<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2591358282468517256</id><updated>2012-02-13T17:52:12.632-08:00</updated><title type='text'>This is the Day...</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03154664827712498093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SZwmTxyKKBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/4LzMT52wARI/S220/Maine.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>38</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2591358282468517256.post-2411724655084473594</id><published>2011-12-13T18:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-13T18:36:06.517-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Beauty of Christ</title><content type='html'>A friend sent this my way...I love it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mary's Song&lt;br /&gt;by Lucy Shaw&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blue homespun and the bend of my breast&lt;br /&gt;keep warm this small hot naked star&lt;br /&gt;fallen to my arms. (Rest ...&lt;br /&gt;you who have had so far&lt;br /&gt;to come.) Now nearness satisfies&lt;br /&gt;the body of God sweetly. Quiet he lies&lt;br /&gt;whose vigour hurled&lt;br /&gt;a universe. He sleeps&lt;br /&gt;whose eyelids have not closed before.&lt;br /&gt;His breath (so slight it seems&lt;br /&gt;no breath at all) once ruffled the dark deeps&lt;br /&gt;to sprout a world.&lt;br /&gt;Charmed by dove's voices, the whisper of straw,&lt;br /&gt;he dreams,&lt;br /&gt;hearing no music from his other spheres.&lt;br /&gt;Breath, mouth, ears, eyes&lt;br /&gt;he is curtailed&lt;br /&gt;who overflowed all skies,&lt;br /&gt;all years.&lt;br /&gt;Older than eternity, now he&lt;br /&gt;is new. Now native to earth as I am, nailed&lt;br /&gt;to my poor planet, caught that I might be free,&lt;br /&gt;blind in my womb to know my darkness ended,&lt;br /&gt;brought to this birth&lt;br /&gt;for me to be new-born,&lt;br /&gt;and for him to see me mended&lt;br /&gt;I must see him torn.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2591358282468517256-2411724655084473594?l=psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/feeds/2411724655084473594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2011/12/beauty-of-christ.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/2411724655084473594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/2411724655084473594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2011/12/beauty-of-christ.html' title='The Beauty of Christ'/><author><name>Monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03154664827712498093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SZwmTxyKKBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/4LzMT52wARI/S220/Maine.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2591358282468517256.post-4111917864782485328</id><published>2011-12-11T09:15:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-11T09:32:47.803-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Doing the thing...</title><content type='html'>I've been struggling with doing the thing.  You know, the living life well thing?  I feel as though my life is in a perpetual state of chaos.  Ughhhhh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I am asking God to bring order into my life.  There are a few things I really long to do well and I am asking Him to help me prioritize.  I know He is faithful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1)  I want to really seek Him and know Him, you know, the Creator, our Everlasting Father, our Provider, the Prince of Peace, the Ancient One, you know, that One?  I want to know Him...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2)  I want to glorify Him...not as an act of show, not to please Him, but because He is worthy.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3)  I want to hide His Word in my heart AND I want His Spirit to begin to instill in the hearts of my kiddos a love for His Word as they begin to hide it in their hearts as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4)  I long for my home to be a place of refuge, a sanctuary, a place where people experience the presence of the Holy Spirit and can rest.  I long for that for my husband, our children, the people we have into our home, me...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5)  I want to live more simply.  Yes, I mean, stuff and activities, and whatever it takes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6)  I want to sacrificially love people...even more than I love myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7)  I want to laugh.  Every.single.day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2591358282468517256-4111917864782485328?l=psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/feeds/4111917864782485328/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2011/12/doing-thing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/4111917864782485328'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/4111917864782485328'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2011/12/doing-thing.html' title='Doing the thing...'/><author><name>Monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03154664827712498093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SZwmTxyKKBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/4LzMT52wARI/S220/Maine.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2591358282468517256.post-5154501890419701522</id><published>2011-11-16T05:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-16T06:17:04.133-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting Motivated...