tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-39839071723847386632024-03-04T23:47:06.999-07:00Megan & Ben SmithUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger156125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3983907172384738663.post-4735143286353042692012-12-21T23:49:00.002-07:002012-12-21T23:49:49.395-07:00Ranting and Raving about Pants. It really is the end of the world.<h2 class="entry-title">
<br /><span class="entry-icons-placeholder"></span></h2>
I
know I never blog, and I think I'm going to start being better about
that. No promises though. :) After this, you may never want to read my
blog again so it's a win-win. <br />
<br />
I decided to write a little post
about something that I saw online and I just needed to rant about it for
a little bit. So here goes, you are welcome to agree or disagree.<br />
<br />
A
few weeks back I saw on Facebook this thing calling all Mormon women to
wear pants to church. I thought that it was silly that this was an
"event" and just ignored all of my friends "liking" this page or event.
Then someone I know posted an article by the New York times about this
"movement" of Mormon women.<br />
<br />
The article said a few things that annoyed me, so here is a list of them and my PERSONAL point of view on them.<br />
<br />
Quote from the Article: <br />
"Though
the Mormon Church has no official policy against women wearing pants
to church, many say they feel peer pressure to wear a dress,
particularly in the Western United States, organizers said."<br />
<br />
My Opinion: <br />
This
is an honest question, "Who is pressuring you?" Is it other women? I
certainly have never felt pressure from men to wear a dress. But I grew
up in a family where I was told to wear my very best. As a child, I did
not have dressy pants. So I wore a skirt. This "tradition" so to speak,
continued on into my adulthood.<br />
<br />
Quote from the Article: <br />
"Others said they could not participate because they were fearful of ridicule or reprimand."<br />
<br />
My Opinion: <br />
A
few things here. Yes, there are probably women who would judge you for
wearing pants to church. My thought is, "Who cares?" If someone is going
to judge you based on what you are wearing, let them. It's their
problem. Also, if you are afraid of ridicule or reprimand from someone,
educate yourself on the doctrine so if they say something to you, you
can correct them. Hopefully you can do so in a kind, loving, manner.
Maybe this would teach this person something about judging others. One
could hope.<br />
<br />
Quote from the Article: <br />
"Organizers hope the
dialogue will now expand to include issues like the ordination of
women, or women taking on more responsibilities at church events."<br />
<br />
My Opinion:<br />
This
just bugs the crap out of me. It's not going to happen. And honestly, I
don't know why you would want it. It is a HUGE responsibility to have.
I've got enough on my plate, what with being responsible for the care
and well-being of raising my children in the Gospel. Plus, there must be
balance in a marriage. God made man and woman equal yes, but not the
same. Why do we get so caught up in thinking the word equal means
exactly the same. That is not it. Eve was created as a partner for Adam.
I find that the best thing about my marriage is that my failings are
his strengths and vise-versea. How horrible would it be to have the same
weaknesses? Men have the power and responsibility of bearing the
Priesthood. Women have the power and responsibility of bearing children.
This BALANCES the relationship. That's my thought anyway. And MORE
responsibilities at church events. We plan, decorate, participate, and
you want MORE? Three words: No Thank You. <br />
<br />
Quote from the Article:<br />
"Julie
Tuovi Baker Hansen, a lawyer in Burbank, Calif., who participated
while visiting a Salt Lake City suburb, said she was surprised to see a
man raise his hand and say, “Women who want to wear pants, they just
don’t know how to follow the Lord.”"<br />
<br />
My Opinion:<br />
This man is an idiot. They are everywhere. Not just in the Mormon church.<br />
<br />
Quote from the Article:<br />
"They
also cited the pronounced role of the Boy Scouts in the church — boys
routinely become troop leaders in the organization, but girls have no
similar outlet with the Girl Scouts<u>"</u><br />
My Opinion: <br />
My
Mother is the Cub Master for the Boy Scouts, and most of the leaders in
our Troop are Women in fact. I'm not sure why there isn't Girl Scouts.
Personally, I didn't ever really care. I was involved with GS for about a
year (I think). Wasn't for me. Glad the church wasn't involved because
then my parents didn't make me go. :) <br />
<br />
Basically, the thing
that irks me about this article is not the fact that women wore pants to
church. I could really care less actually. I would prefer pants to some
of the too short of skirts that I see walking around. But hey, there I
am being judgmental. What really ticks me off is that this article is
being used as "proof" that Mormon men are sexist jerks and that Mormon
women are submissive, feeble women, who have no control or say in
anything. I just think, "ARE YOU FREAKING KIDDING ME?" Have any of you
met my mother? Or most of the Mormon Women I know? They are the most
opinionated, strong, aggressive, powerful, wonderful, smart, educated,
and forward thinking women I have ever met in my life. Also, their
husbands tend to be some of the kindest, supportive, respectful,
loving, and just all-out freaking AMAZING men. <br />
<br />
Now, do sexist
people exist in the church? Do we all make judgements of people that are
uncalled for and just plain stupid? Of course. We are everywhere. So
please, if you want to wear pants to church, wear them. If you expect me
to high-five you for doing so, sorry, not going to. Just like I won't
high-five you for wearing a skirt. I honestly don't care what you wear.
It's all about why. Why are you wearing a skirt/pants? Is it out of
reverence and/or respect to the Savior or to try and push boundaries?
Personally, I wear pants pretty much 24-6, and I enjoy the opportunity
to dress up and wear a skirt. I like it. So I'm gonna keep doing it.
Please don't think that I am anti-feminist because I don't want to wear
pants to church. Or do. Again, I don't really care.<br />
<br />
**Sorry if this offended anyone. It wasn't meant in anger or spite. Just a crazy person's opinion.**Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3983907172384738663.post-56040645805383795352012-03-07T17:00:00.004-07:002012-03-07T18:21:43.654-07:00The Birth StoryAria is laying peacefully right now, so I'm going to try and get this out. Spoiler alert, some of the information below may be a little graphic and detailed. So be forewarned!<br /><br />I woke up on Tuesday morning about 7:00 a.m. I had a little pain in my abdomen. I laid there for a while, and at 7:30 I nudged Ben and said, I think I'm having contractions. I haven't had much braxton hicks or anything during my pregnancy, so I wasn't quite sure. I called my mother, who didn't have her phone on her, and then called my sister. She confirmed that what I was experiencing was, in fact, contractions. Mom eventually made her way over, and we discussed that they were about 15 minutes apart. I decided to get up and move, shower and then go over to my Mom's house where they were working on the basement.<br /><br />The contractions stopped. I was pretty bummed. All the rest of the day, I would have one every now and then, but I thought, "This baby isn't coming tonight" Mom and I went for a long walk around the block. The contractions picked back up to around 10-13 minutes apart again. They weren't really painful, just a little uncomfortable.<br /><br />It was my two nephew's last basketball games of the season at Central, so I decided to go down and watch them. They were playing a big rival, Newport. I sat and watched both the Freshman and JV games, keeping track of my contractions. They were five minutes apart. Then I started watching the Varsity Game. They were still 5 minutes apart and getting a little stronger. This had been going on for about three hours now. Mom, LeAnne, and Michelle all suggested that I go into the hospital and see how dilated I was. So I drove home, got Ben and we drove to the hospital. The contractions suddenly escalated in pain as we drove there.<br /><br />We checked in at 9 and a nurse checked me. Dilated to a 1 1/2. I just sighed, "Seriously?" I was at a one last week. So she said that we'd chill for an hour and see if I progressed. I didn't. She said they were discharging me and sending me home. I kind of freaked out. At this point, the contractions were making me double over in pain, and my back felt like it was being broken in two. The nurse saw me have a contraction and suggested I get into one of their tubs and see if I progressed any. She believed the baby was facing the wrong way, which would explain the back labor, and me not progressing. So I gave it a shot. An hour later I was dilated to a 3, and admitted to the hospital. We called Mom. This was at around 12:30 in the morning.<br /><br />Mom and Melissa arrived at the hospital at around 1 am and I got the epidural at 1:30. Let me tell you, that was the easiest thing ever. They placed the epidural when I was having a contraction, and I was so focused on breathing through the pain, that I didn't even feel it. When they put the IV in my arm, that hurt more. Basically it was the BEST.DECISION.EVER. I was able to move my legs on my own, wiggle my toes and basically move as much as I wanted. It was wonderful. At this point I was dilated to a 4.<br /><br />An hour later the nurse told us that I was at a 9. Mom quickly called my sister LeAnne and told her to pick up Dad. We were certain that baby would be here with in the hour. Even though my water hadn't broken yet.<br /><br />For some reason, they wouldn't call the on call doctor in to break my water. We later learned they just didn't want to wake him. Lame. My doctor finally came in for her rotation at around 8 and broke my water. That was when we found out that the baby had a bowel movement while still inside, which meant that she could possible ingest it into her lungs. The Doctor said that there would be a team of people in the room ready to take her and suction her lungs out if need be. Basically, if she came out and breathed/cried on her own, no problem. But if they had to stimulate her, they would have to suction. I freaked just a little. Michelle arrived around this point.<br /><br />They started to have me push. But quickly realized that when I did, the baby's heart rate dropped dramatically. They were now worried that the cord was wrapped around her neck. So they decided to let her descend as far down on her own with out me pushing as possible.<br /><br />A few hours later, we finally got ready to push again, but the girl next door had an emergency C-Section. My doctor was worried that if I wasn't able to get the baby out quickly enough, we'd have to have a C-Section too, so she didn't want the room tied up. So we waited. Again. She explained to me that she only wanted the baby to go through the stress of pushing for a limited time since it was affecting her heart rate so servery, and made it very clear to me that getting her out quickly was the priority.<br /><br />Finally, at 11:40, she said it was time to push. 7 minutes later, my baby girl was here. Screaming with all the force she could muster!<br /><br /><span style="font-size:180%;">Now here comes the TMI part so skip if you don't want to know. </span><br /><br />*<br />*<br />*<br />Apparently, because I had to get her out so quickly, and was able to, not only did I tear, but I tore up and to the side. The right labia nearly ripped completely off. Three additional doctors had to be brought in to repair me. My doctor said that I was lucky that I had the epidural because they were able to repair me right then and there while I held the baby instead of rushing me off to an OR. She also said that if I hadn't been able to get her out that quickly, I would've had a C-section for sure. So there are some things to be grateful for there, even though it has made my body's recovery a little more... intense. :)<br />*<br />*<br />*<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" >Ok, you can read now if you skipped before! </span><br /><br />Little did we realize that not only did the baby poop while in the womb, but she actually pooped all over me while I was holding her and they were working on me. Nice. They finally got me and her all cleaned up, and Ben and I decided on naming her. We both had gotten down to two names independently: Aria and Isabella. I asked if he was leaning toward one. He said he was leaning toward Aria. I agreed. My sister Michelle then suggested naming her Aria Isabella. Ben and I really liked that. Not only did it have a nice ring to it, but we decided that as she grew, if Aria didn't quite suit her, we could call her by her middle name. It was a win win for everyone involved.<br /><br />Giving birth was something I will not soon forget. I loved having my husband there to support me and hold me while I was in pain and then again while I was trying to get our baby girl here. I was so grateful for my Mom and Sisters that were there to talk and keep me company as we waited and waited. I only got frustrated that they were drinking Dt. Pepsi and I couldn't have one! :)<br /><br />I'll blog more about the hospital experience and what has been the most trying part of being a mom later, but there is the birth story of our beautiful Aria Isabella Smith. Born on her due date 2/22/12. She's quite perfect.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3983907172384738663.post-24639711792990045372012-02-07T11:33:00.003-07:002012-02-07T11:54:58.890-07:00It's almost over! Yay?Let's get one thing clear: I'm glad and grateful that I'm pregnant.<div><br /></div><div>Let's get another thing clear: being pregnant is hard. </div><div><br /></div><div>I'm reaching the end of my pregnancy and as terrified as I am of actually having a baby, I'm getting quite anxious to to get this baby out of me. Coincidence? I think not.</div><div><br /></div><div>Child birth is a scary thing for me. I've always been scared of it (thank you BYU Human Development class video). I don't need to tell anyone that knows me that I have quite the imagination. And I've thought about all the things that can go wrong. Yes I know it's unhealthy, but I do. </div><div><br /></div><div>I think of Ben's childhood friend Gabe and his wife and how she almost died because of some disease they knew nothing about. I think of my sister's friend who's heart beat stopped as she was sitting talking to her husband in the hospital. And all the improbable things that could happen.</div><div><br /></div><div>Then there is all the things that could be wrong with the baby. My whole pregnancy I've been obsessed with her movements and stats. I won't go into all the horrific things I've thought about, but needless to say, I want her here so I can count all the fingers and toes. </div><div><br /></div><div>I think that you get so uncomfortable these last few weeks so that you practically scream, "get out of me!" and are willing to undergo the potential pain/terror/joy that the call child birth. </div><div><br /></div><div>I'm am most excited to see her, hold her, smell her, and figure out her name! But here are a few other things that I'm excited about NOT being pregnant any more: </div><div><br /></div><div>1. Heartburn. Yeah that sucks! It's constant and you get mild relief. Ben is actually grateful that ice had this experience cause he's always had bad heartburn in our marriage, and he never thought I could sympathize. Now I can. </div><div><br /></div><div>2. The belly. I actually love my belly. I love knowing my baby is in there, and that I can eat and not worry about having a belly. But I am looking forward to not having to hold it when I roll over, or get out of bed. The pain it causes because it stretches the sides and feels like its bruised. Kicking my ribs like they're a zilaphone or pushing on my bladder...</div><div><br /></div><div>3. Sickness. I've had nausea my whole pregnancy. Second trimester more that others, but I can't wait to enjoy food again.</div><div><br /></div><div>4. Not having to eat 24/7. It's rather annoying. :) </div><div><br /></div><div>5. Sleeping on my stomach. Ahhh.... That would be wonderful.</div><div><br /></div><div>6. Most of all, I'm looking forward to getting her here, safe and sound. </div><div><br /></div><div>2 weeks left.... Yikes! </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3983907172384738663.post-62709899987717382162012-01-18T12:04:00.002-07:002012-01-18T12:19:11.502-07:00First Surprise of 2012Life is full of unexpected changes.<br /><br />I have been dreading writing this post for a week, not sure how much I was wanting to share. But I figure only our friends and family read this, so... here goes.<br /><br />Last Wednesday Ben and I received some bad news. Due to details that I am not going to go into, Ben lost his job. It obviously came as a shock to the both of us, and the timing could not be worse. Baby girl is due Feb 20-ish and our insurance is now canceled at the end of January. Like I said, great timing.<br /><br />There isn't a whole lot more to say other than Ben and I are doing fine. Sometimes it is hard to wrap our minds around how quickly our life is changing, and not only due to the fact that we are about to have a baby.<br /><br />On the flip side, we still feel incredibly blessed. We feel that this is a blessing in disguise and will eventually work out to our benefit. We live amongst a wonderful support system of family and friends and know that no matter what happens, we will be taken care of. And above all else, we have each other, and our baby is healthy. I keep thinking that things could be worse, and then silently beg the Lord not to prove me right. :)<br /><br />For those of you who are already aware of our situation, we are thankful for the support and love that you have already given us. We are truly blessed by the love of our friends, family and the Lord.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3983907172384738663.post-44352820070630844492012-01-09T12:19:00.003-07:002012-01-09T12:27:23.975-07:00Some Fun Photos<div style="text-align: center;">So Ben and I are selling our coffee and side tables (cause I bought new ones) and I had to download them from Ben's phone. Apparently he hadn't downloaded his photos in a while and there were some that I thought I would share. :) These are from this last year.