grab our towels off the back deck and walk a little over a hundred yards and are greeted with the cool refreshing waters. Hey, with 90 degree heat the only way you can be outside is if you are in the water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, the girls are little fish. So much of my childhood summers revolves around swimming I am happy that my girls will be able to say the same. Rose has been on the swim team for the last two years and just loves to swim. Lily really became brave this year with her swimming. This summer she says she might try the swim team... well only if her friend Ada Grace joins she has informed me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So our summer pool trips are honestly a highlight to everyone in this family... it is such an inexpensive way to have quality family time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-5925853515335420432?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/5925853515335420432/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=5925853515335420432' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/5925853515335420432'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/5925853515335420432'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2009/01/highlight-4.html' title='Highlight #4'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-5973436949459122669</id><published>2009-01-13T09:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-17T09:34:07.393-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Highlights continued...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SWzPvM5CXaI/AAAAAAAAAKo/FfVIUuU5ERc/s1600-h/ImageDispCALVV8WY.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290832072074747298" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 134px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SWzPvM5CXaI/AAAAAAAAAKo/FfVIUuU5ERc/s200/ImageDispCALVV8WY.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Our Vacations with family....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rose posing by the sea oats.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SWzPV3a6R3I/AAAAAAAAAKY/uO1GWBxeM1c/s1600-h/ImageDispCAL6M3IZ.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290831636814514034" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 134px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SWzPV3a6R3I/AAAAAAAAAKY/uO1GWBxeM1c/s200/ImageDispCAL6M3IZ.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Lily swinging at the Deep Creek Lake&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;weeks before Evie...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SWzPVUbnOSI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/BDVnZNLJ0ek/s1600-h/ImageDispCAHVFSEH.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290831627422218530" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 134px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SWzPVUbnOSI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/BDVnZNLJ0ek/s200/ImageDispCAHVFSEH.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hiking at Swallow Falls&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SWzPU4JzEsI/AAAAAAAAAKI/prSq4cni9U8/s1600-h/ImageDispCA7K8Q91.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290831619831304898" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 134px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SWzPU4JzEsI/AAAAAAAAAKI/prSq4cni9U8/s200/ImageDispCA7K8Q91.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Since we don't live close to any family it is very important for us to spend time with our family. Sometimes it's a drive to West Virginia to hang out with Dad and Kim and getting to eat my Dad's fantastico cooking, other times it's going to Deep Creek to be with Jack's Mom and Sister, and then it might be driving to the coast and spending the week with my Mom and Aunts and Uncles. Any way you put it being with family is always a highlight for this family. Since we don't get to be with them during the day to day events I am adament to spend time with them. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Time is passing so quickly and the girls seem to be growing even quicker. I just want them to know The Family... yes, in caps. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-5973436949459122669?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/5973436949459122669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=5973436949459122669' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/5973436949459122669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/5973436949459122669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2009/01/highlights-continued.html' title='Highlights continued...'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SWzPvM5CXaI/AAAAAAAAAKo/FfVIUuU5ERc/s72-c/ImageDispCALVV8WY.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-1808492253266409136</id><published>2009-01-07T08:07:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-07T08:25:56.142-08:00</updated><title type='text'>2008 Highlight: Our first Disney TRip</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SWTXWAqotbI/AAAAAAAAAKA/F5XeUvKd0ZI/s1600-h/ImageDispCAMFMFDL.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288588635575727538" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 134px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SWTXWAqotbI/AAAAAAAAAKA/F5XeUvKd0ZI/s200/ImageDispCAMFMFDL.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Our first family trip to Disney was so much fun. I was only 3 months pregnant so I was able to enjoy myself. Lily wasn't into the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;roller coasters&lt;/span&gt; and I couldn't ride them, needless to say we made a great team. Jack and Rose were the coaster experts and prided themselves on riding as many as they could. With the extended hours the twosome road Space Mountain until 1:00am! Though their favorite was Expedition Everest. (Because it went backwards Mom! And it had a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Yetti&lt;/span&gt;!) Rose just keeps going and going. Well, until she stops. ( Note picture above of the girls the day we checked out. Total Crash Out.) It was a great experience for our family. Mainly because it was our first vacation that we took together without extended family. We were able to "be" together... without the distractions of the daily &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;grind&lt;/span&gt;. And it did my heart wonders to watch Rose and Jack have some excellent bonding time. (No sock frustrations or not listening... Right, Jack?) We ate ice cream and watched Rose lose a tooth. Lily saw the fireworks from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;on top&lt;/span&gt; of Jack's shoulders. Road it's a Small World endless times. And smiled to many times to count. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hopefully, in a few years when Evie is ready for her first Disney trip we will have another excellent time. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Hanging out with Steamboat Willy.&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SWTTpODPMcI/AAAAAAAAAJw/uh3wz-lSo2A/s1600-h/ImageDispCA5U9680.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288584567539577282" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 134px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SWTTpODPMcI/AAAAAAAAAJw/uh3wz-lSo2A/s200/ImageDispCA5U9680.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Donald and Daisy were probably our most famous autographs. We didn't get Mickey or Minnie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SWTTooNGJtI/AAAAAAAAAJg/2uKYKMknzOU/s1600-h/ImageDispCA600JAZ.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288584557380380370" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 134px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SWTTooNGJtI/AAAAAAAAAJg/2uKYKMknzOU/s200/ImageDispCA600JAZ.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-1808492253266409136?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/1808492253266409136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=1808492253266409136' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/1808492253266409136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/1808492253266409136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2009/01/2008-highlight-our-first-disney-trip.html' title='2008 Highlight: Our first Disney TRip'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SWTXWAqotbI/AAAAAAAAAKA/F5XeUvKd0ZI/s72-c/ImageDispCAMFMFDL.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-883352309389391261</id><published>2009-01-06T06:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-06T07:28:01.969-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Following Their Lead</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SWN3ppvNZzI/AAAAAAAAAJY/1isFTg3AwUw/s1600-h/IMG_3952.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288201944925300530" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 134px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SWN3ppvNZzI/AAAAAAAAAJY/1isFTg3AwUw/s200/IMG_3952.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have been reading other friend's blogs and many seem to be counting down their 2008 blessings or highlights. I have been totally into their blogs so, I'm following their lead and doing our own version of OUR HIGHLIGHTS! (Following their lead sounds much better than copycating.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;#1 EVIE !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SWN0QKXws9I/AAAAAAAAAJI/-qNzKRQNOVs/s1600-h/IMG_3585.