</title><content type='html'>So, a few of the items on my list of things I'd love to do are the following...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1)  Make matching pajamas for the family for Christmas.  Seriously, can we say, "Cheese!!!"?  Regardless, I think it would be fun and if I don't get on the ball, my boys will be old enough to say, "No way, Mom, we ARE NOT wearing matching Christmas tree jammies!".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) Cut, roll and hot glue pages from books to make dozens and dozens of flowers that will adorn a wreath form.  The finished wreath would be so, so cute!  Think the hubby would mind cutting and hot gluing while we vegged on the couch in the evenings???  Hmm...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Applique Christmas dishtowels for, well, for Christmas.  I saw some of the cutest for sale for $21 each.  No, that is NOT a typo, $21, EACH.  Dollar store, here I come.  I can buy two flour sack thingies for $1 and some fun Christmas fabric with a 50% off coupon and voila, darling dishtowels.  If you get some as a gift, act surprised!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) Embroider and applique some onesies for the blessed abundance of new babies in my life...mary,ian,olivia,eve,micah,brooke,benjamin,ariana.  For a couple of those sweet baby girls I want to do tutus and Christmas onesies. Adorable!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) Sew a silky blanket for my baby.  His brother and sister both have two, in case one needs washed of course, and he only has one.  Poor little guy has to cozy a chew toy with a silky corner if his is in the wash.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) Make wool dryer balls, for me, Mom, and my sister-in-law.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7) Read my book club book before the afternoon of book club...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8)  Get up out of this chair so I can feed my children, finish the mountains of laundry, iron clothes for the love of my life, empty the trash, feed my children again, pack for a trip...well, those are things I have to do, rather than want to do, but I'd best get moving on them, or the other will always only be a dream.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2591358282468517256-5154501890419701522?l=psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/feeds/5154501890419701522/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2011/11/getting-motivated.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/5154501890419701522'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/5154501890419701522'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2011/11/getting-motivated.html' title='Getting Motivated...'/><author><name>Monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03154664827712498093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SZwmTxyKKBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/4LzMT52wARI/S220/Maine.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2591358282468517256.post-5932946398225206881</id><published>2011-11-11T21:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-11T23:15:55.103-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Midnight Musings...</title><content type='html'>It's midnight...I should be in bed, but my mind doesn't seem to want to shut down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My hubby graduates from seminary with his Master of Divinity in five weeks.  Seriously, in just five short weeks, we will be done.  The last three and a half years have been hard, really, really hard.  But, our God is faithful and I know He will redeem the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A dear friend from high school just brought home two precious babies from Uganda.  Two.precious.babies.  I cannot even begin to express what their journey has done to my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An old friend and his family serve with Samaritan's Purse in Kenya.  For the last several months he has been flying both people and supplies to a &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G_vOCGtimpI"&gt;refugee camp&lt;/a&gt; on the border of Sudan.  (I knew him while I lived in Nicaragua, where he flew flies.  That is another story for another day...) I cannot even begin to express what the story of these Sudanese refugees has done to my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I follow the blogs of a couple of women who are in Ecuador on a &lt;a href="http://compassionbloggers.com/trips/2011-ecuador"&gt;Compassion Blogging trip&lt;/a&gt;.  They have shared such beautiful stories of the children in Ecuador, children whose lives have been forever changed by the love of Jesus, because He has honored the faithfulness of Compassion International and the folks who have determined to partner with Compassion through &lt;a href="http://www.compassion.com/"&gt;sponsorship&lt;/a&gt;.  I cannot even begin to express what the pictures the bloggers have painted this past week have done to my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My kiddos and I have been collecting small gifts for &lt;a href="http://www.samaritanspurse.org/index.php/OCC/Pack_A_Shoe_Box/?hometab"&gt;Operation Christmas Child&lt;/a&gt; for the last several weeks.  Tonight we got together with some folks from church to pack our shoeboxes, wrap them, and pray over them.  