<br /><br />This dog often thinks that she is our baby... So we thought we'd see if it would work out.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3Y0hyphenhyphenvGzqHkK2bSkkAk-tkZQcnQvVS62tuMm9dB0H8ZMsrK4W1VFidcoDszH5xtyeU88o4rVh82DG0UyyEx3T2J9zECUuctPtvY2DCpN-soBbrRc0WXQ_wiba2yzq3o3vL_ZnMAmuwjk/s1600/IMG_0169.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 298px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3Y0hyphenhyphenvGzqHkK2bSkkAk-tkZQcnQvVS62tuMm9dB0H8ZMsrK4W1VFidcoDszH5xtyeU88o4rVh82DG0UyyEx3T2J9zECUuctPtvY2DCpN-soBbrRc0WXQ_wiba2yzq3o3vL_ZnMAmuwjk/s400/IMG_0169.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5695714930436472642" border="0" /></a><br />We were pretty sure Miley would get run over trying to jog next to the bike, so we strapped her in.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnNpaaNFf2KUhpcgNUJNE9CLcxcfthWwIoFzcEJwxg6fcNgkwyiB848fnrbLADk4J6JqMQ6G-qV5gcgq4r84xNSLGfg6ejdtx0Kmt-ysMgsS-YtY6r6CmWar3CnxVjiwXPO6q1F1JWY0Q/s1600/IMG_0164.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnNpaaNFf2KUhpcgNUJNE9CLcxcfthWwIoFzcEJwxg6fcNgkwyiB848fnrbLADk4J6JqMQ6G-qV5gcgq4r84xNSLGfg6ejdtx0Kmt-ysMgsS-YtY6r6CmWar3CnxVjiwXPO6q1F1JWY0Q/s400/IMG_0164.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5695714924543928386" border="0" /></a><br />The first thing we bought when we found out we were pregnant. :) We saw a little girl in Costco curled up with it just like this and said, YUP, we're buying it. Ironically we are having a little girl!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHT_xOuHQGY2U2wjNQvlwaEjlDoYWdjzlw7AzAxy5v73z9vzoH829HoW4jeNJJipb1RnaVfuFBxMfCAH1Ug7hFNnhB4NioB1o33lCnULxkUvkoeZ5yi9t1e9pRTWmn7xkcbVM0mylzaFU/s1600/IMG_0155.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHT_xOuHQGY2U2wjNQvlwaEjlDoYWdjzlw7AzAxy5v73z9vzoH829HoW4jeNJJipb1RnaVfuFBxMfCAH1Ug7hFNnhB4NioB1o33lCnULxkUvkoeZ5yi9t1e9pRTWmn7xkcbVM0mylzaFU/s400/IMG_0155.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5695714920206994642" border="0" /></a><br />Got our dogs drunk on pizza, ranch and Dt. Pepsi...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1uZU5EVPbP8oMKiQ9OS4-u40XkhgK8cNfH_5F9w-gie9fYklbAC3wTUuwPWQ1NfckIOPkUdv4oWnDpFeruf7RNjHIwUBy3Ul2_UIVZcaCSvsvnxSy4JePYPoSi2A-8Hn-f5WGkVQPvPU/s1600/IMG_0144.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1uZU5EVPbP8oMKiQ9OS4-u40XkhgK8cNfH_5F9w-gie9fYklbAC3wTUuwPWQ1NfckIOPkUdv4oWnDpFeruf7RNjHIwUBy3Ul2_UIVZcaCSvsvnxSy4JePYPoSi2A-8Hn-f5WGkVQPvPU/s400/IMG_0144.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5695714907516153874" border="0" /></a><br />I keep feeling sorry for them about how their life is going to change. Someone else will be curled up with their Daddy... so sad.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRQ8cc6LKHiLqX_GUv4TbRAe8cA2I984gsqZ_2nfXImqRgHUSuYAoE05IBBojSGnYlrOh23l3Y79uqAUgoNx0KzkE5grCWi8WZpTFlPn4dC1FVHvgzITQmetEIWG8imf63Fv36ujPIpfk/s1600/IMG_0125.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRQ8cc6LKHiLqX_GUv4TbRAe8cA2I984gsqZ_2nfXImqRgHUSuYAoE05IBBojSGnYlrOh23l3Y79uqAUgoNx0KzkE5grCWi8WZpTFlPn4dC1FVHvgzITQmetEIWG8imf63Fv36ujPIpfk/s400/IMG_0125.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5695714898051242146" border="0" /></a>Just some fun photos. Eventually I'll post the photos of the house and what it looked like when we bought it andwhat it ended up being. The outside and the inside have totally changed. I love it!<br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3983907172384738663.post-64054477444152828242012-01-03T23:05:00.002-07:002012-01-03T23:29:49.366-07:00What's occupying my mind of late...4 things: baby, baby, baby and oh yeah, did I mention THE BABY! That's pretty much what has been occupying every waking thought, and even the dreams. I read something on my baby app that perfectly describes what I'm feeling right now. Let me share it with you...<div><br /><div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div></div><br /><br />" third-trimester insomnia strikes more than 75% of expectant moms. Very tired expectant moms. The hormonal changes, the midnight treks to the bathroom, the leg cramps, the heartburn that won't quit, the fact that you can't get comfortable when you're in bed with a watermelon where you're tummy used to be, and the anxiety you're likely feeling about the impending birth of your baby (and the fact that you haven't decided on a name for your baby) all contribute to your inability to catch some z's"<br /><br />Yup. Spot on. <br /><br />Let's dissect a little. <br /><br />1. Hormonal changes: I've actually been pretty good. Or at least Ben says so... And he would tell me. But I cried every time I watched the ending of White Christmas this year. Every time. Ugh. <br /><br />2. Bathroom trips. I'd actually be okay going to the bathroom multiple times a night if I actually had to pee. But the fact that it's not very much and I feel like I'm going to burst.. Really ticks me off at 3, and 4 and 5 in the morning. <br /><br />3. Leg cramps: more like butt cramps. I have a bad sciatic and it feeds this one nerve in my butt cheek. If I turn to lay on the right side, it gets mad. I have Ben try and rub it out for me. Trust me, our husband rubbing your butt, not as sexy as youd think it to be. <br /><br />4. Heartburn. Ben has always had bad heartburn and takes prescription mess for it. I never truly appreciated it. Now I do. Poor Ben. I love him. <br /><br />5. Getting comfortable in bed: if you're a stomach sleeping like I am, switch now to your side. It'll save you A LOT of issues when your pregnant and can't sleep on your belly. Can't wait for that to be a possibility again. The extra weight on my hips makes them hurt but I basically have no other option. Oddly, snuggling with Ben helps me sleep. Again, I love him. <br /><br />6. Anxiety about the birth. Yup. I'm nervous. I watched Melissa do it, no problem. But still... I worry about the epidural needle, the pain, the tearing, something being wrong with the baby and Ben being gone. He is traveling early Feb to Utah... Makes me nervous. <br /><br />7. The baby name: We're having trouble. Here are a few we are thinking of: Ainsley, Aria, Harper, Avery, Fiona, Isabella. Feel free to Wei in, just heed the last blog post: be tactful if you don't like a name. Or better yet, just tell me the ones that you like. <br /><br />So yeah, that's what I've been thinking about. But on a more positive note, I'm very excited. I'm excited to hold her, to see who she looks like, see Ben with her, watch her grow, smile, crawl, laugh, talk... All those things. I love her so much already and I'm so excited to see that Compound and grow even more. I'm excited to have her grow up with her cousins Kalli and Lily and LeAnne's little boy who is coming soon after. I'm excited to see how motherhood changes me, and Ben. I'm excited for the most challenging and rewarding adventure that we've ever had! See, getting emotional. Dang hormones. :) <br /><br />Basically, I'm scared silly but excited. Isn't that the way it's supposed to be?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3983907172384738663.post-7604090948682745112011-12-29T13:01:00.007-07:002011-12-29T13:51:20.415-07:00I'm a bad blogger<div style="text-align: center;">Okay, so I know that I haven't blogged in a LONG time. Shame on me. But in all fairness, I've lost my camera cord, so I don't have any pictures of things that I've been wanting to blog about. (i.e Brigadoon ect) So all the pictures that I do have are from my phone. Sorry for the quality.<br /><br />But here is an update on life in general right now. Beware... it's long.<br /><br />Stay at Home Wife.<br />In November I stopped working at my job at Saber Transportation. It is the slow season right now for trucking and they wanted to get my replacement in and trained before it was so busy that it would completely overwhelm her.<br /><br />Cheer leading<br />As many of you know I am one of the Cheer coaches at the local High School. Working with High Schoolers I'm used to, but 20+ girls, just girls, man DRAMA. Our football team went into playoffs which extended the season that much longer. Needless to say, we were all ready to be done when the boys lost in the semi-finals. I love those girls, but sometimes I just wanted to tell them to shut the heck up and stop complaining. Sometimes I did. :)<br />Here is two photos of them after we won and were going on the semi finals.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8i0utcifphG0iR6KLNT0XANewp4zGAJPp-kj5KR3sqYABQPJvzCj5X57fK3LGAJ1BmZNCPG6N8KTZ4pfG871A26-Kd7xvxc_jFQcpN14cPfG817xr2nttyxCYmi-gzKUPXZdqv-CR9uA/s1600/IMG_0919.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8i0utcifphG0iR6KLNT0XANewp4zGAJPp-kj5KR3sqYABQPJvzCj5X57fK3LGAJ1BmZNCPG6N8KTZ4pfG871A26-Kd7xvxc_jFQcpN14cPfG817xr2nttyxCYmi-gzKUPXZdqv-CR9uA/s400/IMG_0919.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5691652652584925458" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKQivGzpkVbGzS4JwVrCSbqocvhfDuFnlAWpUv4X9qGgEbMTIhexa4jMsUZWRih6khys2SyZCLZPOOaBBVu97O3rkE56ZGXgq__HYuwTZdxAM7DWw-Qwh2c4_23ETlue3ykMKpnPM9lg0/s1600/IMG_0918.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKQivGzpkVbGzS4JwVrCSbqocvhfDuFnlAWpUv4X9qGgEbMTIhexa4jMsUZWRih6khys2SyZCLZPOOaBBVu97O3rkE56ZGXgq__HYuwTZdxAM7DWw-Qwh2c4_23ETlue3ykMKpnPM9lg0/s400/IMG_0918.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5691652648250306290" border="0" /></a><br /><br />CLEANING!!<br />It has been nice not working but oh man, how much work I do at home. I cook, clean, mop and organize all the time. The first week I was home, I went a little crazy and over did it. I paid for that later. But it has been nice to actually move into the house. When we bought in May we moved in superficially and then suddenly I was pregnant, sick, working and do the show. Needless to say I didn't feel much like figuring out where to put the extra towels that we never use. But now that is the challenge. Every now and then when I organize a part of the house, I get so happy and I love it. I actually love my laundry room cause it's so organized.<br /><br />Decorating<br />I am also decorating the house. We have much more space and I wanted to lighten up the look we had going on. My condo in Utah was very dark and Red, so we're adding some light tables and rugs and this beautiful blue color to brighten up the place. So far I love it.<br />This is the material for our curtain panels<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp-PQ7xWnfj7ZN0PfWLfXcJV-1Aole4d97gSzZO57j7kKTodHB4TE45RYLjCiqvyfPaYdZEFO0QZa34I4uGeDpUTYvzVnVoTG2axwWJRG8LnvLTP33jezS1IA2N9xr-PlkUGFyQTKuKi0/s1600/IMG_0902.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp-PQ7xWnfj7ZN0PfWLfXcJV-1Aole4d97gSzZO57j7kKTodHB4TE45RYLjCiqvyfPaYdZEFO0QZa34I4uGeDpUTYvzVnVoTG2axwWJRG8LnvLTP33jezS1IA2N9xr-PlkUGFyQTKuKi0/s400/IMG_0902.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5691650005110957586" border="0" /></a><br />The nursery... well, it's not done, or even started, but I'm not too worried about it. She won't be using it for a while, and lets be honest, she won't care if I paint it before she's born or when she's one. So, for now, we've got the crib and bedding set up and that's good enough for now.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQXf_Dmkov-gFcexnE2jp4WTRICvsQW4b0b2YDb81W-mY9wJgCObFYeUHeHbCAEXctiZDD8fNw7K0gQ7SokuMVuejRT1mCqaAq3qzgs0hnHbxKACyL8EFA57up_eoron5xh4anAKXpZbw/s1600/IMG_0970.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQXf_Dmkov-gFcexnE2jp4WTRICvsQW4b0b2YDb81W-mY9wJgCObFYeUHeHbCAEXctiZDD8fNw7K0gQ7SokuMVuejRT1mCqaAq3qzgs0hnHbxKACyL8EFA57up_eoron5xh4anAKXpZbw/s400/IMG_0970.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5691650511887515698" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Kalli<br />I also get to spend more time with this little monkey. I love her so much. I watch her for Melissa sometimes when she has to go to meetings for work, or just go over and visit. Just look at these pictures and you'll see why I just adore her.<br /><br />In front of the Christmas tree<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWtiIYWAqbYhtrKAHYNmqgt-XKhf7CYa-2rcSsHmjTz3UE-rAsyyETWafP2k9LMyPAgmaQwl55xNaaMycWQQb7aOKnPTIhgttiygqVW_PNJFHD-cp1BQmnB7HDT8UTLX_3ivyJekVNCZQ/s1600/IMG_0991.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 298px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWtiIYWAqbYhtrKAHYNmqgt-XKhf7CYa-2rcSsHmjTz3UE-rAsyyETWafP2k9LMyPAgmaQwl55xNaaMycWQQb7aOKnPTIhgttiygqVW_PNJFHD-cp1BQmnB7HDT8UTLX_3ivyJekVNCZQ/s400/IMG_0991.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5691653510791757842" border="0" /></a><br />She was supposed to go down for at least an hour. She was asleep for 30 min. I was making the bed, this is the look I got. Makes me laugh. Little stinker.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwfarHSP9HsMa5ZuN0vS_uvo1idpiuU4q1Ck6M5tNXyBrJ4en1Z_dpAaCpPEfONsILY7Ou9a74380cjPE3lYs3cR-D6to3zx0R0z4SEbCibDfNoWhGnVSZsTPf3OWJRZlNtQrLeh9B7i0/s1600/IMG_0986.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 298px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwfarHSP9HsMa5ZuN0vS_uvo1idpiuU4q1Ck6M5tNXyBrJ4en1Z_dpAaCpPEfONsILY7Ou9a74380cjPE3lYs3cR-D6to3zx0R0z4SEbCibDfNoWhGnVSZsTPf3OWJRZlNtQrLeh9B7i0/s400/IMG_0986.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5691653507620777298" border="0" /></a><br />Playing with Sadie on the bed. She was still working on sitting up, so the bed was nice so she didn't hurt herself when she fell over. It's also good for Sadie to learn if she goes near a baby, she will grab you and if you snap at her, you get BEAT. So hopefully she learns just to stay away from the baby.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieDF1Z5S-MvpW0Lx8Nflzdzvd3jaCLotdKI6G4YIJ2gzmDVB2kArU4OYhGLiXvf8JqVMwsi_eKhhk0rGgQvba7UZOIo1bU8e_SGpY_GdhgLXEaEy2OhIluzl0qHl4NEZltl2ldYUoQM_w/s1600/IMG_0985.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieDF1Z5S-MvpW0Lx8Nflzdzvd3jaCLotdKI6G4YIJ2gzmDVB2kArU4OYhGLiXvf8JqVMwsi_eKhhk0rGgQvba7UZOIo1bU8e_SGpY_GdhgLXEaEy2OhIluzl0qHl4NEZltl2ldYUoQM_w/s400/IMG_0985.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5691653495561123362" border="0" /></a><br />She was supposed to be going to sleep, but she kept smiling at me. Stinker.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9jnbAHW9f_Ao7-VL18KToedloMh7fq8i7t2QqdMqzHTBNl_WTeu21-r4BGclre2Ug0f8TagHh3OTBFZFpkSaIg8A-pgdQE2ajwfSlJe8faRmC2NcodDIwT_4yB_1pGZM3sPO0GEILOIA/s1600/IMG_0962.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 298px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9jnbAHW9f_Ao7-VL18KToedloMh7fq8i7t2QqdMqzHTBNl_WTeu21-r4BGclre2Ug0f8TagHh3OTBFZFpkSaIg8A-pgdQE2ajwfSlJe8faRmC2NcodDIwT_4yB_1pGZM3sPO0GEILOIA/s400/IMG_0962.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5691653492001390738" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Pregnancy Stuff<br />Names. No one tells you how much pressure naming a human being can be. We have such a common last name, that we wanted something a little different than 'Jane'. But we're having a difficult time. So far the names that we like are Isabella, Avery, Fiona. We'll see what she looks like and what we feel is the right name for her. Being in the family I am, they are not shy about their opinions. Sometimes that is nice, but all I ask is if you don't like a name, TACTFULLY say that you don't like it. Don't just down right say, "Oh that is terrible! Why would you name your child that?" Cause knowing me, I'm going to name her that just to tick you off now. Yes, not a valid reason to name a child, but at least I know myself well enough to know that I would do it.<br /><br />I hate insurance by the way. I think that it sucks. That's all I've got to say on the matter really. But there is a reason that I refuse to go see the doctor at all costs because they charge you $400 to draw some blood. Stupid.<br /><br />The Belly.<br />No one prepares you, or really can, for how huge you feel. I look at old photos and think, "Man, I was so stupid to think I was big then" It feels like I've got this weight on the front of my body, constantly pulling me down. You can imagine how lovely that feels on my back. You never realize how much you use your abs until you can't use them anymore. The weirdest feeling I've had of late is when she is stretching and both sides of my belly go out. It's not a swift kick or a ripple. Just a stretching of the sides. I keep thinking that she's trying to claw her way out of me. I never should have read twilight. :) Every time she kicks me I say in my mind, "Good Girl" cause that means she's doing just fine.<br /><br />I haven't gained much weight, about 12-15 pounds. I love, and I mean LOVE maternity jeans. Why I procrastinated buying those for as long as I did... stupid. They are so so comfy, I may never go back. :)<br /><br />Feeling HUGE!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdRFsav1Zuyu1hakSEttORB9Fb6wGFq3698aWzcn3MjRjRxlG579WA78l_sUVFacUOdw-1LAyX5pZPhAOlB6UjIj2HNUdfSE0Ork2kPELGCLEy6H9l56SYLR1G4fPf61zEOaNuU0tB3gI/s1600/IMG_1003.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 298px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdRFsav1Zuyu1hakSEttORB9Fb6wGFq3698aWzcn3MjRjRxlG579WA78l_sUVFacUOdw-1LAyX5pZPhAOlB6UjIj2HNUdfSE0Ork2kPELGCLEy6H9l56SYLR1G4fPf61zEOaNuU0tB3gI/s400/IMG_1003.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5691651297598435922" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I have also decided that people just need to shut it when it comes to commenting on your pregnancy. "Oh you're carrying low, it's a boy" "You're carrying high, it's a girl" or "You're so tiny, I bet she's petite" "She's going to be big, look at that belly" "Oh you think you're big now, just wait" or my favorite, "It gets worse"<br /><br />Seriously, everyone thinks something different. I'm low, I'm high, I'm big, I'm small. The discomfort I'm feeling now doesn't matter cause it just gets worse. My response to most of those are, yeah well BITE ME.<br /><br />Throughout all of this Ben has been amazing. And that doesn't even cover it. When I was in my first and second trimester, I basically never had to cook or clean. He's been so supportive of me getting rest, taking it easy and just taking care of the baby. He nags me to eat more, but that's Ben's solution to everything. Food. :) I love him and am so excited to see him with our baby. He's going to be such a push over, it's funny.<br /><br />Well, that's all for now. I'll try and do better. :)<br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3983907172384738663.post-76256643612789107412011-08-08T14:08:00.003-06:002011-08-08T14:13:22.678-06:00Second Trimester StatsStats:
<br />
<br />Baby bump: Not really noticeable. If I eat a big meal then I look it, but since I've not been keeping anything down... normally it's not there.