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288198208473838546" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 134px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SWN0QKXws9I/AAAAAAAAAJI/-qNzKRQNOVs/s200/IMG_3585.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SWN0Q9CVaII/AAAAAAAAAJQ/8xB040ynnqw/s1600-h/IMG_3668.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5288198222074177666" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 134px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SWN0Q9CVaII/AAAAAAAAAJQ/8xB040ynnqw/s200/IMG_3668.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, last night Jack and I created our list and the most obvious #1 on our list is ....Evie. When I think of 2008 I automatically think of my pregnancy and the anticipation of Evie's arrival. She has been an amazing baby. I am hoping that her wonderful, playful disposition continues throughout her life. Right now she is full of big smiles and a little chatter box. Our favorite is when she lays on our bed and "talks" to us. Ugh, it is so cute that I pray I remember it always. Maybe because she is our third and probably our last (hey anything can happen) I am not so high strung. With Rose being a mom was totally new... I just didn't want to screw up. With Lily she had colic, so I was just trying to keep my sanity. Now with Evie... all four of us just get to enjoy her!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-883352309389391261?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/883352309389391261/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=883352309389391261' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/883352309389391261'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/883352309389391261'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2009/01/following-their-lead.html' title='Following Their Lead'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SWN3ppvNZzI/AAAAAAAAAJY/1isFTg3AwUw/s72-c/IMG_3952.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-1714589361503790116</id><published>2009-01-03T16:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-03T16:59:02.188-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Salad You Gotta Try!</title><content type='html'>A couple of family members asked if I could give them the recipe for the yummy salad we had at Evie's Baptism Lunch... It is a recipe that our good friends shared with us and so it is only right to pass it on.  It's named after them...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The Dooley" Nuts and Noodles Salad&lt;br /&gt;1 Cup Walnuts- Chopped&lt;br /&gt;1 Package Raman Noodles&lt;br /&gt;4 tbsp Butter&lt;br /&gt;1 Bunch Broccoli - Chopped&lt;br /&gt;1 Head Romaine Lettuce&lt;br /&gt;4 Green Onions- Chopped&lt;br /&gt;1 Cup Dressing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Brown Walnuts&amp;amp; Noodles in Butter and Cool&lt;br /&gt;Then mix all ingredients together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dressing&lt;br /&gt;1 Cup Veg. Oil&lt;br /&gt;1 Cup Sugar&lt;br /&gt;1/2 Cup Red Wine Vinegar&lt;br /&gt;3 tbsp soy sauce&lt;br /&gt;salt to taste&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-1714589361503790116?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/1714589361503790116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=1714589361503790116' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/1714589361503790116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/1714589361503790116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2009/01/salad-you-gotta-try.html' title='A Salad You Gotta Try!'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-2309723136821768651</id><published>2009-01-01T15:45:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-03T17:04:43.144-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas Continued....</title><content type='html'>Christmas at mom's... Evie couldn't hang.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SV1WziB4_YI/AAAAAAAAAIw/gxR1rerWmuU/s1600-h/IMG_3909.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286476980910882178" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SV1WziB4_YI/AAAAAAAAAIw/gxR1rerWmuU/s320/IMG_3909.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SV1WzCpbCVI/AAAAAAAAAIo/CuV8S39I3pc/s1600-h/IMG_3916.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286476972486756690" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SV1WzCpbCVI/AAAAAAAAAIo/CuV8S39I3pc/s320/IMG_3916.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Rose got a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;tee pee&lt;/span&gt; from Grandma and Pap!!! I guess we'll be using the Halloween costumes this spring as they hang out in the wigwam.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SV1Wy4SL-9I/AAAAAAAAAIg/TUdllClsLx8/s1600-h/IMG_3912.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286476969704946642" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SV1Wy4SL-9I/AAAAAAAAAIg/TUdllClsLx8/s320/IMG_3912.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lily loving anything Barbie!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So we had Christmas morning again on December 27&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;... Mom said no on really knows what day Jesus was born on and that she just wanted all of her children together. I must say I love being with my family.... we are hysterical together... the older we get the more I love each one of them. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Miki&lt;/span&gt; loves my girls. She showers them with love and gifts gifts gifts, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;BJ&lt;/span&gt; is a constant jungle gym for the girls (he says it's the best &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;birth control&lt;/span&gt; for he and his wife) and he is a constant talker.... at any time you have no idea what he is going to say, Vern is my silent brother he enjoys being were the action is and will provide a zinger of a comment when no on is ready, Meghann and her husband are the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;newlyweds&lt;/span&gt; reminding me to appreciate my husband more, Amy is the young college girl enjoying being young and having fun, Tom my crazy, silly, Grateful Dead loving brother is growing up and none of us know what to do. The only one missing was Scott off in Colorado... exploring and loving the snow! Though we miss him we know he's growing and learning. And none of us can fault that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-2309723136821768651?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/2309723136821768651/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=2309723136821768651' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/2309723136821768651'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/2309723136821768651'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2009/01/christmas-continued.html' title='Christmas Continued....'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SV1WziB4_YI/AAAAAAAAAIw/gxR1rerWmuU/s72-c/IMG_3909.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-2592165801888454476</id><published>2009-01-01T15:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-03T17:02:12.412-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Christmas!!</title><content type='html'>Christmas 2008!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SV1RwUd4-AI/AAAAAAAAAIY/ZPSTK1JZi9I/s1600-h/IMG_3897.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286471428172478466" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SV1RwUd4-AI/AAAAAAAAAIY/ZPSTK1JZi9I/s320/IMG_3897.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Altmeyer Family Christmas Tree!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As always we have a hard time picking a small tree... this one by far has been the biggest, but it was a special year. Our first time having Christmas at home and with our beautiful Evie.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SV1RwPd2l3I/AAAAAAAAAIQ/8EvIw-CMKF4/s1600-h/IMG_3882.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286471426830145394" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SV1RwPd2l3I/AAAAAAAAAIQ/8EvIw-CMKF4/s320/IMG_3882.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Check out our sweet little girls staying up late on Christmas Eve. I didn't buy new Christmas PJ's like I have in years past... we went "green" and recycled pajamas from past Christmases...they didn't care.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So our first Christmas at home. It was great. Not that going home to WV is not a blast, but it was just sweet to stay at home and not fight holiday traffic and lug our presents 7 hours just to bring them back. But, it was just fun. We made it to Christmas Eve Mass where Lily was a little lamb in the children's performance. Believe it or not Rose got stage fright and could not go on... total proof that my children constantly keep me guessing. Then after Mass we came home had a wonderful meal... getting to use our wedding China (only the 2nd time in 7 1/2 years), and then watched a little Christmas Story until we tucked the girls into bed... I'll never forget Lily swearing that she heard santa and his reindeer on the roof as we were saying prayers for the night. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Of course Christmas morning was perfect... the girls running in and laying in bed wondering if Santa really came. But, even in the mist of all the new Christmas traditions Rose was emphatic that we all line up youngest to oldest as we entered the family room. This is a tradition that my family has done my entire life and when Rose pointed out that we must&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; also do this I was touched. LONG LIVE THAT TRADITION! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Even though Santa made it to NC this year we still travelled the next day to see WV family... onto the next post..... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-2592165801888454476?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/2592165801888454476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=2592165801888454476' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/2592165801888454476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/2592165801888454476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2009/01/christmas.html' title='Christmas!!'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SV1RwUd4-AI/AAAAAAAAAIY/ZPSTK1JZi9I/s72-c/IMG_3897.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-8717298451960057387</id><published>2008-12-19T05:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-01T16:10:31.179-08:00</updated><title type='text'>90 Years!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SUuoH4eM8fI/AAAAAAAAAH4/mnr2jBpK9qE/s1600-h/IMG_3778.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281499841393652210" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SUuoH4eM8fI/AAAAAAAAAH4/mnr2jBpK9qE/s320/IMG_3778.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We got to celebrate Grandad's 90th birthday...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;more to come later... the phone is ringing.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-8717298451960057387?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/8717298451960057387/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=8717298451960057387' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/8717298451960057387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/8717298451960057387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2008/12/90-years.html' title='90 Years!'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SUuoH4eM8fI/AAAAAAAAAH4/mnr2jBpK9qE/s72-c/IMG_3778.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-6961379035537871728</id><published>2008-12-19T05:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-19T05:52:35.428-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fun in the Snow</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SUueZrOH7WI/AAAAAAAAAHw/Q5gyC51uxE4/s1600-h/IMG_3754.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281489151957921122" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SUueZrOH7WI/AAAAAAAAAHw/Q5gyC51uxE4/s320/IMG_3754.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think one of the greatest things growing up was spending hours  playing out in the snow, so when we went back home we were blessed with a few inches of the white stuff.  The girls were overjoyed with the thoughts of snowangels, snowmen, and snowball fights.  Therefore, the first morning Rose and Lily, along with their cousins, suited up for the event.  We were a scene straight from A Christmas Story..."I can't put my arms down!" kinda stuff.  And after a good thirty minutes they were out the door...I was extremely proud at our accomplishments and was rewarding myself with a cup of coffee and a magazine.  So, for about 10 minutes I was in bliss....until the doorbell rings (my children are so polite)  both girls are crying... Lily has disobeyed the number one cardinal rule in playing in the snow and has taken her gloves off and Rose well, has taken a boot off (because it was bothering her) and besides "Mommy it is really cold out there."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously???  They unsuit.  I sigh. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SUueY81TjAI/AAAAAAAAAHo/Wr2dkkiNSTI/s1600-h/IMG_3768.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281489139505794050" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 214px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SUueY81TjAI/AAAAAAAAAHo/Wr2dkkiNSTI/s320/IMG_3768.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We decide to try again later...when it warms up a bit.  And it does.  A little less snow, but nonetheless they get back out there.  I join in this time...and show them how to roll snowmen and make stellar snowballs.  Needless to say we (I) had fun.  We stayed outside running around and playing for at least an hour, and Rose wouldn't come in; she was having such a great time.  Hopefully, at Christmas we'll get another snow and we can get Daddy out for a snowball battle!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SUueYAHpMyI/AAAAAAAAAHg/zlQd3U3SH1w/s1600-h/IMG_3750.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5281489123208147746" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SUueYAHpMyI/AAAAAAAAAHg/zlQd3U3SH1w/s320/IMG_3750.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-6961379035537871728?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/6961379035537871728/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=6961379035537871728' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/6961379035537871728'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/6961379035537871728'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2008/12/fun-in-snow.html' title='Fun in the Snow'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SUueZrOH7WI/AAAAAAAAAHw/Q5gyC51uxE4/s72-c/IMG_3754.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-4365434355848035034</id><published>2008-11-05T12:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-05T13:05:37.336-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Carving pumpkins</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SRIJ13r8YJI/AAAAAAAAAHY/eOAS7-N-i2I/s1600-h/IMG_3644.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265281735435509906" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SRIJ13r8YJI/AAAAAAAAAHY/eOAS7-N-i2I/s320/IMG_3644.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our annual pumkin carving fest...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SRIJ1vPVpBI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/Cq5KeiNoD5c/s1600-h/IMG_3649.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265281733168047122" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SRIJ1vPVpBI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/Cq5KeiNoD5c/s320/IMG_3649.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;got pretty cool this year!&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SRIJ1f8rcjI/AAAAAAAAAHI/O1RvVKZWQtQ/s1600-h/IMG_3638.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265281729063252530" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SRIJ1f8rcjI/AAAAAAAAAHI/O1RvVKZWQtQ/s320/IMG_3638.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SRIJ0x1f3MI/AAAAAAAAAHA/NsRgbmYfCWQ/s1600-h/IMG_3637.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265281716685102274" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SRIJ0x1f3MI/AAAAAAAAAHA/NsRgbmYfCWQ/s320/IMG_3637.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SRIJ0hUn9KI/AAAAAAAAAG4/-0RTa3aAcjo/s1600-h/IMG_3634.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5265281712252253346" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SRIJ0hUn9KI/AAAAAAAAAG4/-0RTa3aAcjo/s320/IMG_3634.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We went to our neighbors just like last year, but we had cupcake decorating, pumpkin carving, hot chocolate drinking, roaring fire watching, and marshmallow roasting. Yes, all on a school night!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;To quote a 10,000 Maniacs song from the 90's "These are days you'll remember. Never before and never since, I promise, will the whole world be warm as this. And as you feel it, you'll know its true that you are blessed and lucky. Its true that you are touched by something that will grow and bloom in you." And the great thing is... there are so many days like this...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Good Times.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-4365434355848035034?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/4365434355848035034/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=4365434355848035034' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/4365434355848035034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/4365434355848035034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2008/11/carving-pumpkins.html' title='Carving pumpkins'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SRIJ13r8YJI/AAAAAAAAAHY/eOAS7-N-i2I/s72-c/IMG_3644.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-6442578762812508531</id><published>2008-10-01T08:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-01T08:13:30.208-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Evie!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SOOTg6_BxaI/AAAAAAAAAGA/8RvFwUyQBJo/s1600-h/IMG_3511.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5252203784242840994" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SOOTg6_BxaI/AAAAAAAAAGA/8RvFwUyQBJo/s320/IMG_3511.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here is our newest bundle of JOY. Evie was born Sept. 19th at 8:27... via a c-section. She is amazing and a little sleepy-head. She is surrounded by two big sisters that love love love her and two proud parents that adore her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So much more to follow....&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-6442578762812508531?