Over the last few weeks we have watched YouTube videos of children scouring dumps for items that can be sold so their families can survive, videos of children who have treasured gifts that they have received for years after receiving them...and I have wept.  I cannot even begin to express what this opportunity for us to share with children from around the world has done to my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do not know what God has in store for us after graduation.  I do not know if He will redeem the last three and a half years by granting our family the privilege of serving in an orphanage in Africa or by bringing little ones into our family through adoption.  I do not know if His plan for our lives will include serving refugees on the border of Sudan or somewhere in the United States, this incredible country we live in that offers asylum to so many.  Maybe He will redeem the time by pouring out our lives into the lives of children who have been devastated by poverty.  I simply do not know, we do not know.  But, of this one thing I am certain...I cannot even begin to express what He has done to my heart.  And, I cannot wait to see what He will do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2591358282468517256-5932946398225206881?l=psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/feeds/5932946398225206881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2011/11/midnight-musings.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/5932946398225206881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/5932946398225206881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2011/11/midnight-musings.html' title='Midnight Musings...'/><author><name>Monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03154664827712498093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SZwmTxyKKBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/4LzMT52wARI/S220/Maine.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2591358282468517256.post-5321510560280425484</id><published>2011-07-11T13:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-07-12T13:01:25.590-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday Twelve</title><content type='html'>1)  It's hot here this summer...hot, hot, hot.  AND, our pool has sprung a leak.  What a bummer!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2)  I've made my own toothpaste, am using rubbing alcohol instead of deodorant, vinegar instead of rinse in the washer, and am loving my clothesline, well, sometimes loving my clothesline.  I also have plans to make my own laundry detergent and hope to wash my hair and the kids' with baking soda and rinsing with vinegar.  Who knew I was such a granola?!  I may begin wearing patchouli oil too.  (Just teasing, Babe!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3)  My girl starts swim lessons in a couple of weeks...it is time, but I'm a little bit anxious.  Thank goodness she doesn't know enough to be anxious yet.  She's just excited and intent on "teaching Bubby how to swim" once she learns.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4)  A friend asked my boy what his favorite thing to play with was.  His reply, "My dad."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5)  Speaking of playing with Dad, the two of them worked to put in a patio of sorts for our grill.  They worked so hard, the littlest man lugging around a sledge hammer and giving his daddy water, the biggest man, carefully lining up pavers in the incredibly hot Texas sun.  They are the two hardest working guys I have ever seen.  It looks amazing!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6)  We're trying to simplify our lives, getting rid of things we haven't used since moving here, three years ago.  So far, I've gone through several kitchen cabinets.  I need some motivation to carry on...I certainly don't want to look in the entryway in six months and see those same three boxes full of kitchen stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7)  My littlest has begun pushing a small child's chair around the house...forget the toy that is supposed to serve as a walker, he wants the chair.  He's going to be one in less than a month.  Seriously, how did that happen?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8)  Going to the grocery store takes the entire morning and every bit of my energy...and my kiddos are usually really good.  By the time I get the kids loaded in the car, to the grocery store, buy the goods, get them to the car and unloaded, kids buckled in their carseats, home, groceries to the house, kiddos out of their carseats, groceries put away...I'm tired even thinking about it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9)  Started a book club.  We're reading a book called, "One Thousand Gifts" by Ann Voskamp.  It is life-changing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10)  My girl's heart is being softened to sin and the sorrow it brings to the Father and to us, His children.  The other day she said, "It makes me so sad Jesus had to die on the cross for our sins."  Me too, little one, me too...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11)  Homesick for the cool mornings/evenings of Colorado, my sweet grandma, and my best friend...wish it wasn't so far and my kiddos weren't so little. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12)  I still want chickens...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2591358282468517256-5321510560280425484?l=psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/feeds/5321510560280425484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2011/07/tuesday-twelve.