<br />
<br />Clothes: Still wearing the same ones. Jeans, everything. We'll see how long that lasts, but for now, I'm grateful.
<br />
<br />Weight: Actually lower than when I got pregnant. By about ten pounds. Oops.
<br />
<br />Feeling: Well this weekend ushered in my second trimester and the worst feeling I've had my whole pregnancy. Let's just hope it is a bug and not a sign of things to come.
<br />
<br />Baby: We got to see the little stinker on Thursday. The baby was lounging, yes, I'm serious, LOUNGING in my belly. Arms up and behind it's head and ankles crossed. My baby is just cooling his/her little heels down there while mama is working hard. Can't say it didn't make me a little peeved. :)
<br />
<br />That's pretty much it. I will post baby bump pictures when there is a bump to show. :)
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3983907172384738663.post-53871754095687641492011-07-20T22:12:00.004-06:002011-07-20T22:31:40.289-06:00How we found out...<div style="text-align: center;">Be warned... this is mostly a wordy post. :)<br /><br />As Many of you know.... I'm Pregnant.<br /><br />As I look at that sentence, it kind of freaks me out a little bit. Since we kept it a secret for a little while, I will tell those of you who don't know, how we found out. :)<br /><br />I knew on my birthday (or thereabouts) that I was supposed to be starting my "time of the month" the odd thing is, before I even got there, I thought about pregnancy a lot that month. My sister Melissa had given birth, I watched (whoa!), and people kept bringing it up. And most of all, Ben and I bought and moved into our home. We were ready to start our family. We had been trying for a little over a year and a half. But it seemed like life was finally in agreement.<br /><br />So Tuesday the Seventh comes (my birthday is on the fifth for those of you who don't know)... and nothing. So I tell Ben I'm taking a pregnancy test. He's in the shower, watches me sit on the bathtub and just stare at it. It's a no. No biggie. I text my sisters who knew I was late. They're all sad. I'm just thinking, I'll take another one come Sunday.<br /><br />They all want me to do another one right away. I say no, I'm gonna wait.<br /><br />Sunday Morning rolls around... I get up, take the test. This time I can't stare at it. So I set it down, walk over to the bath tub, turn on my timer, and wait. Then I walk up to it and look down. All the while Ben is watching me from the bed.<br /><br />"Well?" he asks.<br /><br />I pick it up and walk over to him. At this point I'm in a state of shock. Later I think the term I used to Ben was, "a mind melt". It seemed to fit.<br /><br />"For the look on your face I'd guess it's a no." He says.<br /><br />I show him the test.<br /><br />(Actual Test I took Below)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjas0EX7IAXHdvnBpaohM4r9Dl1DAsqezZEwGUdEOpNCzJFpcILMWkJBr1LgUXkcqj_XW2ESFQzH3RmQij-Q_j7_SAwodKZGPm3TmrdkmOroSEadOEJDENOPa1D5go9y-acAJe0gSoGP0o/s1600/IMG_0745.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 298px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjas0EX7IAXHdvnBpaohM4r9Dl1DAsqezZEwGUdEOpNCzJFpcILMWkJBr1LgUXkcqj_XW2ESFQzH3RmQij-Q_j7_SAwodKZGPm3TmrdkmOroSEadOEJDENOPa1D5go9y-acAJe0gSoGP0o/s400/IMG_0745.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5631656829525661794" border="0" /></a><br /><br />"What do you think that means?" I say.<br /><br />He looks at it.<br /><br />"I think it means you're pregnant." Ben says looking at me.<br /><br />I stare at the test. "I think it does too."<br /><br />Then we just look at each other.<br /><br />I don't really remember what happened next. I know we didn't jump up and down for joy, we were both in too much shock for that to happen. It was kind of like; Okay... now what. Well, we had to get ready for church. So we did.<br /><br />I get to church, my sister Melissa asks me if I took a test, I told her I forgot. We decide to tell my parents first, then the family at dinner.<br /><br />We were all gathered around the kitchen/dining area waiting to pray, Amanda (my niece) and Michelle (her mom) are fighting. I say, "Well, to change the subject, I'm pregnant." Needless to say... that worked.<br /><br />Ben and I are very happy and nervous and sick and excited. I will post more fun stuff later, but I just wanted to get this out while I had the energy to write it. </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3983907172384738663.post-21762296260177237712011-07-14T13:25:00.014-06:002011-07-20T22:33:46.504-06:00Harry Potter and Me<div align="center">Let's get one thing clear: Yes, I know I'm a nerd. Deal with it people.<br /></div><div align="center">It's interesting with all the talk about a decade passing since the first Harry Potter movie, I started thinking about where I was for each of these movies coming out, and how my life has changed and progressed from each one. Kind of weird to mark your life by Harry Potter, but it's also kind of convienent that all of these movies come out every few years. Yes, I am a Harry Potter fan, and yes, Ben makes fun of me for it, but I thought I hadn't posted a blog in a while, and this might be kind of fun. </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">So here goes, my life/ memory at the time of each Harry Potter movie release.<br /></div><div align="center">Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone (2001)</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJKdKZ_ecKkzE_MbeamLv32e-fC7HNbKrWvukOrEOaX_fONVzKhbWLhOAg0LEbV026mkZPRnUUU82rGk-StAjrCT_MSIynPJDFZcWuHXxDxzqqIKoYjVmjouUHbg-lFZdLYrDiK-Pq6co/s1600/MV5BMTYwNTM5NDkzNV5BMl5BanBnXkFtZTYwODQ4MzY5._V1._SX345_SY475_%255B1%255D.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 291px; height: 400px; text-align: center; display: block; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5629302207596053394" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJKdKZ_ecKkzE_MbeamLv32e-fC7HNbKrWvukOrEOaX_fONVzKhbWLhOAg0LEbV026mkZPRnUUU82rGk-StAjrCT_MSIynPJDFZcWuHXxDxzqqIKoYjVmjouUHbg-lFZdLYrDiK-Pq6co/s400/MV5BMTYwNTM5NDkzNV5BMl5BanBnXkFtZTYwODQ4MzY5._V1._SX345_SY475_%255B1%255D.jpg" border="0" /></a>Being the book worm I was (and am) I introduced these books to my family. I'm sure that they would have found them eventually, but I enjoyed the journey of waiting for each book to come out year after year. It's just not the same when all of the books are out already. I was a Junior in High School, yet I still went and saw this with my parents. I remember the part where the face comes out of the book and screams, Mom got so startled, she spilled her big gulp all over me. I realized then and there, not to sit by Mom at movies any more. <div align="center"> </div><div align="center">Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. (2002)</div><div align="center"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiglBTneudMwOYEh2xQlUxU5IAjwZI1HKhN0avtailgAqCtoKG36qMiIRUlBYaIrnxX2HPXA0UIMHwOA8LqbovGx_dRKDGGv1J3wA0pk04DIrRQeIHp-tBvNXn4jaESkU1ftwoLLH4cn3c/s1600/Chamba%255B1%255D.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 285px; height: 400px; text-align: center; display: block; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5629297536907378354" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiglBTneudMwOYEh2xQlUxU5IAjwZI1HKhN0avtailgAqCtoKG36qMiIRUlBYaIrnxX2HPXA0UIMHwOA8LqbovGx_dRKDGGv1J3wA0pk04DIrRQeIHp-tBvNXn4jaESkU1ftwoLLH4cn3c/s400/Chamba%255B1%255D.jpg" border="0" /></a>Senior Year in High School. I can't remember if I had class or not. But I do remember that I went with my friend Veronica Miller (Pratt) during school hours and we played some sort of card game outside the theater while we waiting. We kept hearing these weird bangs coming from the movie playing inside, and couldn't figure out why. Turns out it was the snake trying to eat Harry. Go figure. :) </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (2004)</div><div align="center"> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGU9ZsVMeDQdGxo_TDNT7ILGuyErJFWa-aQ4mK7uGgnB6h3gRTudRKsfwz4npgrfG4_3A1qutYBNgcr6fcyNeDi8OmaiwEhrflSQcBtSOq7kmNfa5dqt3-meS3fEZARsLLWPo-cae-I7I/s1600/mobile_7ecbcacf-8e9f%255B1%255D.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 275px; height: 375px; text-align: center; display: block; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5629297854364923026" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGU9ZsVMeDQdGxo_TDNT7ILGuyErJFWa-aQ4mK7uGgnB6h3gRTudRKsfwz4npgrfG4_3A1qutYBNgcr6fcyNeDi8OmaiwEhrflSQcBtSOq7kmNfa5dqt3-meS3fEZARsLLWPo-cae-I7I/s400/mobile_7ecbcacf-8e9f%255B1%255D.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div align="center">I remember I saw this for my birthday, on June 5, in Florida. I was down there working for Disney and I saw it with my neighbor and friend Andrew Hill and two of my friends, Amanda and Willie Miller, who were dating at the time, just barely, and are now married. They flew all the way from Utah to see me at WDW. I remember Andrew and I were so mad at the way they did this movie and all of the stuff they left out. We kept saying, how are they going to explain that down the road!! </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (2005)</div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLp_rBDfL6K6Xf_rFSoPaNUDcWK1Ax4_0NYIljY54v-WI_TZeVE9YLNXptZ65pOcOyQ-aa0Yq9YnNee5LT0C8TqL5rFr4Bty17_GxvQMOFKYEgZolJuWleXtN_i0ioBB-9i1kMpF2zOK4/s1600/harry-potter-and-the-goblet-of-fire%255B1%255D.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 355px; height: 400px; text-align: center; display: block; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5629298116212436178" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLp_rBDfL6K6Xf_rFSoPaNUDcWK1Ax4_0NYIljY54v-WI_TZeVE9YLNXptZ65pOcOyQ-aa0Yq9YnNee5LT0C8TqL5rFr4Bty17_GxvQMOFKYEgZolJuWleXtN_i0ioBB-9i1kMpF2zOK4/s400/harry-potter-and-the-goblet-of-fire%255B1%255D.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div align="center">I was living in a little yellow crappy house by BYU when the preview came out. I remember watching it on the computer. I was so excited.<br /><iframe src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/ylF1Jp4DIYQ" allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="349" width="560"></iframe><br />This was one of the best trailers WB has ever put out, showing how the characters had grown over the years. I was also dating this guy, named Ben, who's friend said he could get us reserved seats at a theater. He asked me if I was interested. Oh boy, he had no idea! Well... about a lot of things actually. :)</div><div> </div><div align="center">Harry Potter and the Order of the Pheonix (2007)</div><div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 270px; height: 400px; text-align: center; display: block; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5629299577999747202" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8GTdzLh6PevCWYXkhfcVejPoxuNpzizApE2K0Vu8tL-Hbddo5oDQ7ZobqOEW751hjoHb87lVJgmOOjebqCTpPXXBCXR4vhK3rJM28ayNFDouJ21KhBx5dzMdeI5YqIgMcUowCK4qg9II/s400/tf.org-Harry-Potter-the-Order-Phoenix-free%255B1%255D.jpg" border="0" /></div><div> </div><div align="center">I was married by this time and we were visiting my family in Oregon. We went to the 'new' theater in Independence, first movie I saw there, and went to the midnight showing. This is when I discovered Ben's hatred for midnight showings and lines. I saw it with Melissa. She liked the movie so much, she started reading the books. She of course started with the 6th one, and would call me in Utah to ask me what an Auror was. I told her to go back and read all of them! :) </div><div> </div><div align="center"><br />Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince (2009)<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhqH8tMZOJPuaHYvZbZeKcKto0IdFpcLYYbJ6qgr8pUwSD5n1kOTBJDnLk6q9NYe9Y1I6i5HbOianMZ0bppB7O8VFGGyo1c3OAxeAba3cjdPT6XIbJRVTEskcSkTs2JUGZsVzSCRRqU_k/s1600/Harry_Potter_and_the_Half-Blood_Prince_48%255B1%255D.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 259px; height: 400px; text-align: center; display: block; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5629300094361452562" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhqH8tMZOJPuaHYvZbZeKcKto0IdFpcLYYbJ6qgr8pUwSD5n1kOTBJDnLk6q9NYe9Y1I6i5HbOianMZ0bppB7O8VFGGyo1c3OAxeAba3cjdPT6XIbJRVTEskcSkTs2JUGZsVzSCRRqU_k/s400/Harry_Potter_and_the_Half-Blood_Prince_48%255B1%255D.jpg" border="0" /></a><p align="center"><br />I remember seeing this with Mom and Ben. Mom was visiting from Oregon. Dumbledore's death hit me really hard, even though I knew it was coming. Ben and I were talking about having children soon, and I remember the thought of death was prominent in my mind. I remember asking my mother when she thought the spirit entered the body, and if my Dad died while I was pregnant, that meant he wouldn't know my child in the pre-mortal life, or in the mortal one. I didn't like that. And yes, I worry about my father dying a lot. </p><div> </div><div align="center">Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows (2010)</div><div align="center"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdEZ-WJdw27_OwWqK_X9gg2NPvo0gBwFL7IvYFfkwVn_y7mgIaC7vEogqXd9fKD_F1wnBl3lvsiRpRDYctTq-l3P8RfDbOPizHGga2rRJ61Us3ZBz9DT65COrlGWpjIVbVQKVA3C4DYSk/s1600/harry-potter-and-the-deathly-hallows-part-1-m%255B1%255D.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 400px; height: 259px; text-align: center; display: block; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5629300427264504082" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdEZ-WJdw27_OwWqK_X9gg2NPvo0gBwFL7IvYFfkwVn_y7mgIaC7vEogqXd9fKD_F1wnBl3lvsiRpRDYctTq-l3P8RfDbOPizHGga2rRJ61Us3ZBz9DT65COrlGWpjIVbVQKVA3C4DYSk/s400/harry-potter-and-the-deathly-hallows-part-1-m%255B1%255D.jpg" border="0" /></a>I was in Fiddler on the Roof. We had moved back to Oregon and I went with some friends from the show. It was so much fun, and I remember singing 'Total Eclipse of the Heart' with Jon on the way home. I was surprised how awake I was for that movie. I got a call the next morning at 8:30 a.m. from Melissa who wanted to go see it. I went with her, Mom, and Ben again. So in less than 12 hours, I saw it twice. </div><div> </div><div align="center">Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2 (2011)<br /></div><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; width: 270px; height: 400px; text-align: center; display: block; cursor: pointer;" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5629300997362300114" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxGlN2kNsLliObTvFnGWD3pS_Gy5vN7bY7rUyhDhOoM4UOE3qG3yzX_ZhyHFvfoqHi7DOnxiZa4LKuNAfTK3jxCaMJClv4QOT7LYeVleMqVJARy8j3y_NMI8CHaQsei81wmL9iOFYAO0o/s400/Harry-Potter-And-The-Deathly-Hallows-Part-2%255B1%255D.jpg" border="0" /><p align="center"><br />I am really excited to see this movie. It's actually quite nerdy how exctied I am. I loved watching the premire footage from London and the things that JK Rowling said (see clip below).