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/6442578762812508531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=6442578762812508531' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/6442578762812508531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/6442578762812508531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2008/10/evie.html' title='Evie!'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SOOTg6_BxaI/AAAAAAAAAGA/8RvFwUyQBJo/s72-c/IMG_3511.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-2782722560104907873</id><published>2008-09-15T14:56:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T15:48:00.145-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The waiting game...</title><content type='html'>So, today is my official due date. The date that when asked from the grocery store clerk, "When's your due date?" I firmly answer September 15th. The date that you count down to. The date that for 9 full months you look to. That date that on the family calendar says... "Rose Hot Lunch" "Karate 6:00pm" "Bathroom Final Inspection 4:00pm" ... you see writing down "Baby Due" would be to permanent. And I know that nothing about babies arriving in this world could be written down on a calendar like all of the other appointments in my life. Honestly, how could it? So, as an expectant mother I wait by filling up the calendar and trying not to be to concrete about anything...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel fine no pains to really slow me down, well besides the 40 pounds I have gained. (That when lost, Lily is going to be in total shock that I can finally beat her in a race to the car. I'm so tired of being the rotten egg!) But, it's just the waiting game, the wondering game, the known fact that in a few days our lives will change. And wondering about all the beauties and struggles it will bring with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have totally enjoyed my third pregnancy all the little and big kicks. The girls have been so sweet I will never forget their hands on my belly anxiously waiting for the baby to move. Or all of the kisses they've given to the baby. (They are at the perfect height to reach my belly for a kiss.) But, we are ready. And from all the calls from my family and friends they are ready... my brother Vern called yesterday asking about the baby. So, it must be serious now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for due dates. This one is almost over, and the C-section date is the 19th. Which I will be taking more seriously now. I honeslty, just want the safest and healthiest delivery possible. So, what does the calendar say for tomorrow? "Rose Mass- Wear Jumper" "Afternoon Playdate?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-2782722560104907873?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/2782722560104907873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=2782722560104907873' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/2782722560104907873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/2782722560104907873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2008/09/waiting-game.html' title='The waiting game...'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-6100643723514291596</id><published>2008-09-04T09:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-06T04:57:38.523-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting Ready for Baby</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SMAQT7hiTDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/lchW1N6YljM/s1600-h/IMG_3407.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242207900841167922" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SMAQT7hiTDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/lchW1N6YljM/s320/IMG_3407.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SMAQUA5ZQkI/AAAAAAAAAFo/dK-q2mtcpPw/s1600-h/IMG_3408.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242207902283416130" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SMAQUA5ZQkI/AAAAAAAAAFo/dK-q2mtcpPw/s320/IMG_3408.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The dreaded snot sucker.... good thing Lily will help out with that. I hate to use it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SMAQURhq-XI/AAAAAAAAAFw/2gtxCaziwXQ/s1600-h/IMG_3411.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242207906747316594" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SMAQURhq-XI/AAAAAAAAAFw/2gtxCaziwXQ/s320/IMG_3411.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rose learning the fine art of diapering a dalmation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SMAQUisAkAI/AAAAAAAAAF4/C3rfTFDV5bE/s1600-h/IMG_3413.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242207911354077186" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SMAQUisAkAI/AAAAAAAAAF4/C3rfTFDV5bE/s320/IMG_3413.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a gentle holder!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In preparation for the baby our hospital offers a Big sister/ Big brother class. I did it mainly so the girls could see the room and the bed, and let their little minds know what was going on and what to expect. As you can see from the pictures they got to have a little crash test on what the experience will be like. They were so wide eyed and eager to do everything that I think the experience went very well.  It is crazy to  see all of the advancements that hospitals have made it just the last 4 years that we might as well take advantage.&lt;br /&gt;With the countdown to the new baby just days away... 8 days to the due date as I write this... we all hold our breath with anxious anticipation.  Knowing that each birthing experience is such a wild ride I have no idea honestly what to expect; much less after our newest little girl arrives what our lives will be like.&lt;br /&gt;Right now my prayers are focused on a healthy baby with a safe delivery... but daily I pray that Rose and Lily embrace their new little sister... and that Jack and I can smile and laugh through the daily stuggles of a newborn.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-6100643723514291596?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/6100643723514291596/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=6100643723514291596' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/6100643723514291596'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/6100643723514291596'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2008/09/getting-ready-for-baby.html' title='Getting Ready for Baby'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SMAQT7hiTDI/AAAAAAAAAFg/lchW1N6YljM/s72-c/IMG_3407.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-4182422266147215413</id><published>2008-09-04T09:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T14:54:58.726-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Beach Vacation</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SMAIFHLtE2I/AAAAAAAAAFA/c2Poh9JHeYo/s1600-h/IMG_3297.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242198850179765090" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SMAIFHLtE2I/AAAAAAAAAFA/c2Poh9JHeYo/s320/IMG_3297.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Yep, that's my girl!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girls playing some beach golf.&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SMAIFpi-buI/AAAAAAAAAFI/TnDRlsbjv18/s1600-h/IMG_3333.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242198859404177122" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SMAIFpi-buI/AAAAAAAAAFI/TnDRlsbjv18/s320/IMG_3333.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stopping by the sea oats for a quick picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SMAIGNNVCmI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/9z1jihCB940/s1600-h/IMG_3399.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242198868977060450" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SMAIGNNVCmI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/9z1jihCB940/s320/IMG_3399.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SMAIGQ6oSpI/AAAAAAAAAFY/2eAsQCNpvm0/s1600-h/IMG_3375.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5242198869972372114" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SMAIGQ6oSpI/AAAAAAAAAFY/2eAsQCNpvm0/s320/IMG_3375.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our family....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, another summer has come to it's official end. What a whirlwind! I know that we went to WV and the beach for a total of about three weeks, but for the rest of the time we really stayed put at home. The girls are really such a joy... they honestly are laid back and content to go to our neighborhood swimming pool for the afternoon and enjoy splashing in the hot NC sun. So, the beach was suprisingly easy this year. Rose loved loved boogie boarding, and thank goodness so does her Aunt Miki. Lily could find joy in a sandbucket and ankle water, and I was able to be a pregnant beached whale at the water's edge. The weather was beautiful and we have such a large family that comes to the beach there never was a shortage of conversation. Especially, when you get my Aunts and Uncles together... I honestly don't think there is a conversation topic that is taboo for them.... Political Candidates. Check. Religious Freedoms. Check. FEMA. Check. Teenage Growing Pains. Check. War. Check. What is the best beer to drinkat the beach? Check. (Jack's answer is Landshark. Uncle Franks is Coors Light any time.) Check. And where does one put a fart machine to impose maximum laughter. Check.