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/5321510560280425484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/5321510560280425484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2011/07/tuesday-twelve.html' title='Tuesday Twelve'/><author><name>Monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03154664827712498093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SZwmTxyKKBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/4LzMT52wARI/S220/Maine.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2591358282468517256.post-749817045990563484</id><published>2011-04-26T13:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-26T17:11:22.070-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday Twelve</title><content type='html'>1)  Well, my middle boy has pottied in many a public restroom.  I hate to admit it, but I stand him on the seat and just let him take aim.  However, we've never gone, ahem, number two.  Today, we attempted to, and shall we say, the floor, my son, and his very inept mommy, were all a little more damp when we left than when we arrived.  Lovely...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2)  My youngest son is the fastest "inch-wormer" I do believe I have ever seen.  Heaven help us when he finally figures out how to crawl!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3)  My husband has a paper due on Thursday, two finals, and then, for one short week, he will be completely ours.  After that, summer classes begin...we are looking forward to December.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4)  There are buds on my daisies.  We cannot wait until they begin blooming.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5)  We filled Easter eggs with candy and stickers for our church's Easter egg hunt last week.  I told the kids the church was inviting kids from the community who had not heard about Jesus and how much He loves them.  We prayed for the children who would be coming while we stuffed our eggs.  Then, Saturday morning, we gathered up our baskets and got ready to go to the church.  My daughter asked me why we were bringing our baskets.  I told her they were to hunt Easter eggs.  She said, ever so sweetly, "But Mama, those eggs are for the children who have never heard about Jesus."  How I love her...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6)  I have reenacted, told, or sung the story of David and Goliath at least 2,000 times.  I.am.not.kidding.  We even tell the story while sitting on the potty and my son, who is always Goliath, leans back as far as he can on the seat, dead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7)  I am struggling with consistency in my parenting.  'Nuff said...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8)  My husband gave me the most gorgeous pot of blue hydrangea for Easter.  I love hydrangea.  I'm tempted to plant them in a bigger pot, rather than in the ground, so, if graduation takes us away from Fort Worth, I can take my hydrangea with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9)  Speaking of moving...I long to live in the city.  I can think of all sorts of cities I'd love to move to one day.  I am a city girl.  However, I would like a garden, the kind of garden that will produce enough to really feed our family, fruits and veggies we can can, freeze, dry, etc., some chickens, fresh eggs you know, a couple of cows, and some goats, cows, to eventually eat, goats, because really, who doesn't want goats?  Oh, and a bunny, because my middle son loves, loves, loves his aunt's bunny.  Think I kind find a space in the city that will sustain all of that?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10)  I've found a Mexican restaurant that serves a dish called chilequiles for breakfast.  It's chicken and corn tortillas in a yummy tomatilla sauce.  It's delicious...I wonder if I can make it at home.  I could eat Mexican food every single meal.  If I had my dream garden I could at least make and can salsa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11)  We had the biggest hail I have ever seen last week.  There were several pieces that were bigger than golf balls.  It was a bit unnerving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12)  My middle boy just told me he was doing the potty dance, suppose I'd best go.  Hope we both stay dry!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2591358282468517256-749817045990563484?l=psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/feeds/749817045990563484/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2011/04/tuesday-twelve_26.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/749817045990563484'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/749817045990563484'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2011/04/tuesday-twelve_26.html' title='Tuesday Twelve'/><author><name>Monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03154664827712498093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SZwmTxyKKBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/4LzMT52wARI/S220/Maine.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2591358282468517256.post-1440196407023612396</id><published>2011-04-20T11:31:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-20T11:36:25.665-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Wordless Wednesday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-38ECnnKcX60/Ta8nGCY0ugI/AAAAAAAAANg/3ivFNhHu6IE/s1600/Susanna.