<br /><object style="width: 640px; height: 390px;"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/8iD6eNTKQ0k?version=3"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"><embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" src="http://www.youtube.com/v/8iD6eNTKQ0k?version=3" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" height="390" width="640"></embed></object><br />I love that good books will always be there for me to read and read (and read) and that I can share them with my children. I would go see the midnight showing, but alas, I have a job now, I'm not a college student any more, and I want to see it with my husband first. See how much I've grown. :)<br /></p><p align="center">* Since writing this post, I have seen the movie. I loved it and I sobbed (yes sobbed) at the ending. I blame it on the hormones. But we all know, I'm just a nerd.<br /></p><div> </div><div align="center"> </div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3983907172384738663.post-49124141908740780302011-04-29T12:34:00.004-06:002011-04-29T12:41:53.777-06:00Happy Anniversary - To: Megan From: Ben<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; "><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; ">30 Reasons why I love you, Megan!!!</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; "><br /></span></div>1. First off, I love that you steal my ideas! (but make them better since I would have kept it private. The blog is much cooler!)<br /><br /></span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; ">2. I love that you make everything I do and think better! as noted above, so you make me better!<br /><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; ">3. I love how you make everything I do worth while. There's nobody better to enjoy life with, even all the work!<br /><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; ">4. I love all your facial expressions! Especially, the many that make me laugh! (I'm even smiling as I Rolodex a few in my mind)<br /><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; ">5. I love that it's not your birthday so I only need to list 5 things for our anniversary:)<br /><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; ">6. I love your pity laughs for my dumb jokes!<br /><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; ">7. I love that you'll be an excellent mother! (and your strength and patience as you wait for the privilege)<br /><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; ">8. I love that you have so many different tastes and preferences than me! (even though they're wrong, especially baby names!)<br /><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; ">9. I love your witty sense of humor! (I'm not the only person you make laugh)<br /><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; ">10. I love how much you make me laugh! (I'm not always laughing at you, just when you're a stinker!)<br /><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; ">11. I love your confidence and courage!<br /><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; ">12. I love to hear you sing! You're so good. Some songs show off how truly extraordinary your talent is! (To the point that I'm mad at you like Gail!)</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; "><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; ">13. I love that you love working with high school kids in their plays. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; "><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; ">14. I love how excited and happy you are when you get home from a rehearsal.<br /><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; ">15. I love watching you teach in primary! And watching you gloat about later to your mother ;)<br /><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; ">16. I love that you love hugs since I love your hugs so much, I get more!<br /><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; ">17. I love how beautiful you are, no matter what you're wearing!<br /><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; ">18. I love your willingness and effort to make my priorities yours!<br /><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; ">19. I love how well you know and understand me, and still love and appreciate me.<br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; "><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; ">20. I love that you keep me in check when I get imbalanced.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; "><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; ">21. I love you method for getting rid of your gas! (this is one that I'd like to post a picture of, be thankful)<br /><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; ">22. I love your cooking!<br /><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; ">23. I love how you support and back me up.<br /><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; ">24. I love how talented your are in writing! (and I look forward to the novel you're going to write!)<br /><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; ">25. I love when you share your crazy dreams with me!<br /><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; ">26. I love your passion for reading! (Even though you read the same books so often.)<br /><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; ">27. I love that you're competitive.<br /><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; ">28. I love looking into your eyes and knowing what your thinking.<br /><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; ">29. I love that you love me even though I love you more than you love me;)<div><br /></div><div>30. I love that five years is only the beginning!</div><div><br /></div><div>Love, Ben</div></span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3983907172384738663.post-34065053887196169882011-04-21T15:33:00.018-06:002011-04-26T16:25:38.479-06:00Happy Birthday/ Anniversary!!!<div style="text-align: center;">So Ben is turning the big 2-9 Thursday! I can't belive he's almost 30. What an old man! I thought that I would type up 29 things that I love about my husband! Also, it's our 5 year anniversary on the 29th! So that goes along with it too...<br /><br />Some of the pictures actually go along with the reason, the others are just fun pictures. Love you babe! Happy Birthday!<br /><br /><br /><br />1. I love how handy he is and that he remodeled our condo!<br />Before<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqtlgs2XrRLiLF3m7_Fa9-rBbyUJKzdMCPYvZMCrrBZ67FqJZ5hPOnkQjaQDnEAWU5l7CVrt7GekwJxUVTBGMMcj4ja8TklhynJxaDhBmJyI3JLR0xmASw4-WPLXJTy_GadukV_-y-qtw/s1600/000_0956.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqtlgs2XrRLiLF3m7_Fa9-rBbyUJKzdMCPYvZMCrrBZ67FqJZ5hPOnkQjaQDnEAWU5l7CVrt7GekwJxUVTBGMMcj4ja8TklhynJxaDhBmJyI3JLR0xmASw4-WPLXJTy_GadukV_-y-qtw/s400/000_0956.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600010978603333650" border="0" /></a><br />After!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDDJowpL9vTYy3Qi8S4FctuQedT_0SIkPuW2qQz3HfAwUElpmvIJcqDYeEreBFnZf_DrU-R-0M-uhsQFboiHDXgBpjcWIJ1kZY7Ut9AnhJWYnB0bA8ZJXZNTdk4pC5UDW0do5GDk_x-T4/s1600/IMG_1223.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDDJowpL9vTYy3Qi8S4FctuQedT_0SIkPuW2qQz3HfAwUElpmvIJcqDYeEreBFnZf_DrU-R-0M-uhsQFboiHDXgBpjcWIJ1kZY7Ut9AnhJWYnB0bA8ZJXZNTdk4pC5UDW0do5GDk_x-T4/s400/IMG_1223.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600010971822504610" border="0" /></a><br />2. This one might be TMI: But I love his KISSES!!<br />Disney World<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQq8tMFalR6zaX-aIfxiwl6OI5XNpKfQ503QdBgUr0YzOxHOzTFC71eD6ATc26nTTUUZFU9RJunZVUq47uIhOpz0f8CvQK__r5D87-L41dk6Zhygh0FXJ10GyqBInxUIo8mzrg3r4X25g/s1600/SANY0364.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQq8tMFalR6zaX-aIfxiwl6OI5XNpKfQ503QdBgUr0YzOxHOzTFC71eD6ATc26nTTUUZFU9RJunZVUq47uIhOpz0f8CvQK__r5D87-L41dk6Zhygh0FXJ10GyqBInxUIo8mzrg3r4X25g/s400/SANY0364.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600012286454477346" border="0" /></a>Wedding<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN0gDvsYL0wDFESSZJtKQgQ2uxidFBZiElVJDpjprNypShjie_slEXf27UofpZ8Zm6bEqM7lZHuLOl077G1PPDlVcqdTo3ZFkv_vFJmyYCMjfss2Z9zchKTcLbU8V7-v36KQWTPnZ1_TI/s1600/ShowLetter-2.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN0gDvsYL0wDFESSZJtKQgQ2uxidFBZiElVJDpjprNypShjie_slEXf27UofpZ8Zm6bEqM7lZHuLOl077G1PPDlVcqdTo3ZFkv_vFJmyYCMjfss2Z9zchKTcLbU8V7-v36KQWTPnZ1_TI/s400/ShowLetter-2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600012284803187330" border="0" /></a>Silver Creek Falls<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaL3ovfEGHdLln8a-ztvSVFpQhaToQcokBdMOCWVeyXwjYxmUnUAkKCibJWxPMJCPw73y3yMkvhuwCpVyyY2oW88qpXBw4YncZTevMejehqLIrrjJ3MGHtxgfVkeXNG8c_I1EZurMua80/s1600/100_0391.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaL3ovfEGHdLln8a-ztvSVFpQhaToQcokBdMOCWVeyXwjYxmUnUAkKCibJWxPMJCPw73y3yMkvhuwCpVyyY2oW88qpXBw4YncZTevMejehqLIrrjJ3MGHtxgfVkeXNG8c_I1EZurMua80/s400/100_0391.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600012280011633922" border="0" /></a>Engagement<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcozwv4q-b20Pul9d1o_8NiBq1v7_JGp4T-zGumAKBwDOMuvm2H1HB_ueNlbP8i8U3x10lSsZ4CBmX41VRR7ZqkbU5RuJE6bXrcvCTabfCsMbQ6iGp-Vv6nIqcrZhi4caBa-F7shbs5qU/s1600/IMG_0578.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcozwv4q-b20Pul9d1o_8NiBq1v7_JGp4T-zGumAKBwDOMuvm2H1HB_ueNlbP8i8U3x10lSsZ4CBmX41VRR7ZqkbU5RuJE6bXrcvCTabfCsMbQ6iGp-Vv6nIqcrZhi4caBa-F7shbs5qU/s400/IMG_0578.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600012275748313218" border="0" /></a>Okay okay, you get the point! :)<br /><br />3. I love that he somehow thinks that bugging me constantly about how I don't like all the nasty things that he puts on HIS burger is going to make me change my mind! YUCK!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCZIq0XWuxgF5YqpYp_sYQFjD-pgFXdqjA_hNIWcrjrFNUTRlEPDzFT-YHKIsQuXao1UpMXoLfaeCFsHN8zgRgycfcz9L5Cd2MJDKMNC2lDttwF1GC_JXOCdZ02I937N-IPRW3bvGQ5lc/s1600/000_0976.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCZIq0XWuxgF5YqpYp_sYQFjD-pgFXdqjA_hNIWcrjrFNUTRlEPDzFT-YHKIsQuXao1UpMXoLfaeCFsHN8zgRgycfcz9L5Cd2MJDKMNC2lDttwF1GC_JXOCdZ02I937N-IPRW3bvGQ5lc/s400/000_0976.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600012525962064274" border="0" /></a><br /><br />4. I love that although he gives me crap for it, he supports my candy eating habits by bringing me my favorite candy from a store in Seattle every time he visits.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeefYLy9trSBRxSCszNkxUMBhWnVoi87cMnsyoWjqisv7UPnKECOhQcKj0v6tKGSdDKVe5t9btPRHanlrQb8dFnHANSJb-TnAXbwg6l1aUPAkI8K59J7ZsFQM5eGDe8uOzLIK2XLnDm80/s1600/IMG_0002.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeefYLy9trSBRxSCszNkxUMBhWnVoi87cMnsyoWjqisv7UPnKECOhQcKj0v6tKGSdDKVe5t9btPRHanlrQb8dFnHANSJb-TnAXbwg6l1aUPAkI8K59J7ZsFQM5eGDe8uOzLIK2XLnDm80/s400/IMG_0002.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600002860372077890" border="0" /></a><br /><br />5. I love the way he looks when he plays with my niece Ella.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJHF-dOYCLWl4irElMo7vMkTIpUnzEAQCvRjptLjHSbvrF_4VdkHeFzWuU6SHd5wfjFtSpi5KC6e4LtXBBBodD-DiiLYwNPyYJwQX1YnTLzd8bpdvDvG7rg6sA4RREz2d5nYqVmj0_NAc/s1600/IMG_0389_2.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJHF-dOYCLWl4irElMo7vMkTIpUnzEAQCvRjptLjHSbvrF_4VdkHeFzWuU6SHd5wfjFtSpi5KC6e4LtXBBBodD-DiiLYwNPyYJwQX1YnTLzd8bpdvDvG7rg6sA4RREz2d5nYqVmj0_NAc/s400/IMG_0389_2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600002855244052770" border="0" /></a><br /><br />6. I love the way he looks at me when Ella and I are singing and dancing around.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTwZ9-w2y7cLdxXB4EHDZpXTAxcpBX2OyNoO4K2LyuwkqDKhaw8wS7xsxgM0eckCgJxqh2Ri3D044ABL6CsH8_Px-8oWXgNjMxHd_jO5QIoDHw2CezZsEKA8MTZDSAND3hxWyWiACEgFg/s1600/IMG_0634.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTwZ9-w2y7cLdxXB4EHDZpXTAxcpBX2OyNoO4K2LyuwkqDKhaw8wS7xsxgM0eckCgJxqh2Ri3D044ABL6CsH8_Px-8oWXgNjMxHd_jO5QIoDHw2CezZsEKA8MTZDSAND3hxWyWiACEgFg/s400/IMG_0634.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600002839038281810" border="0" /></a><br /><br />7. I love that even though he drives WAY to fast and yet I still feel safe in the car with him!<br />Bear Lake 2009<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQZiaeNZGyOfqABUDKsj-G2sq3grprhUMiV_qC8OqK8Jb1EqEfknNrYJ_DJzRR6aLHw4J-tw4xEFhF22otqU3vQZ0s5q-4Of15lSBWmawz_AJPwsoF3R5e4tCiaJp-KEJf4IXMPA6fT3A/s1600/IMG_0698.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQZiaeNZGyOfqABUDKsj-G2sq3grprhUMiV_qC8OqK8Jb1EqEfknNrYJ_DJzRR6aLHw4J-tw4xEFhF22otqU3vQZ0s5q-4Of15lSBWmawz_AJPwsoF3R5e4tCiaJp-KEJf4IXMPA6fT3A/s400/IMG_0698.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600016525546499586" border="0" /></a><br /><br />8. I hate that he gets out of speeding tickets whenever he gets pulled over. But I LOVE that we don't have to pay for his speeding habits.<br />Central High School Football Game 2010<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6CqcBjABs3P6M7V0R2opHc883TUJFC4hpxbb67DGcQxnGNGXwhs5ejVm3d0wScFhxo3IfV4Z7DCwC7gVqMQ4nNcycBm-tzSA00IJmX829UnELxxyt8SGADZ0GPV5CXlqRQnBPr5blo2M/s1600/IMG_0117.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 298px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6CqcBjABs3P6M7V0R2opHc883TUJFC4hpxbb67DGcQxnGNGXwhs5ejVm3d0wScFhxo3IfV4Z7DCwC7gVqMQ4nNcycBm-tzSA00IJmX829UnELxxyt8SGADZ0GPV5CXlqRQnBPr5blo2M/s400/IMG_0117.