&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say I enjoy my week at the beach not only for the awesome view and relaxing beach time, but for the ever changing dynamics of family! Until next year.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-4182422266147215413?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/4182422266147215413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=4182422266147215413' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/4182422266147215413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/4182422266147215413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2008/09/beach-vacation.html' title='Beach Vacation'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SMAIFHLtE2I/AAAAAAAAAFA/c2Poh9JHeYo/s72-c/IMG_3297.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-7771276991173356232</id><published>2008-08-22T05:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-22T06:00:43.906-07:00</updated><title type='text'>At Mom's</title><content type='html'>Here's the entire family at my mom's.  We got to enjoy an evening of togetherness poolside.  The girls played in the pool most of the time.  The guys sat and talked about WVU sports and made predictions about the Steeler's up coming season... not to mention later on that night they watched the Buccos rally from behind to actually win a game.  And of course we had the dogs:  Maggie, Abbi, and Bomber to entertain us as they chased deer.... Well, Maggie and Abbi chased deer my Dad made Bomber stay at home.  Poor guy.&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SK62LsRquAI/AAAAAAAAAEo/g--8EENDzdA/s1600-h/IMG_3255.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237323728658544642" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SK62LsRquAI/AAAAAAAAAEo/g--8EENDzdA/s320/IMG_3255.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SK62L6rmYdI/AAAAAAAAAEw/C6SPw509JGE/s1600-h/IMG_3249.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237323732525408722" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SK62L6rmYdI/AAAAAAAAAEw/C6SPw509JGE/s320/IMG_3249.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; My two bathing beauties haning out in the pool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SK62MfvBLQI/AAAAAAAAAE4/2jh8wET2cq0/s1600-h/IMG_3252.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237323742471859458" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SK62MfvBLQI/AAAAAAAAAE4/2jh8wET2cq0/s320/IMG_3252.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lily making a splash off of the diving board.  What a summer for her and swimming.  She is a little go getter and soooooo fearless.  "No, Mommy I can do it!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-7771276991173356232?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/7771276991173356232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=7771276991173356232' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/7771276991173356232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/7771276991173356232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2008/08/at-moms.html' title='At Mom&apos;s'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SK62LsRquAI/AAAAAAAAAEo/g--8EENDzdA/s72-c/IMG_3255.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-6335611548718886854</id><published>2008-08-22T05:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-22T05:45:59.971-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Friends at Valley Falls</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SK6zyMPSOYI/AAAAAAAAAEg/tvX0WIcbxao/s1600-h/IMG_3281.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237321091538631042" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SK6zyMPSOYI/AAAAAAAAAEg/tvX0WIcbxao/s320/IMG_3281.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check it out. This is a rare picture of me pregnant... I don't do so well being photographed in general. I normally prefer the other side of the camera. But, here's a pic of the girls and I that Stac snapped!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SK6yFA-M43I/AAAAAAAAAEA/PFLX83ajPic/s1600-h/IMG_3276.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237319215908447090" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SK6yFA-M43I/AAAAAAAAAEA/PFLX83ajPic/s320/IMG_3276.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok. You all know how much Valley Falls means to mean. I love it here. So, I always try to take the girls on a trip out to share my love of this place with them. This was the first time they were really able to explore the area, but if I could have had a string tied to them to make sure they would not float away I would have been happier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SK6yFjAAUaI/AAAAAAAAAEI/a41AUDgokiI/s1600-h/IMG_3280.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237319225042817442" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SK6yFjAAUaI/AAAAAAAAAEI/a41AUDgokiI/s320/IMG_3280.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Stacy and Iona soakin' up the life... As always Stacy too is ready to head out an enjoy time here. So many memories ...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was great being able to see Matt. Here he and Rose are having a swinging contest... I do think Matt got a little higer than Rose, but I'll never tell her! &lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SK6yGB0yAZI/AAAAAAAAAEY/ngYgmKJEObk/s1600-h/IMG_3284.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237319233317241234" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SK6yGB0yAZI/AAAAAAAAAEY/ngYgmKJEObk/s320/IMG_3284.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-6335611548718886854?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/6335611548718886854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=6335611548718886854' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/6335611548718886854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/6335611548718886854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2008/08/friends-at-valley-falls.html' title='Friends at Valley Falls'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SK6zyMPSOYI/AAAAAAAAAEg/tvX0WIcbxao/s72-c/IMG_3281.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-5935032504282353148</id><published>2008-08-22T05:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-22T05:21:57.306-07:00</updated><title type='text'>More fun at Deep Creek</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SK6sxxOu0ZI/AAAAAAAAADg/J3i3hkpTCbk/s1600-h/IMG_3159.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237313387707158930" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SK6sxxOu0ZI/AAAAAAAAADg/J3i3hkpTCbk/s320/IMG_3159.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's a few more pictures from our beautiful week .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ama and the girls cruisin' the lake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SK6sySzIaUI/AAAAAAAAADo/kVRuxciGVj4/s1600-h/IMG_3170.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237313396718201154" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SK6sySzIaUI/AAAAAAAAADo/kVRuxciGVj4/s320/IMG_3170.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rose and Ryan cooling off after a whirling around the lake. No doubt Ryan is angling how to get Ama or Brian to take him on the jet ski. Which by the way is one of the favorite past times for all the kids at the lake.&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SK6syiB9qlI/AAAAAAAAADw/xwhfRT8sxwU/s1600-h/IMG_3175.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237313400806943314" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SK6syiB9qlI/AAAAAAAAADw/xwhfRT8sxwU/s320/IMG_3175.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is Maggie's first attempt at sailing. You can see Jack is helping out here. She totally got the hang of it after spending some time figuring it out.&lt;br /&gt;I must say being pregnant at the lake does take a little fun away... I never got to do some really cool stuff (That was just a tiny pitty party for me).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SK6sy4z2xKI/AAAAAAAAAD4/V8X_8J3xe94/s1600-h/IMG_3172.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237313406921786530" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SK6sy4z2xKI/AAAAAAAAAD4/V8X_8J3xe94/s320/IMG_3172.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A quiet moment sitting by the shore. Our family did take the canoe out on the lake for a brief spin, but it was a pretty bumpy ride. Any time the girls moved or slightly shifted I had the feeling we all were going on the water! And of course they had to paddle a bit too... which again left Jack and I helpless to their movements.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-5935032504282353148?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/5935032504282353148/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=5935032504282353148' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/5935032504282353148'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/5935032504282353148'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2008/08/more-fun-at-deep-creek.html' title='More fun at Deep Creek'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SK6sxxOu0ZI/AAAAAAAAADg/J3i3hkpTCbk/s72-c/IMG_3159.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-4078802618981107322</id><published>2008-08-22T04:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-22T05:01:41.033-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Deep Creek</title><content type='html'>Here I am playing catch-up on my summer.  