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-38ECnnKcX60/Ta8nGCY0ugI/AAAAAAAAANg/3ivFNhHu6IE/s320/Susanna.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597735846518503938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Fcc2y_a9zfY/Ta8nFzKfP-I/AAAAAAAAANY/PWm--41OJqk/s1600/Nate.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Fcc2y_a9zfY/Ta8nFzKfP-I/AAAAAAAAANY/PWm--41OJqk/s320/Nate.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597735842431844322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-P9kCnkKjpsw/Ta8nFp3wluI/AAAAAAAAANQ/rz67SbqnDro/s1600/Joey.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-P9kCnkKjpsw/Ta8nFp3wluI/AAAAAAAAANQ/rz67SbqnDro/s320/Joey.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597735839937369826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2591358282468517256-1440196407023612396?l=psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/feeds/1440196407023612396/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2011/04/wordless-wednesday.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/1440196407023612396'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/1440196407023612396'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2011/04/wordless-wednesday.html' title='Wordless Wednesday'/><author><name>Monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03154664827712498093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SZwmTxyKKBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/4LzMT52wARI/S220/Maine.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-38ECnnKcX60/Ta8nGCY0ugI/AAAAAAAAANg/3ivFNhHu6IE/s72-c/Susanna.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2591358282468517256.post-6569173640004505563</id><published>2011-04-19T13:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-19T14:19:53.668-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday Twelve</title><content type='html'>1)  I have determined not to use my computer while the kiddos are awake...I've been using a dry erase board to jot down things I want to look up and saving the list for naptime or bedtime.  It's been a good thing, but I'm cheating right now.  Hope I'm quicker than usual!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2)  In the past week we have become a family where my oldest can buckle herself into her carseat, all.by.herself.  What a tremendous amount of freedom that brings.  I also realized we are now a family of one diapered kiddo, one sippy cup kiddo, and three kiddos who can feed themselves cheerios.  It's a new day at our place!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Bubby just asked his sister for some help and she responded, "Just a second, Bubby.  I'm strugglin' here.  I'm just strugglin'."  Wonder where she's heard that phrase?!  Actually, I can hear myself now, "Hold on a second, Sweetheart.  Mommy's struggling here."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4)  My boys are already the best of friends.  And, I think they're going to be trouble!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PXbv1PmpbZs/Ta3yw8opcjI/AAAAAAAAANI/kxEV6u_RN4o/s1600/BoysBotanicGarden.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PXbv1PmpbZs/Ta3yw8opcjI/AAAAAAAAANI/kxEV6u_RN4o/s320/BoysBotanicGarden.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597396834615652914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5)  We made an Easter Garden, to reflect on, and celebrate this season where we remember Christ's death on the cross and His resurrection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cSWGafXY_Mg/Ta3yAlXOGFI/AAAAAAAAAM4/FudYWUfYTk8/s1600/EasterGarden1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-cSWGafXY_Mg/Ta3yAlXOGFI/AAAAAAAAAM4/FudYWUfYTk8/s320/EasterGarden1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597396003734820946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it's going to be such a meaningful tradition for our family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zT_-aGe0ra0/Ta3vVrxwdqI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/T-X_FDTmkNU/s1600/EasterGarden2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-zT_-aGe0ra0/Ta3vVrxwdqI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/T-X_FDTmkNU/s320/EasterGarden2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5597393067699107490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6)  Somehow I deleted my pictures at least a half dozen times and had to upload them all over again (and again, and again).  Why is it so difficult?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7)  How we have loved watching new life in our garden...cucumbers and green beans coming up from seeds, flowers on a watermelon vine, with the promise of watermelons this fall, green tomatoes, and strawberries that have grown and ripened and been eaten.  As a matter of fact, I think we have a few out there right now that need to be picked by chubby little toddler hands and eaten, straight off the vine.  The Giver of Life has blessed us so richly and we are reminded daily. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8)  I put my youngest in his first pair of cloth diapers.  There is something about the bulk of a cloth diapered bottom.  He is a.d.o.r.a.b.l.e.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9)  My sweet husband got me a new pair of clippers for the yard and a new attachment for my hose that mists, showers, sprays, etc.  What joy they bring me!  He knows me so well.  Oh, the little things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10)  I have not become a finisher since my last post nor am I ripped.  