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600016524803352194" border="0" /></a><br /><br />9. I love that he doesn't get mad at me when I get in a car accident.<br /><br />At home with the Girls 2011<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5IHtcrui0SwzZfK3AW5hOhcx6KTuXciUo_8iY6uzQ1m1ahsZ740-vQEGHKmq3mmWXN501cXjTiI9Te0Y_MezM27Op61OzSrSPPqU0bHfR8V3PMkyVWFDbUkjMkmYheFQLmUgwhivvXwA/s1600/IMG_0526.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5IHtcrui0SwzZfK3AW5hOhcx6KTuXciUo_8iY6uzQ1m1ahsZ740-vQEGHKmq3mmWXN501cXjTiI9Te0Y_MezM27Op61OzSrSPPqU0bHfR8V3PMkyVWFDbUkjMkmYheFQLmUgwhivvXwA/s400/IMG_0526.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600016517477848546" border="0" /></a><br /><br />10. I love that he tells me that he loves me all the time!<br />Hawaii 2009<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj7bj8860sEQOjT7gqYxd1ovTKlefPB15C50hXVBmfayip0WI3DGqTqxvaK-WhyphenhyphenvlGZc_1RemxJav31d7seZjWlIqCKxST0R2a3J7BeT7LpViun6Bu7pbdYQ8rIJwtyRgXwQbq2Zmekvs/s1600/IMG_0232.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj7bj8860sEQOjT7gqYxd1ovTKlefPB15C50hXVBmfayip0WI3DGqTqxvaK-WhyphenhyphenvlGZc_1RemxJav31d7seZjWlIqCKxST0R2a3J7BeT7LpViun6Bu7pbdYQ8rIJwtyRgXwQbq2Zmekvs/s400/IMG_0232.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600016509587428226" border="0" /></a><br /><br />11. I love that we can communicate with out actually saying anything to each other.<br /><br />Ben's Birthday 2009 (Hawaii)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUgvj9JJ-ryzgNwJ0eQ-6nT0B6K0zj8ubA7R8jnxl8dJnrKWYGCE_ScMuqWcJQyOk1W0bZwIQ-P3lKhtxzabSKJd5zp5Ls9f7cspCfO-f3JEOVc4KzZaiGx3eYCFGKgwrENKollX_-rIs/s1600/IMG_0169.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUgvj9JJ-ryzgNwJ0eQ-6nT0B6K0zj8ubA7R8jnxl8dJnrKWYGCE_ScMuqWcJQyOk1W0bZwIQ-P3lKhtxzabSKJd5zp5Ls9f7cspCfO-f3JEOVc4KzZaiGx3eYCFGKgwrENKollX_-rIs/s400/IMG_0169.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600016506013458562" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />12. I love that he is goal oriented and tries to get me to be too. (Even though I find it really annoying at the same time).<br /><br />Duck Game (2010)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyjTMy2IPQPc-gffC5_c8UAIqoqz_FKuCgjJCw8pMRMyOZwcv06jShRaYdXEdaBbO2LKLa_2wg-LZH_H5j5ywsoPc5v6vm0KdSq7PCVqJTzxo1EqXQtoLT-DDU9lyL6Cias0s6rOS6jzM/s1600/IMG_0034.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 298px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyjTMy2IPQPc-gffC5_c8UAIqoqz_FKuCgjJCw8pMRMyOZwcv06jShRaYdXEdaBbO2LKLa_2wg-LZH_H5j5ywsoPc5v6vm0KdSq7PCVqJTzxo1EqXQtoLT-DDU9lyL6Cias0s6rOS6jzM/s400/IMG_0034.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600018204938358562" border="0" /></a><br /><br />13. He made my dream of going to New York City come true.<br />Times Square (2009)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT63Xs3X0DuzN0MFj8HHEgxq9GedwB6id3SEKD8bkoEDDDyYu8SFoL7nDR0byLqhdIx2Fc4bZ9rHSWgZReUJjd6FYmwTMt1X-K23wQG4k2h_oSFx3BscGIRuvKt2EAOfQT8oPeHjw5l4s/s1600/IMG_0654.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT63Xs3X0DuzN0MFj8HHEgxq9GedwB6id3SEKD8bkoEDDDyYu8SFoL7nDR0byLqhdIx2Fc4bZ9rHSWgZReUJjd6FYmwTMt1X-K23wQG4k2h_oSFx3BscGIRuvKt2EAOfQT8oPeHjw5l4s/s400/IMG_0654.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600000798514292786" border="0" /></a><br /><br />14. He took me to Disney World.<br />WDW 2006<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfpeERyZmuvtWInDA2aTmINEfQmWYKbGB8Q1qAICQ4wdQnnn8EhTh5Tem7L8fFGQdMGYxBue3RswqKru8Whb0KTKzf_y-0WJbMK6-n-p8k794Y3XW_TLtq0J-Oa-JHljAmsKklUS_9wvo/s1600/SANY0493.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfpeERyZmuvtWInDA2aTmINEfQmWYKbGB8Q1qAICQ4wdQnnn8EhTh5Tem7L8fFGQdMGYxBue3RswqKru8Whb0KTKzf_y-0WJbMK6-n-p8k794Y3XW_TLtq0J-Oa-JHljAmsKklUS_9wvo/s400/SANY0493.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600000789487997250" border="0" /></a><br /><br />15. Twice! :)<br />WDW 2010<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFnGbEF2cCJ2D70P214r0CyTi0BNuKKGs_JUd-Joifkn46m5KXSGRwmi1DcXzVlIDUMaNcfK6nYOak6LgPuTTP4FKnTLFN845WF3kibYrR9okBoWO5QuTyZP2VWDgEMdCqMwE83fQiqK8/s1600/IMG_1371.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFnGbEF2cCJ2D70P214r0CyTi0BNuKKGs_JUd-Joifkn46m5KXSGRwmi1DcXzVlIDUMaNcfK6nYOak6LgPuTTP4FKnTLFN845WF3kibYrR9okBoWO5QuTyZP2VWDgEMdCqMwE83fQiqK8/s400/IMG_1371.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600000805093411410" border="0" /></a><br /><br />16. I love that he asks me to explain Harry Potter in detail. AND he took me to Harry Potter World!<br />Universal Studios 2010<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW-e54mOQy1As8a3RZlyOgUdY2CnXxaZrj_RHPu2fQGx5FGoaXsaTBOc476x9Ge8L4oNgujiecjXwdc6yuxqmTge_U3TkH-sNvdb_v3TYCNv9A6Jl8GoQphjfrJs4B3h3OO83fWqwINj4/s1600/IMG_1040.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW-e54mOQy1As8a3RZlyOgUdY2CnXxaZrj_RHPu2fQGx5FGoaXsaTBOc476x9Ge8L4oNgujiecjXwdc6yuxqmTge_U3TkH-sNvdb_v3TYCNv9A6Jl8GoQphjfrJs4B3h3OO83fWqwINj4/s400/IMG_1040.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600007092804593730" border="0" /></a><br /><br />17. He took me to Hawaii.<br />Anniversary 2009<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzK7hCyMWNbKF8Wm2o3fx68cnX_9BWQptGZHm5WN8gbCwccEh1UQXQVSsE3u4AnWv6h-F2v-wBqP6nNDzieJBKrijg-ZKr30IIOF-ksu73-XwSf51zRDEaTopoFYL20RaxnXPKlBT8bw4/s1600/IMG_0226.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzK7hCyMWNbKF8Wm2o3fx68cnX_9BWQptGZHm5WN8gbCwccEh1UQXQVSsE3u4AnWv6h-F2v-wBqP6nNDzieJBKrijg-ZKr30IIOF-ksu73-XwSf51zRDEaTopoFYL20RaxnXPKlBT8bw4/s400/IMG_0226.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600002836152887730" border="0" /></a><br /><br />18. He encourages me to explore and be daring. Example: I don't think I would've ever jumped out of plane if it weren't for him.<br />Skydiving in Hawaii 2009<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP0c8405_JKcxU8lWPXbD_CGz2jzdQm87_Iaol_6wehIVnVNhxY4bzCghaTuLU8BF9vrcH0we5QJpUaXkWFaeen4W-8gJrw1CKmo99PhDZr024ZNK7_bPJuz4eIF6XNQtVNWizgDYPv-w/s1600/IMG_0298.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP0c8405_JKcxU8lWPXbD_CGz2jzdQm87_Iaol_6wehIVnVNhxY4bzCghaTuLU8BF9vrcH0we5QJpUaXkWFaeen4W-8gJrw1CKmo99PhDZr024ZNK7_bPJuz4eIF6XNQtVNWizgDYPv-w/s400/IMG_0298.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600009319200345682" border="0" /></a><br /><br />19. He tells me that he loves me multiple times a day!<br />Ben's Birthday 2010<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMxdAcuhHGqOcL9EdMXmENkZTLIbFIqVmYpwpbJ2kweeY5jg5fSwFpc5ZfiQmF09bdcmxPJ-4RKdKDxNWFPaSG3CWnzk4O_1_DXv2P3WeLya8j5gNY7Zv2Ll40DWwkK-ZAeR5ISoExOaY/s1600/IMG_1053.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMxdAcuhHGqOcL9EdMXmENkZTLIbFIqVmYpwpbJ2kweeY5jg5fSwFpc5ZfiQmF09bdcmxPJ-4RKdKDxNWFPaSG3CWnzk4O_1_DXv2P3WeLya8j5gNY7Zv2Ll40DWwkK-ZAeR5ISoExOaY/s400/IMG_1053.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600018197963477042" border="0" /></a><br /><br />20. I love that he loves hugs. I wasn't a big hugger, loved to kiss, but hugging... now I can't get enough. I love hugs!<br />Day we got engaged January 2006<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxFgapm5ri_bR4tgkzTl-6HxubzRpXjsXyXXS51Qy0s5lE-uVts1gqZZ2VARMBktGW50h9Wvwogocki5jvIvFpYQGvLdAjuzudCIFA14KV4RhN4LYMYFxEtDRVQT1BXltXKNRPfOUWpBI/s1600/IMG_0563.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxFgapm5ri_bR4tgkzTl-6HxubzRpXjsXyXXS51Qy0s5lE-uVts1gqZZ2VARMBktGW50h9Wvwogocki5jvIvFpYQGvLdAjuzudCIFA14KV4RhN4LYMYFxEtDRVQT1BXltXKNRPfOUWpBI/s400/IMG_0563.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600008155043124066" border="0" /></a><br /><br />21. I love when he smiles and his mouth is open and his chin is up in the air. I love that he knows that he does this. And that he knows it looks silly.<br />Broken down on Space Mountain WDW 2010<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ9V-uUxVWpNueQPua-kurdPd22QR8Kzb_q1uoNi8sfJvEf3Mfg-8qljOlG-zBCuqnMxs1GFQA33CEYMmpqB_khl8PrdtQOGZt8HgWnMgXn6_amsbKnKziKc33-kN3mhPO68LwmbBJEow/s1600/IMG_0245.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQ9V-uUxVWpNueQPua-kurdPd22QR8Kzb_q1uoNi8sfJvEf3Mfg-8qljOlG-zBCuqnMxs1GFQA33CEYMmpqB_khl8PrdtQOGZt8HgWnMgXn6_amsbKnKziKc33-kN3mhPO68LwmbBJEow/s400/IMG_0245.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600002847590050946" border="0" /></a><br /><br />22. I love how he works so hard for our family.<br />Bear Lake 2009<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidKAQ6WfBuZW3D7p0gvBJ2wKSQGJ998U1OOedWUkEIqtJ_QxnEsPufa7Y32kBnM5GZixrKh4TxaYGydT4dlc1aMZq76yHt_cg3Dc6_hf0UrPxVQBuWZsDpeM59yaKisZeMi3ehfdY0lUE/s1600/6329_1215896280016_1307104175_30621763_6911378_n.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidKAQ6WfBuZW3D7p0gvBJ2wKSQGJ998U1OOedWUkEIqtJ_QxnEsPufa7Y32kBnM5GZixrKh4TxaYGydT4dlc1aMZq76yHt_cg3Dc6_hf0UrPxVQBuWZsDpeM59yaKisZeMi3ehfdY0lUE/s400/6329_1215896280016_1307104175_30621763_6911378_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600018184100605842" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />23. I love how he has always encouraged me to pursue my dreams.<br />Fiddler on the Roof 2010<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7dcA8s3NNxfYoKp0u686CV9YSPKhhw52H70ojrYheF4e3Dic7ekYt5ZUEhrMTP8PzeeCabXblJKNaZ5jx97U9V6Uc2GjRPHNafWzfFYyJucDK7b2WjediRCcJ4nx7CcA1G8Z6OjPxGGU/s1600/74391_169261153094982_100000332941707_445739_2173136_n.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7dcA8s3NNxfYoKp0u686CV9YSPKhhw52H70ojrYheF4e3Dic7ekYt5ZUEhrMTP8PzeeCabXblJKNaZ5jx97U9V6Uc2GjRPHNafWzfFYyJucDK7b2WjediRCcJ4nx7CcA1G8Z6OjPxGGU/s400/74391_169261153094982_100000332941707_445739_2173136_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600007083526654402" border="0" /></a><br />Savior of the World 2009<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLTPyqk8tAotxGA5WJmObuxSJsgyuagtomEySqBr1nOupwFXIxuaGHB8S44lRK9czMScF_raR5d72hqMwyNSjB8KwvoDcttbQrqIQ5z-B51hHx9n5CGjpLkHQbIixwWBl6XFkkOJhqzc4/s1600/IMG_0960.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLTPyqk8tAotxGA5WJmObuxSJsgyuagtomEySqBr1nOupwFXIxuaGHB8S44lRK9czMScF_raR5d72hqMwyNSjB8KwvoDcttbQrqIQ5z-B51hHx9n5CGjpLkHQbIixwWBl6XFkkOJhqzc4/s400/IMG_0960.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600009313901840994" border="0" /></a><br /><br />24. I love that he supports my weird coat/purse fetish!<br /><br />December 2008 (Both coats are mine)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfx_6UGT9t2StfuOZx3eyh7X2uwHyTUnsUWVmV5t3qMLHJo9dwJGUZ1oIyPWA_j1vJPTZN1jQ9jqVf568Q8QLqjoAR_4bUHEKMGu3OTl-xMTpwJ3TmbK8svAritRqnxMc6aOegACfsuuY/s1600/l_cb1e2f7f79ec841a47b93fcb1bb2b010.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfx_6UGT9t2StfuOZx3eyh7X2uwHyTUnsUWVmV5t3qMLHJo9dwJGUZ1oIyPWA_j1vJPTZN1jQ9jqVf568Q8QLqjoAR_4bUHEKMGu3OTl-xMTpwJ3TmbK8svAritRqnxMc6aOegACfsuuY/s400/l_cb1e2f7f79ec841a47b93fcb1bb2b010.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599999558500450978" border="0" /></a><br />NYC Subway 2009<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyMD4-SsSEjHtHSr_qkM6FnlXwV2fkP4vKdYFll_YilcHohYE3AAIqCfmEG_KWdlgsszcAi9IorVRBSLJBn4hgnpqgNEUXtX3mgglRPVZlE1-YlNgQGcICGcuc1La8hw6VJg9RZo1z8EM/s1600/IMG_0502.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyMD4-SsSEjHtHSr_qkM6FnlXwV2fkP4vKdYFll_YilcHohYE3AAIqCfmEG_KWdlgsszcAi9IorVRBSLJBn4hgnpqgNEUXtX3mgglRPVZlE1-YlNgQGcICGcuc1La8hw6VJg9RZo1z8EM/s400/IMG_0502.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600014538126570402" border="0" /></a><br /><br />25. I love that he is a BYU Cougar fan! Just like my Daddy!<br />BYU v Utah Game 2006<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisUegMop4Tf9WWdPYzeiQRrlAwBVrSEX-8qV_8-fn3Adw6fbXVVl-TGYm2lgsK8zEVxxlaC1VAjd6_04QAtUTKwv0OgGTGeHtQxCx9k3_vEHAEkJJf2whwBe0lzLiGu9bQPjA9_jauyxU/s1600/SANY0362.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisUegMop4Tf9WWdPYzeiQRrlAwBVrSEX-8qV_8-fn3Adw6fbXVVl-TGYm2lgsK8zEVxxlaC1VAjd6_04QAtUTKwv0OgGTGeHtQxCx9k3_vEHAEkJJf2whwBe0lzLiGu9bQPjA9_jauyxU/s400/SANY0362.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5599999560337807570" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />26. I love that he thinks that I'm cute when he knows I'm lying to him<br />Las Vegas 2010<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip-bkyCCtBpTXTfOTTqHC36FTOUecSDJ3P8oBzVRiv22HO3uSCBOUbmnqLfro9CJeSs6eUbVZHzKR0kXEdpfzsAa71xHzXDbm1B3gD2O28TWY0dEsYd4ozQqOgG7x3ZaIG-BaZpRQbuUs/s1600/IMG_1092.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip-bkyCCtBpTXTfOTTqHC36FTOUecSDJ3P8oBzVRiv22HO3uSCBOUbmnqLfro9CJeSs6eUbVZHzKR0kXEdpfzsAa71xHzXDbm1B3gD2O28TWY0dEsYd4ozQqOgG7x3ZaIG-BaZpRQbuUs/s400/IMG_1092.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600018193959561970" border="0" /></a><br /><br />27. I love that he actually thinks he knows when I'm lying to him. :)<br /><br />SLC Temple 2010<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtNNCshC4YsUHeyFFyoaBiBSkL5snTKlyBeeVSyzjj0PWVD7VdthCpMx6A7Ys0i9Qm9PvsTZuK_jENgD9GbmdT96AmX6uW3q_smbksDILO5A4n3vXWJD6S69rXwQ3Lr81_isjXPQc6his/s1600/IMG_0768.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtNNCshC4YsUHeyFFyoaBiBSkL5snTKlyBeeVSyzjj0PWVD7VdthCpMx6A7Ys0i9Qm9PvsTZuK_jENgD9GbmdT96AmX6uW3q_smbksDILO5A4n3vXWJD6S69rXwQ3Lr81_isjXPQc6his/s400/IMG_0768.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600018188437634738" border="0" /></a><br /><br />28. I love that he supported me getting my degree BEFORE we had kids!<br /><br />BYU Graduation 2009<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaDq52p0CUMasgZtSWWTomKfxjnQXrLggxskXP2ILZlYtLQaEKLo_4AV24hkA2xuUtiwLACValqG-UtT2RJzDT-B3rvrGjgjf0V6rV4KVb8OC7N1T7nAQTEI1JyYxlAHVdlS0XdGGiSD0/s1600/IMG_0130.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaDq52p0CUMasgZtSWWTomKfxjnQXrLggxskXP2ILZlYtLQaEKLo_4AV24hkA2xuUtiwLACValqG-UtT2RJzDT-B3rvrGjgjf0V6rV4KVb8OC7N1T7nAQTEI1JyYxlAHVdlS0XdGGiSD0/s400/IMG_0130.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600013316370114818" border="0" /></a><br /><br />29. The BIGGEST reason I love you is...<br /><br />I can't even say! I'm just so grateful that he had a lapse in judgment and married me! Or how he put it "You were hot!" Happy 5 year Anniversary on Friday!