This bloggin' thing is harder to keep up with than I thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pictures I have here are a few from our Deep Creek week with Jack's family.  We had a wonderful time and the weather was perfect.  All the things that you could wish for at the lake.  We enjoyed a hike to Swallow Falls that made me want to freak out due to the amount of rushing water and the age of my children.  We went on many cruises in the boat and got to watch Maggie work her new boat toy as well we got to see AMA water ski was such ease it was amazing.  To bad Jack did not have the same experience.  We also got to have campfires and watch an spectacular (and legal) firework show that was put on by Ama's husband and little boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pictures here are from one of the last nights at the Creek.  We went on a little sunset cruise after dinner.  Which in my opinion is the best time to be out on the lake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SK6ohCEJ0LI/AAAAAAAAAC4/3uqAogNXpAo/s1600-h/IMG_3201.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237308702121906354" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SK6ohCEJ0LI/AAAAAAAAAC4/3uqAogNXpAo/s320/IMG_3201.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; My little poser. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rose and Lily with Grammy getting ready to set sail&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SK6ohaWurHI/AAAAAAAAADA/a8PjDhymrhU/s1600-h/IMG_3232.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237308708642270322" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SK6ohaWurHI/AAAAAAAAADA/a8PjDhymrhU/s320/IMG_3232.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SK6ohurcySI/AAAAAAAAADI/rBtGZB_WuKc/s1600-h/IMG_3234.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237308714097887522" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SK6ohurcySI/AAAAAAAAADI/rBtGZB_WuKc/s320/IMG_3234.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Both of the girls get to sit with the Captain and drive a bit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SK6oh1r85WI/AAAAAAAAADQ/BFxR4946cxY/s1600-h/IMG_3239.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237308715979040098" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SK6oh1r85WI/AAAAAAAAADQ/BFxR4946cxY/s320/IMG_3239.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SK6oiDl7blI/AAAAAAAAADY/v09e9ksInHU/s1600-h/IMG_3237.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5237308719711874642" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SK6oiDl7blI/AAAAAAAAADY/v09e9ksInHU/s320/IMG_3237.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahhhh..... sunsets.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-4078802618981107322?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/4078802618981107322/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=4078802618981107322' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/4078802618981107322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/4078802618981107322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2008/08/deep-creek.html' title='Deep Creek'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SK6ohCEJ0LI/AAAAAAAAAC4/3uqAogNXpAo/s72-c/IMG_3201.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-7736584938190235645</id><published>2008-06-27T13:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-27T13:44:49.554-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Strawberry Pickin'</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SGVM_lA09rI/AAAAAAAAACY/BIkjAHjg0BM/s1600-h/IMG_3011.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216660398529640114" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SGVM_lA09rI/AAAAAAAAACY/BIkjAHjg0BM/s320/IMG_3011.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SGVNAO04VXI/AAAAAAAAACg/fGweOdF4MZs/s1600-h/IMG_3016.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216660409753818482" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SGVNAO04VXI/AAAAAAAAACg/fGweOdF4MZs/s320/IMG_3016.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SGVNFnhiV2I/AAAAAAAAACo/bo7geVw4L0k/s1600-h/IMG_3017.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216660502282917730" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SGVNFnhiV2I/AAAAAAAAACo/bo7geVw4L0k/s320/IMG_3017.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SGVNJFj-BWI/AAAAAAAAACw/qmsAcXHa3M8/s1600-h/IMG_3020.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216660561885791586" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SGVNJFj-BWI/AAAAAAAAACw/qmsAcXHa3M8/s320/IMG_3020.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;One of my favorite things to do with the girls is strawberry pickin'. There are so many great farms in the area that allow you to buy a bucket and fill it with those sweet berries that we take full advantage. This year was our best pickin' yet. The weather was great... not to hot with lots of sunshine, and as an added bonus both girls were totally into it. In years past Lily was more of a curious on looker that would run through the patch like Godzilla and create her own strawberry stomping that was a little more resembling of the infamous "I Love Lucy" grape stomping episode rather than a utopian "Sound of Music" the hills are alive scene that I had romantically concocted in my brain. But, this year we all had buckets and plenty of red, ripe strawberries to taste test our harvest. After, the girls played checkers outdoors and drank orange Crush. Which in my book is definition of a perfect afternoon! Enjoy the pics...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-7736584938190235645?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/7736584938190235645/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=7736584938190235645' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/7736584938190235645'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/7736584938190235645'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2008/06/strawberry-pickin.html' title='Strawberry Pickin&apos;'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SGVM_lA09rI/AAAAAAAAACY/BIkjAHjg0BM/s72-c/IMG_3011.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-6737082333658960351</id><published>2008-06-27T12:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-27T13:45:38.971-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Kindergarten Graduation</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SGVElQ1105I/AAAAAAAAAB0/ut1wzFVYdZs/s1600-h/IMG_3130.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216651150345229202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SGVElQ1105I/AAAAAAAAAB0/ut1wzFVYdZs/s320/IMG_3130.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SGVEmE_lksI/AAAAAAAAAB8/XqPztr0j2UY/s1600-h/IMG_3132.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216651164344750786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SGVEmE_lksI/AAAAAAAAAB8/XqPztr0j2UY/s320/IMG_3132.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SGVEmT_zu9I/AAAAAAAAACE/7u-JIQ6Iulo/s1600-h/IMG_3111.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216651168372210642" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SGVEmT_zu9I/AAAAAAAAACE/7u-JIQ6Iulo/s320/IMG_3111.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SGVDK0DFDRI/AAAAAAAAABs/MNHqLZtskCA/s1600-h/IMG_3104.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216649596427898130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 223px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="320" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SGVDK0DFDRI/AAAAAAAAABs/MNHqLZtskCA/s320/IMG_3104.JPG" width="306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, our sweet girl has offically graduated from Kindergarten. What a fun and exciting year. It is hard to believe that time has flown so quickly and my baby is going to school. Don't get me wrong I don't want her to stay a baby forever. I love watching her grow, learn, and just have a zest for life in her own spunky way. It's just that it all goes so darn fast, doesn't it? It's probably the pregnancy hormones kickin' in, but during her graduation ceremony her principal delivered a little speech about how the next time we blink they will be driving, going on dates, going to dances... and I got choked up. I feel that that is ten years away hold the phone let'em grow-up slowly. And I know there is no stopping time, but I just want to savor time a little bit especially while she still wants me to hug her, read to her, play with her, and have a bed time snuggle. Being a parent is such a delicate balancing act when to let go? when to hold back? But, I guess its mostly just holding on and enjoying the wild ride.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-6737082333658960351?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/6737082333658960351/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=6737082333658960351' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/6737082333658960351'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/6737082333658960351'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2008/06/kindergarten-graduation.html' title='Kindergarten Graduation'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SGVElQ1105I/AAAAAAAAAB0/ut1wzFVYdZs/s72-c/IMG_3130.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-7092942294562543213</id><published>2008-06-27T12:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-27T12:19:14.011-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What a Spring!