I'm not discouraged though...today is a new day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11)  My husband and I love music, but you'd be hard-pressed saying either of us is musical.  I've been pondering what we can and should do in order to instill not simply a love of music in our kids, but maybe some skills, even at an early age...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12)  My kiddos are jumping up and down singing Jesus is alive...maybe I'll take a moment and join them!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2591358282468517256-6569173640004505563?l=psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/feeds/6569173640004505563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2011/04/tuesday-twelve_19.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/6569173640004505563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/6569173640004505563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2011/04/tuesday-twelve_19.html' title='Tuesday Twelve'/><author><name>Monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03154664827712498093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SZwmTxyKKBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/4LzMT52wARI/S220/Maine.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-PXbv1PmpbZs/Ta3yw8opcjI/AAAAAAAAANI/kxEV6u_RN4o/s72-c/BoysBotanicGarden.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2591358282468517256.post-2313518529920856096</id><published>2011-04-05T10:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-05T11:40:31.317-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday Twelve</title><content type='html'>1)  My sweet little girl has been sick.  She is on the mend, but was the sickest she has ever been.  In fact, the doctor told me this morning she is borderline dehydrated...what a horrible mommy I am!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2)  Additionally, my girl turned four.  What?!  I'm not sure how it happened, and not sure I like it!  She's growing up so fast.  What a delight she is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3)  We've planted a garden, a container garden, but a garden nonetheless.  AND, my middle guy has already enjoyed the first fruits, an overripe strawberry.  How we love watering everything  and watching it grow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4)  My husband's sweet mother was diagnosed with Alzheimer's just after we were married, almost five years ago.  She lost her battle against the dreadful disease last night.  She is rejoicing with the Savior, but there is much sadness here on earth.  How she will be missed!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5)  I'm trying desperately to be a finisher...I'm tired to death of starting things and never getting them finished, watermelon dresses, button "P's", owl art, matching batik tees, ruffle scarves, birthday banners, and so much more.  I'm going to do it.  One day at a time I'm going to do it.  Today, after I get some ironing out of the way, I am going to work on my batik tees.  Next week a pic!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6)  Speaking of finishing...check out my fabric canvas.  My mantle is on it's way to being completed!  Isn't that fabric fabulous?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GeRHL6mHkWw/TZtdYT1vi5I/AAAAAAAAAL4/9iT76Bs0nIU/s1600/IMG_0012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GeRHL6mHkWw/TZtdYT1vi5I/AAAAAAAAAL4/9iT76Bs0nIU/s320/IMG_0012.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5592166034534534034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7)  And, while we're at it, speaking of fabulous...aren't my candlesticks pretty fabulous as well?  Mom passed those on to me last time I was home.  They were her grandmothers.  I.love.them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8)  I started "Jillian Michaels Ripped in 30".  I'm not shooting for ripped, but I am hoping at the end of 30 days to be healthier than I am today!  It's a journey and I am hoping I will stay the course...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9)  How did I do life before I had a van with doors and a back hatch that all opened with the touch of a button?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10)  I'm trying to talk my husband into selling our house and buying a motor home once he's done with school.  I say let's travel the U.S. while we can...I don't know if he's game, but I've been internet shopping for the perfect home on wheels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11)  My middle son loves to play Lazarus...when I get him out of the tub at night I have to wrap him in his towel like he's a mummy so his daddy or I can say, in a really loud voice, "Lazarus, come out!"  He is such a joy!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12)  Once the baby is weaned I think I may try to get a job at Starbucks...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2591358282468517256-2313518529920856096?l=psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/feeds/2313518529920856096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2011/04/tuesday-twelve.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/2313518529920856096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/2313518529920856096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2011/04/tuesday-twelve.html' title='Tuesday Twelve'/><author><name>Monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03154664827712498093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SZwmTxyKKBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/4LzMT52wARI/S220/Maine.