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT9pJKFCWHOsLJyj5FFncL0fHRahsKF4yslqlLpzrFS49DDvIwMA77P5tLcH5LeV826jWoOI45mAMZGWr-u0aXVWYjUjg04p38Ip4_taiCELz55wpYMXonewBfatJb65HC5_4ndTjD0jk/s1600/3.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgT9pJKFCWHOsLJyj5FFncL0fHRahsKF4yslqlLpzrFS49DDvIwMA77P5tLcH5LeV826jWoOI45mAMZGWr-u0aXVWYjUjg04p38Ip4_taiCELz55wpYMXonewBfatJb65HC5_4ndTjD0jk/s400/3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600019937930206562" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBPNYY8t4Xsy-T4tG-KDixmZooP7f69wfrIOivRZOfv74NLrICqv0oiLBT8cgqFd1_KF0eBIxzVYW3dgCWXr8i47o_dymzegNtGy-Gl0S2o3zwygY4E6lPQkUWqVVAE6KEcHnY0sReI6s/s1600/sc0ff8fff9.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 286px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBPNYY8t4Xsy-T4tG-KDixmZooP7f69wfrIOivRZOfv74NLrICqv0oiLBT8cgqFd1_KF0eBIxzVYW3dgCWXr8i47o_dymzegNtGy-Gl0S2o3zwygY4E6lPQkUWqVVAE6KEcHnY0sReI6s/s400/sc0ff8fff9.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600019934625241330" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiTC_AA2fVog7IGRC1DjzYisnFgZ6HIbbD0ic4HehA_MB6if_-MIf-GyodK_6PeGB0y8hxmvceVx8Vy4MkQ25G6hVyd0v3uCFBcHc_fUmX_GSpzwr4pMzBuRJubcQVudk1Pejw8cSgd3I/s1600/sc0ffbdbb1_2.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 321px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiTC_AA2fVog7IGRC1DjzYisnFgZ6HIbbD0ic4HehA_MB6if_-MIf-GyodK_6PeGB0y8hxmvceVx8Vy4MkQ25G6hVyd0v3uCFBcHc_fUmX_GSpzwr4pMzBuRJubcQVudk1Pejw8cSgd3I/s400/sc0ffbdbb1_2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600019927918848290" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6la3gsrCJvoic46nfulbkTDC-A2b-CINn8MwpP6gvIBFZqAmhMurPhI7KugAHVrjg_B9SY19HzH_oS9r3OrX3jVhXxeM6BbwyMdjzvJ3BSaa1s-mlq7ppDzSX0W1f5Pg3pkZmJuTlGCM/s1600/sc0ff775e5.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 278px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6la3gsrCJvoic46nfulbkTDC-A2b-CINn8MwpP6gvIBFZqAmhMurPhI7KugAHVrjg_B9SY19HzH_oS9r3OrX3jVhXxeM6BbwyMdjzvJ3BSaa1s-mlq7ppDzSX0W1f5Pg3pkZmJuTlGCM/s400/sc0ff775e5.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5600019926573839010" border="0" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3983907172384738663.post-84198732606552674222011-04-14T14:05:00.004-06:002011-04-19T10:56:57.135-06:00Date Night<div style="text-align: center;">I have the most wonderful husband. That goes with out saying. Not only does he love me, but he encourages me to embrace the things that I love.<br /><br />So when I asked him if we could go see Billy Elliott which was coming to Portland, he said 'Of Course'. But to add to that, he said, "But only if we get good seats,"<br /><br />See!! We are perfect for each other!!<br /><br />Billy Elliot happened the Thursday before the baby shower. I was stressed, sick and Ben had been sick since Monday. So we piled into the car halfheartedly and off to Portland we went. We stopped by P.F. Changs for some dinner, but the wait was too long. So we ordered it to go.<br /><br />We sat in the parking lot, in the back seat of our car, sharing Mongolian Beef and Lettuce Wraps.We sat laughing at each other and suddenly we both were feeling a little better. We got to the theater, went to the bathroom and had three minutes to spare.<br /><br />The show was so fun. Great Dancing and touching. There is a lot of swearing in it, since it's an Irish Mining Town. But there were times where I laughed, I cried, and my mouth dropped open in shock. So overall a good experience.<br /><br />Ben wasn't in the mood to take any pictures, but I insisted on documenting something.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNUiEqlX64ActskPwfgJ0O4eAv6u5qjI6kB9y2GXjoeYKPbyUFqKFSYX2oLEixcc9_b_aKzmENLESkjVAxKUCzOemD3btLvWNp70lU8tWYOohydLWoWbS-HtVJ3huR6F92WwZQ92FgZQQ/s1600/IMG_0693.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 299px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNUiEqlX64ActskPwfgJ0O4eAv6u5qjI6kB9y2GXjoeYKPbyUFqKFSYX2oLEixcc9_b_aKzmENLESkjVAxKUCzOemD3btLvWNp70lU8tWYOohydLWoWbS-HtVJ3huR6F92WwZQ92FgZQQ/s400/IMG_0693.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595536506483566946" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I sure did miss my friend Kristi Hill at this moment cause she's willing to take crazy photos with me! This was taken at Legally Blonde The Musical in SLC<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqArNJd1vZASowX8cTrm6n2ecnDz6gIpfTys-31Gd9XnfvyouwWdn61uJhtTgabrVZiGJGI8WNKbTdUTuTHI-qayZHFjaKVEBGPHTd6pAOaLYwLPY0dq9g3zrDDs8faE2AU1nYoOGJNWQ/s1600/IMG_0986.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqArNJd1vZASowX8cTrm6n2ecnDz6gIpfTys-31Gd9XnfvyouwWdn61uJhtTgabrVZiGJGI8WNKbTdUTuTHI-qayZHFjaKVEBGPHTd6pAOaLYwLPY0dq9g3zrDDs8faE2AU1nYoOGJNWQ/s400/IMG_0986.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595536513741682050" border="0" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3983907172384738663.post-70295566628051947512011-04-10T19:38:00.006-06:002011-04-11T10:03:01.606-06:00Melissa's Baby Shower<div style="text-align: center;">This weekend was my sister Melissa's baby shower. And any of you that know me, or have been following the blog, know that I have been planning/working on this for a few weeks now. And I think that it turned out pretty good. :)<br /><br />Melissa and I are the closest in age than we are to any of our other siblings. And since our family goes, Boy Girl Boy Girl, all the way until Melissa and I (Girl Girl) we are also the only two that have a sibiling of the same sex next to us. So to sum up... we're pretty close. :) She and her husband tried about 5 years for this precious gift of a baby, so I wanted her baby shower to be something that didn't disappoint and everything that she could ever think of.<br /><br /> Here are some pictures from the event for Melissa and Baby Kalli!<br /><br />My Beautiful Sister (and Kalli)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc7DPN92mPAOtsmM6PJoMImvd7uZKn7LmC6XlRTeALA_EvUI1S4lKzP7RgCK5Ahqmm-mrWepfYVRqH2q2VxobFFeSOvL0w2CSiIPV9tf7zoWwOfbOur4LP5NHCGcoQGmt_EBBPVq5dm-o/s1600/IMG_7619.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc7DPN92mPAOtsmM6PJoMImvd7uZKn7LmC6XlRTeALA_EvUI1S4lKzP7RgCK5Ahqmm-mrWepfYVRqH2q2VxobFFeSOvL0w2CSiIPV9tf7zoWwOfbOur4LP5NHCGcoQGmt_EBBPVq5dm-o/s400/IMG_7619.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594135179791260146" border="0" /></a><br />The Banner says 'Kalli' and has Castles on the side flags. The colors all matched her bedding which was the theme for the shower. Princess. With pink, purple and green. Here is a picture of the pillars that I wrapped with white lights and tulle to look kind of like a castle.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4zvVzzWe4AWivIrxb1VChovaEkOtQSy1N-1gsZoL8hrY_sCR3ILRh6Bv8cHFpqAv-UsYBPaGGG5ikM5whqUG54JANy7KhyALwue5-tECudVb0aBpqaVSNS-SROj-XqmFYD0SDABYDsPY/s1600/IMG_7570.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4zvVzzWe4AWivIrxb1VChovaEkOtQSy1N-1gsZoL8hrY_sCR3ILRh6Bv8cHFpqAv-UsYBPaGGG5ikM5whqUG54JANy7KhyALwue5-tECudVb0aBpqaVSNS-SROj-XqmFYD0SDABYDsPY/s400/IMG_7570.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594135188181568018" border="0" /></a><br />The spread. The "K" for Kalli, chocolate fountain, fruit platter, raspberry napoleons, cupcakes with raspberries and crown tags, the "Sugar, Spice, Everything, Nice" candy jars, the diaper cake, flowers and butterfly sugar cookies, fruit platter, chicken salad croissant sandwiches, and raspberry slush punch. Mmmm!!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAqedw6XfxhBpW71eO4VigWmCRRdR7SCiXC1YlmVEx14WhUnN4mrWyk7ZJKSWT73KNh_NjiCfopMrRLcn7XZegyYG5uDWpavlEaWCJtk-w9FbwGl9ez0dXQFU_Ats0xp_W3BYrOHXv38Y/s1600/IMG_7560.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAqedw6XfxhBpW71eO4VigWmCRRdR7SCiXC1YlmVEx14WhUnN4mrWyk7ZJKSWT73KNh_NjiCfopMrRLcn7XZegyYG5uDWpavlEaWCJtk-w9FbwGl9ez0dXQFU_Ats0xp_W3BYrOHXv38Y/s400/IMG_7560.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594136395824374498" border="0" /></a><br />The napoleons. Raspberry and Lemon! These were a big hit. Gone before I knew it.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5sMB1t7btx7niQwvqkR8sU9SegC5L87jiqQ1d4DawzihMx-ebZbCvCn_KX-c_B_sTuRoKG7FOyaNjYHEt1D-sp_mIjG6wgtgEJbMJf5qwAuZMhhJswSB1jbh1BA-oH9uAk9zZisftTTA/s1600/IMG_7563.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5sMB1t7btx7niQwvqkR8sU9SegC5L87jiqQ1d4DawzihMx-ebZbCvCn_KX-c_B_sTuRoKG7FOyaNjYHEt1D-sp_mIjG6wgtgEJbMJf5qwAuZMhhJswSB1jbh1BA-oH9uAk9zZisftTTA/s400/IMG_7563.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594136115702080546" border="0" /></a><br />The cupcakes and the crown tags. So cute.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4S7Nb6Buswux2AAk9qGb2rJK8uifpvzvHPM5QntphI1rlCuH3HURc7xMQx0X4I3xB-WosHIcS7YDxkeA9pWLv92LBA1zIM3JvSwapddtISf3wEz4UJ_4g6wEf06In4wh6wcTAoghxBX0/s1600/IMG_7562.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4S7Nb6Buswux2AAk9qGb2rJK8uifpvzvHPM5QntphI1rlCuH3HURc7xMQx0X4I3xB-WosHIcS7YDxkeA9pWLv92LBA1zIM3JvSwapddtISf3wEz4UJ_4g6wEf06In4wh6wcTAoghxBX0/s400/IMG_7562.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594136112573914354" border="0" /></a><br />The Candy jars. Melt-a-way mints, Hershey kisses, Jordan Almonds, and Sweet Tart Jelly Beans<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTnSvbSxGivH9FoC198sJkgGU3-Ngu66v_KCCE32vzS7f2optLxjnz8GSALx-2QKkv3gEljYWKrBD5yEzxClLGp5y8TrmcjCefuuKWH4TM-ZTlyBlaIZ3awfuy2gGWxMaR9Z64UQpCOB8/s1600/IMG_7559.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTnSvbSxGivH9FoC198sJkgGU3-Ngu66v_KCCE32vzS7f2optLxjnz8GSALx-2QKkv3gEljYWKrBD5yEzxClLGp5y8TrmcjCefuuKWH4TM-ZTlyBlaIZ3awfuy2gGWxMaR9Z64UQpCOB8/s400/IMG_7559.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594136107256278466" border="0" /></a><br />The Diaper cake. Made with the same ribbon as the banner. The bear on the top of the cake is the same bear that Melissa had as a baby. It was hidden away by Mom to give to her as a gift, but I pulled it out, stuck a crown on top of it, and Mom tied a bow around it. We thought it was the perfect cake topper. Brought the sentimental element, plus, it's darn cute.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQGl1VsbSFE1PX_t-ClJCHmAiADgsQK-4ohpBXLeLzhkttGoOTtvWjgA_Sa3IL3QU3z89RovWlMwTANTVR0O_tVdybZwKBU1PlcGYZVpSOVjutx3iHNfWFoeOw1pGFPzD4eUht92I4cdg/s1600/IMG_7555_2.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQGl1VsbSFE1PX_t-ClJCHmAiADgsQK-4ohpBXLeLzhkttGoOTtvWjgA_Sa3IL3QU3z89RovWlMwTANTVR0O_tVdybZwKBU1PlcGYZVpSOVjutx3iHNfWFoeOw1pGFPzD4eUht92I4cdg/s400/IMG_7555_2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594136104528560498" border="0" /></a><br />Ah, the rose balls. Everyone kept asking how long these took me to make. When I answered that it probably averaged 5-6 hours a piece, I think they changed their mind about making some for their daughters. :) Ha ha.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4TPXuWbom3aaEto0K9YWs5TKMls-7u1J3gUm95iOAUr1ZZwfvT10oqC43ASt6B3LKdDBu5ic1xbgNl2CMan2Z-nTuKV0eiCpKWTCkp5JS5BlSMFEnMHbeCdTtGkqc6W84fxKc9sZo4wA/s1600/IMG_7553_2.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4TPXuWbom3aaEto0K9YWs5TKMls-7u1J3gUm95iOAUr1ZZwfvT10oqC43ASt6B3LKdDBu5ic1xbgNl2CMan2Z-nTuKV0eiCpKWTCkp5JS5BlSMFEnMHbeCdTtGkqc6W84fxKc9sZo4wA/s400/IMG_7553_2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594136099468502642" border="0" /></a><br />The pillars again. I loved them so much. There were tulips (white, purple and pink) around too. You can see some of them on the pillars here. I didn't get any other pictures of them.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ2FMAeCKCJ5fXC8fs_jrvW3FckqlahngT_AXmQYkPDFk908QslqzVxtmom9LipRgYsPYB00b3-H8JFDmM6AZfFzy_EYL2wGRygJh7AV-bHMggWS7XrVQCRHQyr9yjccuMP9Xz_HHLAe0/s1600/IMG_7568.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ2FMAeCKCJ5fXC8fs_jrvW3FckqlahngT_AXmQYkPDFk908QslqzVxtmom9LipRgYsPYB00b3-H8JFDmM6AZfFzy_EYL2wGRygJh7AV-bHMggWS7XrVQCRHQyr9yjccuMP9Xz_HHLAe0/s400/IMG_7568.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594135196330429234" border="0" /></a><br />The gift table. Yeah, she got a lot. :)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIRNp5XFI-vmjaLWXoyboKndFeIzQF5EJdlU0lp6849juu6H1CQN9wX9rQpFZ-CSEpQIn9H-f-52laqzEEfuLMAf7GzCXYJRUyBWzFX9hDx6-jhLRDaVtzxEyRwJw4nU4RR1Qroy6W2jc/s1600/IMG_7569_2.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIRNp5XFI-vmjaLWXoyboKndFeIzQF5EJdlU0lp6849juu6H1CQN9wX9rQpFZ-CSEpQIn9H-f-52laqzEEfuLMAf7GzCXYJRUyBWzFX9hDx6-jhLRDaVtzxEyRwJw4nU4RR1Qroy6W2jc/s400/IMG_7569_2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594135193795610210" border="0" /></a><br />Opening the blanket that I had my beautiful and talented friend Stacy make me... I mean her. :)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH0CfEilpGrqqpwfO1L1-k5hZne_ldUOhNfUW49gdWzfiL5o4LUHii_g6EwYp5jcxvdiTIUF-egoUbmnSa7Fn916gCdPocelLK4L2pH1OL_ZbumOIRMrK9mZRG94Kwk62Vvs2aBSgE3uE/s1600/IMG_7610.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH0CfEilpGrqqpwfO1L1-k5hZne_ldUOhNfUW49gdWzfiL5o4LUHii_g6EwYp5jcxvdiTIUF-egoUbmnSa7Fn916gCdPocelLK4L2pH1OL_ZbumOIRMrK9mZRG94Kwk62Vvs2aBSgE3uE/s400/IMG_7610.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5594135185761542402" border="0" /></a>So that was it. It was fun and exhausting and I went out to Chinese food with my Aunt who came into town for the shower and my parents that night cause I refused to cook anything. My fortune cookie said, "Today is a good day to have some relaxation." Thank you Confucius. I know. :)<br /><br />A BIG thanks to Mom who helped me with everything, sanity, food prep and money. And to LeAnne for hosting it at her place, and for making the cutest sugar cookies ever!<br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc7DPN92mPAOtsmM6PJoMImvd7uZKn7LmC6XlRTeALA_EvUI1S4lKzP7RgCK5Ahqmm-mrWepfYVRqH2q2VxobFFeSOvL0w2CSiIPV9tf7zoWwOfbOur4LP5NHCGcoQGmt_EBBPVq5dm-o/s1600/IMG_7619.JPG"><br /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3983907172384738663.post-18911303475277035452011-04-06T14:37:00.006-06:002011-04-06T14:50:42.039-06:00SO FAR...<div style="text-align: center;">So this is what the rose balls ended up looking like, plus the "k" wreath I made for the front door. Let me know what you think.<br /><br />The hanging rose Balls<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4c2gXP_6JdrzfmyMtnCs66yHlrW4LkHWWOpALEVGzsuKA9n0T6GqEtPFsVH_HiBc16XxeCAf21GoLXOAQ3OsuJtuW6JuEXVZe9y6LUIlo0DcoaKblf2iKtfIM63Qdpyx7OsSJV6so1ck/s1600/IMG_0666.