</title><content type='html'>Spring has been very busy as anyone can see with my lack of blogging, but I've a bit of time and have pictures downloaded.  Finally.  Our computer is extremely slow.  So, welcome summer and more fun... but just to recap our spring.... here we go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-7092942294562543213?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/7092942294562543213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=7092942294562543213' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/7092942294562543213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/7092942294562543213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2008/06/what-spring.html' title='What a Spring!'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-5347063967211974882</id><published>2008-05-27T05:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-27T05:43:40.516-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Holding up my donkey!</title><content type='html'>News Flash:  Just added to our families vernacular! "I'm holding up my donkey!"  Last night upon getting out of the bathtub Lily asked for the coveted princess towel, and when I handed it to her she said, "Yeah, I'm holding up my donkey!"  I asked what that meant she said, "It means I'm excited."  Enough said...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-5347063967211974882?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/5347063967211974882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=5347063967211974882' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/5347063967211974882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/5347063967211974882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2008/05/holding-up-my-donkey.html' title='Holding up my donkey!'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-4032604255688278689</id><published>2008-05-24T08:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-24T08:39:28.666-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Reading</title><content type='html'>Just wanted to share a great moment....  I was busy cleaning the kitchen after our baking explosion for Memorial Day parties and the girls were playing in the family room.  They have spent the morning creating a blanket fort.  (A great Saturday morning past time in my book)  Anyways I digress, I hear Rose reading.  Yep, she just picked up this cute book about ants and starts reading it with as much enthusiasm and expression as I always give it.  But, the cutest part is Lily is sitting there beside her listening very intently.  I am such a sap for moments like these...&lt;br /&gt;Mainly impart because we read to our girls every night for 20 minutes.  We have done this since they were days old.  And watching my children in such a simple moment just as this lets me know that they love to read... you know without prompting or not because it's part of the bedtime routine.  And ultimately they chose to read &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;instead&lt;/span&gt; of turning on the TV. &lt;br /&gt;So, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;ya'hoo&lt;/span&gt; for reading and the joys of childhood!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-4032604255688278689?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/4032604255688278689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=4032604255688278689' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/4032604255688278689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/4032604255688278689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2008/05/reading.html' title='Reading'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-7473441056316622190</id><published>2008-05-16T05:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-16T05:49:06.207-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Disney!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SC19x2PC6eI/AAAAAAAAABE/ORgILwoTrmQ/s1600-h/IMG_2763.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200951440008473058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SC19x2PC6eI/AAAAAAAAABE/ORgILwoTrmQ/s320/IMG_2763.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Here's the new version of "Steamboat Willie". Who's steering the boat??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SC19yGPC6fI/AAAAAAAAABM/ScIfjWMo1Ic/s1600-h/IMG_2735.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200951444303440370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SC19yGPC6fI/AAAAAAAAABM/ScIfjWMo1Ic/s320/IMG_2735.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; On our way to the Magic Kingdom the first day.  The boat ferry was the perfect way for the girls to first see Cinderella's castle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SC19yWPC6gI/AAAAAAAAABU/IXgWtmNk_Cw/s1600-h/IMG_2829.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200951448598407682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SC19yWPC6gI/AAAAAAAAABU/IXgWtmNk_Cw/s320/IMG_2829.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Meeting Cinderella.  The girls were troopers.  It was about 9:30 at night and we had spent the entire day on rides... so the smiles though genuine, were very tired.&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SC19ymPC6hI/AAAAAAAAABc/w9IuBnkLdXA/s1600-h/IMG_2882.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200951452893374994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SC19ymPC6hI/AAAAAAAAABc/w9IuBnkLdXA/s320/IMG_2882.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Lily and I spent much time in Dino Land at the Animal Kingdom.  The Triceratop Spin was her favorite.  Four times her favorite!  Jack and Rose spent their time riding big kid rides.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SC19y2PC6iI/AAAAAAAAABk/MdR-AjTULvE/s1600-h/IMG_2846.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200951457188342306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SC19y2PC6iI/AAAAAAAAABk/MdR-AjTULvE/s320/IMG_2846.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Yes, my husband bought a Mickey shirt... when in Disney.  It was unseasonably cold and rainy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, I have a bunch more pictures, but I just wanted to share a few.  We had a wonderful time and can't wait until we are able to go again.  I love the family fun!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-7473441056316622190?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/7473441056316622190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=7473441056316622190' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/7473441056316622190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/7473441056316622190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2008/05/disney.html' title='Disney!'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SC19x2PC6eI/AAAAAAAAABE/ORgILwoTrmQ/s72-c/IMG_2763.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-8705749398381555782</id><published>2008-05-14T15:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-28T11:10:18.494-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Obi-Wan Vs. My Girls</title><content type='html'>Getting my children dressed for school is always interesting. Now that Rose wears a uniform life is sweeeet. There is not much discussion. "Do you want to wear a jumper or a skort?" Simple. Now last year at preschool the conversation was much more critical. Of course desiring my child to be independent and responsible I wanted her to get herself dressed. But, this lead to some crazy outfits: stripe shirt and stripe pants, dark pink sweater with a summer pink skirt, Christmas dress in May...you get my drift. Not wanting to totally squash her budding fashion sense I would redirect. (My Star Wars parenting advice taken from Obi-Wan Kenobi..."Those are not the droids your looking for." Translated to parent redirecting, "That's not the outfit perfect for today.") Normally my redirecting would result in a meltdown of epic proportions and I would tell my 5 year old that her outfit would be great for playing around the house. "Anyways" I would say, "You look ridiculous!" End of story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this year with Lily in preschool the morning dress has been a breeze. She never cares what I put on her. As long as she has two options for Iniminiminimo we are golden! But, today it happened... all going well with the normal routine... lay out two outfits (both pink) and a meltdown comes from nowhere. "No Mommy! I don't like pink. I don't want to wear pants! I want to pick out my own!" OK. Deep breath. I'm cool. "Sure Lily, let's figure something out together." After 10 minutes of stripe shirt and stripe skort combos (As well as "that's not the perfect outfit for today.") we come up with a very blue outfit...decidedly her new favorite color. Off to preschool...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now my life being, well my life, later in the afternoon I go in to pick up Lily from her classroom. She is standing in the middle of the room very proud holding a pink balloon. "Mommy look I got the pink balloon. Everyone wanted it, but PINK is my favorite color!" Great Lily... Great.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now knowing I have a third girl on the way I hope that I will be ahead of the game. You know wiser... sharper and ready for some Jedi mind tricks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obi-Wan you're my only hope...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-8705749398381555782?