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 298px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4c2gXP_6JdrzfmyMtnCs66yHlrW4LkHWWOpALEVGzsuKA9n0T6GqEtPFsVH_HiBc16XxeCAf21GoLXOAQ3OsuJtuW6JuEXVZe9y6LUIlo0DcoaKblf2iKtfIM63Qdpyx7OsSJV6so1ck/s400/IMG_0666.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5592574595148044482" border="0" /></a>The 'K' made out of cupcake Liners<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAeSwpLFTP-AcBK-sgAnh4YTanjvm6F6JYggM_fyYIC8Zl5lcVWmqHGg-m9yU9rVRyFhO-Rk-KWJC4x1AdpzB-yKiYc0zbrk39FlWJaQuVRL12M_33i3dSlUg4jeygpxbswK1Czw2qZpg/s1600/IMG_0664.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 298px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAeSwpLFTP-AcBK-sgAnh4YTanjvm6F6JYggM_fyYIC8Zl5lcVWmqHGg-m9yU9rVRyFhO-Rk-KWJC4x1AdpzB-yKiYc0zbrk39FlWJaQuVRL12M_33i3dSlUg4jeygpxbswK1Czw2qZpg/s400/IMG_0664.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5592574598692273394" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Closer Look. I don't know how I feel about it. I keep wondering what I can do to improve it....<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZA2ZInWPmYZz0w9ANHBulQnx4HQcJ3y9j3vH1kv9jlqFxqugQmZvYV4t8CPCs2rX513xZkn1Fbht0iqjhszc9-cuQcY_zj91cysPG77o3jbL5cz36my2dblwvHk1In84fYqyuaLstLb8/s1600/IMG_0665.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 298px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZA2ZInWPmYZz0w9ANHBulQnx4HQcJ3y9j3vH1kv9jlqFxqugQmZvYV4t8CPCs2rX513xZkn1Fbht0iqjhszc9-cuQcY_zj91cysPG77o3jbL5cz36my2dblwvHk1In84fYqyuaLstLb8/s400/IMG_0665.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5592574608578864594" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />One of the rose balls with a filter on it. I love it cause I think that it looks like real roses. :)<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu17GKGDUjrhmIq4RCM65NAinMCGh4dRYV12mQ7BJLYNg4HnYycw_EOeM0AWdNFIaPTtIKOofwTityvS0bZMF0Glag-7oHoJEOqBB-3lBpzCuADs3BuoyyjujeDD2I55XudVfHqk4zz64/s1600/IMG_0685.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu17GKGDUjrhmIq4RCM65NAinMCGh4dRYV12mQ7BJLYNg4HnYycw_EOeM0AWdNFIaPTtIKOofwTityvS0bZMF0Glag-7oHoJEOqBB-3lBpzCuADs3BuoyyjujeDD2I55XudVfHqk4zz64/s400/IMG_0685.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5592574715889430338" border="0" /></a><br />What do you think? I made the slush stuff last night and I'll take pictures of what the shower ends up looking like. I hope it looks as good as I want it to. : )Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3983907172384738663.post-27206329466793959382011-03-30T13:58:00.007-06:002011-03-31T10:16:17.078-06:00What I've been doing with my spare time....This.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib5BHFGyism836rUVUTXEGuHNL6g8-FG2nwqpPhJWpuWb2fgLXFaHVdOuPmHkI-3HKcIK1h2GALs4wEEWaJBWNUb3v-Ppb5OfqEQAHBXRgHRQPjCieWDs6d2ZKNxrDdPWQelr3paVl3po/s1600/IMG_0642.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEib5BHFGyism836rUVUTXEGuHNL6g8-FG2nwqpPhJWpuWb2fgLXFaHVdOuPmHkI-3HKcIK1h2GALs4wEEWaJBWNUb3v-Ppb5OfqEQAHBXRgHRQPjCieWDs6d2ZKNxrDdPWQelr3paVl3po/s400/IMG_0642.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590277694223923938" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><br /><br />I'm making roses out of crepe paper that will go onto a ball and hung at Melissa's Baby Shower. Yes it takes FOREVER. And yes, I burn my fingers constantly. But she is going to have the best freaking baby shower ever.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXE6ov25LW3w1xsgQKgD3uFmSdL7xUCjJpRvb66sDu4BxvUQOFhtApi1SrUtLq4Rk3hSzB1HyH4LBBm57WtZxTTPu15dzXB_q28TwdtOViQmHEwVpL6EahfS8u2TO-b40Lx75016eslJE/s1600/IMG_0645.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 299px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXE6ov25LW3w1xsgQKgD3uFmSdL7xUCjJpRvb66sDu4BxvUQOFhtApi1SrUtLq4Rk3hSzB1HyH4LBBm57WtZxTTPu15dzXB_q28TwdtOViQmHEwVpL6EahfS8u2TO-b40Lx75016eslJE/s400/IMG_0645.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5590277695727661042" /></a><br /><br />It is supposed to end up looking like this...<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGgy6bsuTUqLl7ea1Rm_qdzwk0_ydxFeGbZLWtKxhRS2A78ur6-N1JdcASZEt3mdMcNev2KALhLUgnSy_0KZ0yre6_juOSkxwr7nxFPKqCgqMa56JeRml2kG0xVK0DJJKASgUpTS3iCfg/s1600/Girls%252BMOSTLY%252Bfinished%252Broom%252B006.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGgy6bsuTUqLl7ea1Rm_qdzwk0_ydxFeGbZLWtKxhRS2A78ur6-N1JdcASZEt3mdMcNev2KALhLUgnSy_0KZ0yre6_juOSkxwr7nxFPKqCgqMa56JeRml2kG0xVK0DJJKASgUpTS3iCfg/s400/Girls%252BMOSTLY%252Bfinished%252Broom%252B006.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5589968025152448338" border="0" /></a><br /><br />We'll see... Hehe. It's the thought that counts right?<br /><br />Her little girl is going to be so precious and I just can't wait. :)<br /><br />Oh yeah. This is also what has been occupying my time...<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLng1H4I7QniQGWh-7yxyuNdr2pBIE2r20nn3Pbn5KAS3UyH0SIpsOxIsVubBcvUs6DXgcYyGhtvjVe2l5IuuV0q9dzQooZoe8Zd_vCww2F2bOpvEUSfB-F-bnkG42FlZCGikyi3BLbvU/s1600/IMG_0634.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLng1H4I7QniQGWh-7yxyuNdr2pBIE2r20nn3Pbn5KAS3UyH0SIpsOxIsVubBcvUs6DXgcYyGhtvjVe2l5IuuV0q9dzQooZoe8Zd_vCww2F2bOpvEUSfB-F-bnkG42FlZCGikyi3BLbvU/s400/IMG_0634.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5589966343388572914" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Hanging out with the cutest little girl in the world. I love this kid. Seriously. LeAnne called when I had her and asked if she needed to come pick her up and I asked her if she was sure that this was her child and not mine. I think there was a mixup. We ate popcorn and watched Anastasia. Did I mention that we sang along with it. She quotes the movie and everything. Love love love.<br /><br />I found her in bed with these when I was making popcorn. She had found some chocolate in our room. And just helped herself. Thieving little hands. Love her.<br /></div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEa_LCmQnMg7BP_TboSJTEIn5Oi5J0wg92f_t1w1Btz1mXHKINuPuRNLuUydcV7_IoNj0qJ17AdfuG4wbbfKdzJm0wuT_LO-C8Dj0ZU8cGiWPG06cPR7e2fZP8JoCxd7MTkC5QpBxHB8A/s1600/IMG_0613.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEa_LCmQnMg7BP_TboSJTEIn5Oi5J0wg92f_t1w1Btz1mXHKINuPuRNLuUydcV7_IoNj0qJ17AdfuG4wbbfKdzJm0wuT_LO-C8Dj0ZU8cGiWPG06cPR7e2fZP8JoCxd7MTkC5QpBxHB8A/s400/IMG_0613.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5589966352722706802" border="0" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3983907172384738663.post-42507728891974318562011-03-27T19:36:00.003-06:002011-03-27T19:39:45.181-06:00My excuseSo, this is my lame excuse for NOT blogging lately. <br /><br />1. I work. All day. Then I get home and have to try and talk my husband out of having me make him dinner. <br /><br />2. That doesn't work, so I have to figure out what to make.<br /><br />3. I'm busy trying to plan the most amazing baby shower the world has seen for my sister. Any idea? I'm a little bit of an over achiever, and highly competitive, so... keep that in mind. <br /><br />4. I'm trying to buy a house. With my husband. Which is... tiring. <br /><br />5. I don't have any pictures. And I hate blogging with out pictures. (and yes I know that I'm being highly hypocritical right now cause this post has no picture)<br /><br />6. I'll blog when I get something interesting to blog about. <br /><br />So to sum up. No baby news. No house news. Nothing. Nada. Sorry.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3983907172384738663.post-71544192858169168372011-03-03T16:33:00.003-07:002011-03-03T16:44:11.038-07:00Hum. Odd.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvTgPGYztulo6zgQyJxU0Tj-4YzkOJjp8_wPe6qj3vh7xdlgiyM59PR6MYMoWp6rZAUkc-9Nh-rMcLsEdvernDQMrmIAgPkfDVM5hYgqD_e8Her4b8TUn2E_3CirhxH6lP9s8v3KVGxqk/s1600/SANY0467.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvTgPGYztulo6zgQyJxU0Tj-4YzkOJjp8_wPe6qj3vh7xdlgiyM59PR6MYMoWp6rZAUkc-9Nh-rMcLsEdvernDQMrmIAgPkfDVM5hYgqD_e8Her4b8TUn2E_3CirhxH6lP9s8v3KVGxqk/s400/SANY0467.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580001412745165154" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzjgx57yNmtW_31u0eneO5XarpYyMfLU1of7C1FqHkxkuOV2RnnKpqVv-v3OibjOozXQ_C_1DY_AZKNtkA7sLt6ylt_v2JdjssbZq18F4SbujL5LCuVlaZ8Lmw7-UGyE_CvUGUZYUe_1M/s1600/102_0289.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzjgx57yNmtW_31u0eneO5XarpYyMfLU1of7C1FqHkxkuOV2RnnKpqVv-v3OibjOozXQ_C_1DY_AZKNtkA7sLt6ylt_v2JdjssbZq18F4SbujL5LCuVlaZ8Lmw7-UGyE_CvUGUZYUe_1M/s400/102_0289.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5580001117075505602" border="0" /></a><br /><br />You may ask, what is the difference between these two photos. Well one was taken by my friend Sian in 2004, the other was taken by Ben in 2007. Oddly, they both are at a 'special event' at Disneyworld. I say oddly because, having worked there and been there on vacation, it wasn't always a special event. But for some reason, this photo was taken at a special event. <br /><br />Also, I happen to be wearing a headband in both photos. I don't wear headbands often. Odd. <br /><br />My hands are in almost the exact same position. Odd. <br /><br />My head and body are turned different though. Also my hair is longer in the first one. <br /><br />I don't know. I thought that was odd. They also are very similar in my facial expression. I guess I just don't think you should smile in this particular pose. <br /><br />Like I said. Odd. <br /><br />That is my random rant for today.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3983907172384738663.post-2159938048099384012011-03-03T16:11:00.002-07:002011-03-03T16:21:33.455-07:00My husband<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6WmJd0UlLibXgOqqTaAp7KgDgaYhYT9xslwSRV61QpJGfOGx8xLmeHtSgGTbxeZ5K23VsxUkMY2CsgwmpF8713R-TBrqxGW2MzJkZJ4rpOGIAQBp3cLCAHe0L1MhQaTTbTYc5zYQteSM/s1600/SANY0493.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6WmJd0UlLibXgOqqTaAp7KgDgaYhYT9xslwSRV61QpJGfOGx8xLmeHtSgGTbxeZ5K23VsxUkMY2CsgwmpF8713R-TBrqxGW2MzJkZJ4rpOGIAQBp3cLCAHe0L1MhQaTTbTYc5zYQteSM/s400/SANY0493.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5579997775059476274" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: center;">Sometimes I have conversations with Ben and I think,<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">"You are the only man in the world who would've married me"</span><br /><br />You may think that is and odd thing to thing. But sometimes, I am so overcome with gratefulness for the man I married and that I can be completely my crazy and odd self with him. And he loves me the more for it.<br /><br />Our 5 year wedding anniversary is coming up next month and I can hardly believe that it has been five years. That's longer than high school, almost as long as college! ;) But definately my longest relationship. I couldn't say that for a while. Even after we got married cause... well I had boyfriends for a long time.... That's another story. Or stories. Haha.<br /><br />Anywho, love you babe!<br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3983907172384738663.post-58861550154760321992011-02-16T13:39:00.002-07:002011-02-16T13:48:04.731-07:00Yes, I know I don't have a house.So as some of you who see my posts on facebook, or my last post on my blog, I am recently obsessed with decorating my house. Yes, I know I don't have a house. Hence, the title of this post. And YES, I know I just used the word 'hence'. Oh the cleverness of me! (Peter Pan quote for any of you who don't know. And no not the Disney animated version it's the one... oh never mind).<br /><br />Back to the topic. Today I am obsessed with <a href="http://happyhappyhousewife.blogspot.com/2011/01/stenciled-ceiling.html">THIS</a>.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRuPRXiCwfURFn0Im9uA1S827mohBM7AZxL63MayjDI2JPdJHy_G1_LiiezoSF9-kWIRPDqFtx2NTkbQg2be8BL7rpi-na-bBGMz62N4JGSzFj6Rf4Lc73Z_I1M77tQhoImpWGhS0B-Dg/s1600/2room.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRuPRXiCwfURFn0Im9uA1S827mohBM7AZxL63MayjDI2JPdJHy_G1_LiiezoSF9-kWIRPDqFtx2NTkbQg2be8BL7rpi-na-bBGMz62N4JGSzFj6Rf4Lc73Z_I1M77tQhoImpWGhS0B-Dg/s400/2room.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5574391786643680802" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I think that I'm going to have to do something for Ben that will get me the permission I need to go all 'creative' on him when I do have a new house. Maybe I can have a baby or something. Yeah... that might work...<br /><br />So ANYWAY (Man I'm getting off topic today) <a href="http://happyhappyhousewife.blogspot.com/2011/01/stenciled-ceiling.html">This girl</a> took this amazing stencil and stenciled (correct phraseology?) her ceiling. I think that Ben MIGHT go for something like that. As long as it's not Pink (not my style anyway) or purple (DANG IT!).<br /><br />I am constantly amazed at the creativeness of the women of the world. My sister Michelle is one of those. She says she would gladly give that talent up if she could have mine (aka sing). I say, lets combine and create the perfect person! ;)<br /><br />Take a look and enjoy. Maybe YOU have a house, or an apartment that you can decorate and use some of these totally creative things in your life.<br /><br />As for me... I'll keep working on the baby thing so when I DO get my house, I can do whatever I want!! (insert evil laugh here!)<br /><br />Love to you all. (Especially those who leave me comments! )Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3983907172384738663.post-16243308043808558812011-02-08T15:42:00.004-07:002011-02-08T15:49:30.346-07:00ObsessedI'm totally obsessed with this shower curtain!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTFFM_uhbcxxjquMXmXdsYBJe1BXIqMWKt-5aWuqWk5YdJt2aMm4xsP-Zh1xPQjvD2bd0CHKZIsaCOvmNmoZUULQReT-0euRyDeSNmWMKwUMIIiPyKfg1EJ3pN3wEJh0XD3vKrPVi-J2M/s1600/020511_4520.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTFFM_uhbcxxjquMXmXdsYBJe1BXIqMWKt-5aWuqWk5YdJt2aMm4xsP-Zh1xPQjvD2bd0CHKZIsaCOvmNmoZUULQReT-0euRyDeSNmWMKwUMIIiPyKfg1EJ3pN3wEJh0XD3vKrPVi-J2M/s400/020511_4520.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5571453999902843346" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Leanne, a girl that I know from my Freshman year at BYU is so creative and she made it. BY HAND! She copied the idea from Anthropologie, and like I said, I'M OBSESSED!<br /><br /> I looked at Urban Outfitters and there was some bed spreads and other shower curtains similar, but Ben said NO to those. Said that he didn't want to sleep in a bed that took all the testosterone out of his body. Psh. Whatever. BUT he liked the one <span style="font-style: italic;">Leanne</span> made, so... either I have to buy the one from anthropologie which is SOOO expensive. OR, learn to sew. Seeing as neither of those things is going to happen.... I'll just admire Leanne's blog. :)<br /><br />In the meantime, I'll continue to dream of my house where I can decorate whatever the heck I want and Ben doesn't interfere.<br /><br />That is my rant for today. :)<br /><br />Here is the link for Leanne's blog. If you can sew (not me) or love creativity (me), you should read it and love it like I do.<br /><br /><a href="http://elleapparel.blogspot.com/">ELLE APPAREL </a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3983907172384738663.post-6957089124800019262011-02-07T21:52:00.003-07:002011-02-07T21:53:56.761-07:00You Know you're married when...You have a conversation about stomach issues and bowel movements (IN DETAIL) and you wonder... 'How did we ever get comfortable talking about this?'<br /><br />Ahhh..... LOVE.<br /><br />**Note to husbands, 7 days until Valentines Day! (HINT HINT)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3983907172384738663.post-13905395913151876112011-02-01T13:45:00.001-07:002011-02-01T13:46:25.145-07:00You know you're married when....You stay up until 11 o'clock sitting next to each other in bed playing Fruit Ninja on your iphones.<br /><br /><br />(Seriously, this happened last night)<br /><br />That's LOVE baby.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3983907172384738663.post-17251339958247137812011-01-31T20:19:00.003-07:002011-01-31T20:26:41.542-07:00Life in General.So, not much has been going on around here. Just life in general.<br /><br />Ben just went to Utah for 5 days and I missed him like crazy. I've also never been so jealous of him in my life. Eating at our favorite restaurants, doing fun things, and seeing our best friends. I don't think that I've ever said I love you, I miss you, You suck, so much in one sentence. :)<br /><br />I started working at Saber Transportation as the Administrative Manager, so far, I'm loving it.<br /><br />I'm still helping the kids at the High School with their play Much Ado About Nothing. I'll take some pics and post some soon.<br /><br />January marks the one year date that Ben and I have been trying to get pregnant, there are parts that make me sad that we're not, and at other times, grateful. I keep thinking, moving would've been awful if I was pregnant, I wouldn't have been able to do Fiddler, and now that my sister is pregnant and tiny to begin with, and has only gained 5 pounds, I'm grateful again that I'm not pregnant so that I don't compare myself with her. Haha. I know the Lord knows what he is doing and we'll just have to wait a little while longer for our little one to come. In the meantime, I'm enjoying being the favorite Aunt! :)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3983907172384738663.post-67290050574252630202011-01-03T14:17:00.009-07:002011-01-04T16:03:52.185-07:00Time passes by...<div style="text-align: center;">Gosh! So much time has passed, here are a few highlights.<br /><br /><br />Fiddler Ended.<br /><br />This was seriously one of the best experiences I've had. It was so much fun to be in a show again, to laugh and sing and get to act. Also, the people that were in the show were just incredible and became so much like a family to me. I miss them all dearly.<br /><br />Singing Matchmaker<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQGS8zpmz-ociyt-eAZmp3Zfkogy4XqVI2HxzBc9dp6QTcadd3hW4pAFsklSaSnPRwSMizV3EpJvD3vYh-qOiCGSHijgkddLJVYI-KASkzeEdyIcLHLxGFK6rmuiTdPVuLet0LSbtCA3Q/s1600/155168_167891026565328_100000332941707_436852_388804_n.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQGS8zpmz-ociyt-eAZmp3Zfkogy4XqVI2HxzBc9dp6QTcadd3hW4pAFsklSaSnPRwSMizV3EpJvD3vYh-qOiCGSHijgkddLJVYI-KASkzeEdyIcLHLxGFK6rmuiTdPVuLet0LSbtCA3Q/s400/155168_167891026565328_100000332941707_436852_388804_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558467530578851266" border="0" /></a>Pouting that Papa said No I can't marry Perchik.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigXGai-vML2XkeacnTUbeFS7v1DB4WznQ3fh2QCOmyvei9tML9xdYeuUSmFSCeOvAbK4putecLFDGeU1tRUZxy0HdIhD0-QlNUv5wkG9feHCVy9bh-h_tLwON4vwAwn7_NEw9xRomLwMg/s1600/76777_169250349762729_100000332941707_445540_673141_n.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigXGai-vML2XkeacnTUbeFS7v1DB4WznQ3fh2QCOmyvei9tML9xdYeuUSmFSCeOvAbK4putecLFDGeU1tRUZxy0HdIhD0-QlNUv5wkG9feHCVy9bh-h_tLwON4vwAwn7_NEw9xRomLwMg/s400/76777_169250349762729_100000332941707_445540_673141_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558467523861851810" border="0" /></a><br />First time Perchik and I connect with eachother<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu0ymDPu55F6cg_hZYv0MXN8UkjWfffOiyHRy-0PkHGRfwa5lsbQF2JfUJi0diP0CafqaFhWsoPSdsz0Cwf2LyiVsq_4Z-d4N4SX3h8YttXiCjB8miYfd2GVewLyQ_AnmHK_AM9kWCzW8/s1600/150037_168669749820789_100000332941707_441845_7161685_n.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu0ymDPu55F6cg_hZYv0MXN8UkjWfffOiyHRy-0PkHGRfwa5lsbQF2JfUJi0diP0CafqaFhWsoPSdsz0Cwf2LyiVsq_4Z-d4N4SX3h8YttXiCjB8miYfd2GVewLyQ_AnmHK_AM9kWCzW8/s400/150037_168669749820789_100000332941707_441845_7161685_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558467519863339170" border="0" /></a>Backstage. Yeah, he likes to make weird faces.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKFBNW4VWcnesXTFxQfqLuU77gwbwizj5zNAYHoP1ae0YXeTo2EoczsBcP4urdVXF9xXtzXwLzvAMcTofm5zmT_J0FTnVzILVnl_gvSZyQ-GjKvidSocsq_lYOy-7oJguqlKPDPmUcZuY/s1600/IMG_1361.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKFBNW4VWcnesXTFxQfqLuU77gwbwizj5zNAYHoP1ae0YXeTo2EoczsBcP4urdVXF9xXtzXwLzvAMcTofm5zmT_J0FTnVzILVnl_gvSZyQ-GjKvidSocsq_lYOy-7oJguqlKPDPmUcZuY/s400/IMG_1361.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558467517345079618" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Singing 'Far From the Home I Love' with Fred (Tevye)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGu7Ev8o0QJXzXRN4V8jHOKLPJZQTW4qYb24UCYEiJcyoN02TkYbPJXi7L0wXZO_bE_JEUmszEa7E5ZN-qxaxetfCD-RySUfbf77Dms12OED0WvSlVkgCWS-4Amr8h0bRQs0cAC-lY6eo/s1600/76958_167891569898607_100000332941707_436869_1722877_n.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGu7Ev8o0QJXzXRN4V8jHOKLPJZQTW4qYb24UCYEiJcyoN02TkYbPJXi7L0wXZO_bE_JEUmszEa7E5ZN-qxaxetfCD-RySUfbf77Dms12OED0WvSlVkgCWS-4Amr8h0bRQs0cAC-lY6eo/s400/76958_167891569898607_100000332941707_436869_1722877_n.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558074075280177506" border="0" /></a>The Three Sisters. How much I love and miss these girls!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgseeyRqrF3HcLExc6I4zIcIX7ydZDdm_BceWbWvNRA-Wq0q0MUY9VtZHzBZmDBB1HAwLE2x4z6FVh4V7KtZ6-n7djrCC63uKQcGkwiz9O_f6Up0L6G6voBj0nC5g8x6FHGMcrCvyV6f3A/s1600/IMG_1348.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgseeyRqrF3HcLExc6I4zIcIX7ydZDdm_BceWbWvNRA-Wq0q0MUY9VtZHzBZmDBB1HAwLE2x4z6FVh4V7KtZ6-n7djrCC63uKQcGkwiz9O_f6Up0L6G6voBj0nC5g8x6FHGMcrCvyV6f3A/s400/IMG_1348.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558073764963538466" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Went to Disney World AND Harry Potter World! Here are some picture highlights. All of them are posted on facebook. My friend Say Jay was AMAZING. She still works down there, and was able to get us in for free during our trip. Ben only had to pay for one day because he flew in during the middle of the day. :) WE LOVE HER!<br /><br />Superhero pose!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwiyTkoEPmK2cjMDcyIcbxxyfW7Iw0peNUTgMGkMGGn8CqcdYpkjqa9A4umDg6cup1XTw9mYiTDh_Nn6vGqS0wkKuKhDi4pj7-9owscFk6kDZZxM2P7h_wSEwoi2cRc4nqskjDoyx_zJE/s1600/IMG_1649.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwiyTkoEPmK2cjMDcyIcbxxyfW7Iw0peNUTgMGkMGGn8CqcdYpkjqa9A4umDg6cup1XTw9mYiTDh_Nn6vGqS0wkKuKhDi4pj7-9owscFk6kDZZxM2P7h_wSEwoi2cRc4nqskjDoyx_zJE/s400/IMG_1649.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558464871496375106" border="0" /></a>Oregon Ducks Number One!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtUizSc_lLQ2XhoWvjAl07c2RTs69wqSvnWpiv1cTxEy2n6OfbUWeAmZ3kHM1cAYCJowLRIlPiaaZcPXJp5AaU_A3DuBa1YIhYG8Jz_NoqO7xp00TEoF0pNYLGKFlX8eyNFoCwt8V8muw/s1600/IMG_1117.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtUizSc_lLQ2XhoWvjAl07c2RTs69wqSvnWpiv1cTxEy2n6OfbUWeAmZ3kHM1cAYCJowLRIlPiaaZcPXJp5AaU_A3DuBa1YIhYG8Jz_NoqO7xp00TEoF0pNYLGKFlX8eyNFoCwt8V8muw/s400/IMG_1117.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558464864194919938" border="0" /></a>Trapped on a broken down space mountain. The second time it happened on our trip.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAiB8nonPJearv9fwmjUToDYNWTT4k-M9U9FCRb1vTKccPyvhkqDjFR9C27SUvWIiN9cY7yD7-9yydVqFrk15PB0l2caBeC_FNIIqy_4oA1KyovXGpNblOH4_LgN9aAeL0nqUKLfwv3GY/s1600/IMG_1420.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAiB8nonPJearv9fwmjUToDYNWTT4k-M9U9FCRb1vTKccPyvhkqDjFR9C27SUvWIiN9cY7yD7-9yydVqFrk15PB0l2caBeC_FNIIqy_4oA1KyovXGpNblOH4_LgN9aAeL0nqUKLfwv3GY/s400/IMG_1420.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558464860939554706" border="0" /></a>The whole crew! Becky & Adam, Mom, Ben & Me!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFjBbAk97n8Y1cA7S0RpqdJb7Zb0l_CqkAliqgm5WDIZ-d32iect0mpqgT9Kj9T33mYKKi1HxDIlhI9Beezqw1n9sJ-N2U4C8w6dC4pXy-pla93Hiwt36c_EJMgBWeHZ9uqBBjGC6H-oU/s1600/IMG_1369.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFjBbAk97n8Y1cA7S0RpqdJb7Zb0l_CqkAliqgm5WDIZ-d32iect0mpqgT9Kj9T33mYKKi1HxDIlhI9Beezqw1n9sJ-N2U4C8w6dC4pXy-pla93Hiwt36c_EJMgBWeHZ9uqBBjGC6H-oU/s400/IMG_1369.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558464856649214146" border="0" /></a>It was 29 degrees that day. So we all bought our Harry Potter scarves. Yup. I'm a Ravenclaw. No use pretending. I know its 'cool' to be Griffindor, but I cannot deny who I am. PERSONALLY, I think Mom has a little Slytherine in her... but that's just me. :)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGg5Ehpwx7fivI6YD4uczNQhnweY4n86ZAJ_7DZZj0E1dnU5macdOyqL_D5CNNTLmgqg4jmQVS9HgTbegTxvpJoXUg0zxBF0fHYkjd7QyLn20YSMml2oprgrFyFNYzY7uLiIKk1M4hdKc/s1600/IMG_1055.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGg5Ehpwx7fivI6YD4uczNQhnweY4n86ZAJ_7DZZj0E1dnU5macdOyqL_D5CNNTLmgqg4jmQVS9HgTbegTxvpJoXUg0zxBF0fHYkjd7QyLn20YSMml2oprgrFyFNYzY7uLiIKk1M4hdKc/s400/IMG_1055.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558464849710596146" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />Waiting for FANTASMIC to start. Can you tell by the look on his face he thinks I'm nuts. I can. :)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4n4qrfQDgAiJF2yOq9exXwPTMYExbuIJy44YUKnP4fwVPaiux4EBosGqMPbNf82hIVqaV3weKlsIlLgFHbUIMwb7i4PvXhQW3jDbE3-v_8PFyUkZhVYiOu9_PImW6YH7AOSpv3ARDNDA/s1600/IMG_1490.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4n4qrfQDgAiJF2yOq9exXwPTMYExbuIJy44YUKnP4fwVPaiux4EBosGqMPbNf82hIVqaV3weKlsIlLgFHbUIMwb7i4PvXhQW3jDbE3-v_8PFyUkZhVYiOu9_PImW6YH7AOSpv3ARDNDA/s400/IMG_1490.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558075324101873282" border="0" /></a><br />Adam and I in Pixie Hallow flying with the fairies. This is where Ben decided to start calling Adam Fairy Gary.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidc7s4NQ6Gh5Q1DUfjOpaRSy62s0YGYsMOhqcM4v421dfFJPAHn1NwE_5sz7fAilyMcdZWf-9FmW3HD7Joy-vQs43V_w3xYpvjWGhM4gp1jqUmrlOKywCZRacy3OY-Rjk7H1TUtVwSFTA/s1600/IMG_1436.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidc7s4NQ6Gh5Q1DUfjOpaRSy62s0YGYsMOhqcM4v421dfFJPAHn1NwE_5sz7fAilyMcdZWf-9FmW3HD7Joy-vQs43V_w3xYpvjWGhM4gp1jqUmrlOKywCZRacy3OY-Rjk7H1TUtVwSFTA/s400/IMG_1436.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558075321442885634" border="0" /></a><br />Ben's favorite part of Disney World. The FOOD. Here he is at like 10 am with a funnel cake.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEherzV8rTRSvvcZdlX17XaNwBU7X2RdrAtqZrcsUEO5xIcjCCk9hVJ2qe8rzTB9crofqyXIFhCvn5GkF2ljyKABJGj3yHfiTC3ETwRLoLkvgts_hzFCDWpPe1vqjTqFXc8bGyV0qtZJJR4/s1600/IMG_1386.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEherzV8rTRSvvcZdlX17XaNwBU7X2RdrAtqZrcsUEO5xIcjCCk9hVJ2qe8rzTB9crofqyXIFhCvn5GkF2ljyKABJGj3yHfiTC3ETwRLoLkvgts_hzFCDWpPe1vqjTqFXc8bGyV0qtZJJR4/s400/IMG_1386.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558075316617931122" border="0" /></a><br />Our picture with Vidia the newest girl fairy. She had lots of attitude. Basically, we loved her.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGTwGcQAUhDHe5XEp3u_Sv-WtkvxY_BvPdylxv_KhzD54pGWCwJfRKLrKGeJdbKYB1uUTHlvtjG0WFzYQytyYSbT2fnlWvW3-Quz4khmfaLUfoH-nWj8pjyDzjp85i18g_noVc3vs8mQQ/s1600/IMG_1447.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGTwGcQAUhDHe5XEp3u_Sv-WtkvxY_BvPdylxv_KhzD54pGWCwJfRKLrKGeJdbKYB1uUTHlvtjG0WFzYQytyYSbT2fnlWvW3-Quz4khmfaLUfoH-nWj8pjyDzjp85i18g_noVc3vs8mQQ/s400/IMG_1447.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558075311127421362" border="0" /></a><br />Me with Ollivander the wand maker at Harry Potter World.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvQg263sdipQdvBDaSyQeYy6M67uJDKaasVE08chJz1vqqLvDfX03o6mUbj71YRSY3x8tKI2qsS3jDDGCghnFshlQ4e6UilIZjj6wvgdIeDIkIzds3NZNVCNSuanLokEzUmujzXiUJOe0/s1600/IMG_1574.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvQg263sdipQdvBDaSyQeYy6M67uJDKaasVE08chJz1vqqLvDfX03o6mUbj71YRSY3x8tKI2qsS3jDDGCghnFshlQ4e6UilIZjj6wvgdIeDIkIzds3NZNVCNSuanLokEzUmujzXiUJOe0/s400/IMG_1574.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558075302176479026" border="0" /></a><br />Ben is working hard and I am still looking for work. I am working right now on trying to substitute for the High School and I am helping out after school with the High School's play 'Much Ado About Nothing' It's so much fun being their acting coach. :)<br /><br /><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com9