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/8705749398381555782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=8705749398381555782' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/8705749398381555782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/8705749398381555782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2008/05/obi-wan-vs-my-girls.html' title='Obi-Wan Vs. My Girls'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-4591275392788891617</id><published>2008-05-02T08:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-02T13:08:08.017-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Smurfs</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SBs9NPXoIQI/AAAAAAAAAA8/j8serFMCzyU/s1600-h/IMG_3001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195813892775223554" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SBs9NPXoIQI/AAAAAAAAAA8/j8serFMCzyU/s320/IMG_3001.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SBs6JPXoIPI/AAAAAAAAAA0/jYNdqyC-sqo/s1600-h/IMG_2998.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5195810525520863474" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SBs6JPXoIPI/AAAAAAAAAA0/jYNdqyC-sqo/s320/IMG_2998.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;While spending the afternoon outside my girls were innovative. Yes, innovative. I was busy pulling a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;myriad&lt;/span&gt; of weeds from the planting beds and the girls were at work. It honestly was great. Every now and then I would holler asking if everything was alright, and I was always returned with a "yes, mom". So, I was productive and got to work in the yard: two of my favorite things to do.&lt;br /&gt;After thirty minutes I decide that I should physically look in on the girls, and yes this is what I saw. Lily a little &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;smurfette&lt;/span&gt; and Rose was admiring her handy work. "Look mom, Lily is Blue!" "Yes, Rose she is...let me get the camera!" So we snapped pictures and Lily danced around for awhile (notice the blue footprints) until it was time to bathe.&lt;br /&gt;It's funny when children are left to play they will be children. A bucket of chalk, a little water, and two sisters can turn into some serious fun. I know it was a mess, but with the next rain it was all washed away. And to quote Cyndi &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Lauper&lt;/span&gt;, "Girls just want to have fun... &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ohhh&lt;/span&gt;, Girls just want to have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;fu&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;un&lt;/span&gt;!" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-4591275392788891617?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/4591275392788891617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=4591275392788891617' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/4591275392788891617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/4591275392788891617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2008/05/smurfs.html' title='Smurfs'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_ciU0M6-oBiQ/SBs9NPXoIQI/AAAAAAAAAA8/j8serFMCzyU/s72-c/IMG_3001.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-228370969022256734</id><published>2008-04-27T11:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-27T12:34:26.877-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Family Walks</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt; I'm a romantic..... it's Sunday early evening last week and the weather was beautiful.  You know 70 degrees, a slight breeze, and just sunny.  So, I recommend to my husband that a family walk would be great.  He agrees. &lt;br /&gt;    In my mind this is how I picture the walk.  Rose cautiously riding her bike along with us as Lily patiently sits in her stroller and enjoys the sights of the neighborhood.   I am walking the dog as my husband and I have a wonderful conversation about how ideal our life is. &lt;br /&gt;    But, this is not my life.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;In fact&lt;/span&gt;, I know it's not &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;any body's&lt;/span&gt; life I know.  Yet, I have hope.  Remember I'm a Romantic and I always hope for the best possible outcome.  So, the walk starts.  Kinda.  The first stroller chosen is to small for my husband to walk with (he's constantly walking on the wheels).  So, he goes back to the garage to get the double jogging stroller.   10 minutes later after pumping up all the wheels on the stroller he emerges from the garage.  Rose in the meantime has been doing figure eights on her bike in the pool parking lot as I let the dog smell everything.  So the walk officially begins.  I won't bore everyone with the details, but just hit the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;highlights&lt;/span&gt;.  Rose, God bless her, really does a pretty good job listening and trying to stay a safe distance to us, but we honestly spend the entire time watching her stretch the boundaries.  Lily stays in the stroller about a 1/4 of the time and then tries chasing after Rose the rest.  Which left my husband walking the empty stroller.  (So glad we pumped up the tires.)  Our dog, which is just a little welsh terrier, thinks she is the biggest dog in the neighborhood pulls my arm out of socket each time we pass a dog.  Yes, she's thinks she the Alpha. &lt;br /&gt;     By the time the walk ends it in no way resembled my initial idea.  Of course they never do.  What I can say is we'll try the walk again on the next sunny Sunday and pray for a better outcome.  The one thing about life is that it's never the ideal, romantic fantasy I imagine; it's the beautiful struggles that make us who we are and more importantly the family that we are.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-228370969022256734?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/228370969022256734/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=228370969022256734' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/228370969022256734'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/228370969022256734'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2008/04/family-walks.html' title='Family Walks'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-68091947017852409</id><published>2008-04-27T11:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-27T11:41:26.282-07:00</updated><title type='text'>blog worthy</title><content type='html'>Comments from my girls...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Lily, I'm glad your my sister." -Rose&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Look mommy!  The flowers are blooming."  -Lily's first words to me this morning.&lt;br /&gt;(And yes, my rhododendron got it's first bloom.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ending scene of Big Mama's House has a church chorus and congregation doing some serious singing and dancing.  This was my conversation with Rose. "Mommy what kind of church is that?"  "Well, Rose I'm going to guess that it is a Baptist church."  "Oh, Mom those Baptist look like they are having a fun time.  Can we be Baptist?" "Go ask you Dad."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's disgusting....." - Lily referring to the cat vomit I was cleaning up on the floor.  "Why Lily, are you going to eat it?" -Rose&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I ate a lollipop once when I was kid." -Lily&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-68091947017852409?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/68091947017852409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=68091947017852409' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/68091947017852409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/68091947017852409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2008/04/blog-worthy.html' title='blog worthy'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5366223642958405977.post-4512446524574577598</id><published>2008-04-22T07:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-22T08:03:27.528-07:00</updated><title type='text'>First Blog</title><content type='html'>Well, after reading a blog of my friend's wife she has inspired me to start my own little blog.  I guess primarily this blog is for my family and friends that I don't get to see on a regular basis.  Since our entire family is at least 6 hours away hopefully this will be a way for them to know about the little things that happen to us on a daily basis....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There won't be poetry or world renowned writing (in fact be prepared for poor spelling and bad grammar), but my goal is to share our fun, zany, and bad days!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And on to uncharted territory.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5366223642958405977-4512446524574577598?l=wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/feeds/4512446524574577598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5366223642958405977&amp;postID=4512446524574577598' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/4512446524574577598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5366223642958405977/posts/default/4512446524574577598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://wherethegirlsare3.blogspot.com/2008/04/first-blog.html' title='First Blog'/><author><name>Our Time</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02732911946093208507</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