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GeRHL6mHkWw/TZtdYT1vi5I/AAAAAAAAAL4/9iT76Bs0nIU/s72-c/IMG_0012.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2591358282468517256.post-4405675861519576624</id><published>2011-01-18T13:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-18T21:21:47.578-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday Twelve</title><content type='html'>1)  A couple of weeks ago I got online and looked up 'women's Bible study + childcare + Fort Worth'.  I found a church just down the road that has a Bible study Tuesday mornings, with childcare.  It began last week, but I had sick kiddos.  This morning we were slow getting around, and even though I was a week behind and we were half an hour late, I loaded up the kids and took them.  I'm so glad I did...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2)  For the last few weeks when I have gotten my middle son out of bed he has told me his big toes hurt.  I've looked at them, kissed them, clipped his toenails.  Finally I realized he's outgrown his pajamas, the footies are too small.  What kind of mommy am I?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3)  I made homemade chicken noodle soup for the first time this weekend, yep, the first time.  My husband asked me if the recipe really was supposed to take all day to make.  I don't know if it was me or the recipe!  Regardless, it was good...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4)  My daughter has a pair of shoes that don't quite fit.  She keeps telling me, "These make my hips hurt, Momma."  (Ha!  That would be her heals!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5)  We bought the kids some toy cleaning items, a broom &amp;amp; dust pan, mop &amp;amp; bucket and a dust mop.  My daughter told me I no longer have to clean.  She and her brother will clean and I can take a nap.  If only it was so!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6)    I found some new bread at Wal-Mart, Sara Lee 45 Calories and Delightful.  Seriously, that's the name!  It.is.delightful.  I'm sad though; I mistakenly thought it was whole wheat.  It is not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7)  My daughter just started fastening herself into her car seat...thank you, Jesus!!  I still have to help her unfasten it, but she's doing great getting herself fastened.  How did she get so big?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8)  I backed into my husband's truck.  He was parked behind me, me in the garage, him directly outside the garage.  Seriously, how does a person miss a super-size, maroon, Toyota Tundra?!  Ugh...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9)  Naptime ritual with my middle son...he tells me, "I not get out of bed."  I ask, "What are you going to do when you wake up?"  He says, "I call you guys."  At night, similar exchange...he says, "I cry for you."  I tell him, "Don't cry for me."  And he asks, "You come get me?"  I tell him, "Absolutely, I'll come get you."  How I love him...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10)  After reading our Bible tonight I put my middle child into his crib and came back to my daughter's room to tuck her into her bed.  She, her dad and the baby were all waiting.  We played with the baby for a few minutes, resulting in  much laughter.  I eventually sent the baby with his dad for a bath, sang a song to my daughter and as I left her room heard my middle son calling me.  He was still awake and so sad.  He'd heard us all 'yucking it up' and asked, "I come with you guys?"  I felt so bad.  I took him to talk with baby as he prepared for his bath, tried to recreate some of the frivolity, but to no avail.  Poor little guy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11)  I'm going to the Fort Worth Home and Garden show this weekend...hope I come home with some ideas!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12)  A lawn crew stopped at our place today to see if they could rake the leaves in our front yard.  We have an oak tree whose branches are bigger than our house, not kidding...GORGEOUS!!  But, it does drop a lot of leaves.  A.lot.of.leaves.  Guess the kids and I'll try to get out tomorrow and rake some of them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2591358282468517256-4405675861519576624?l=psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/feeds/4405675861519576624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2011/01/tuesday-twelve_18.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/4405675861519576624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/4405675861519576624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2011/01/tuesday-twelve_18.html' title='Tuesday Twelve'/><author><name>Monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03154664827712498093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SZwmTxyKKBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/4LzMT52wARI/S220/Maine.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2591358282468517256.post-1368054317357661254</id><published>2011-01-13T07:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-13T08:17:12.994-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wordless Wednesday, on Thursday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/TS8kD9l5ITI/AAAAAAAAALs/7wXXQBNmedE/s1600/Nate.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/TS8kD9l5ITI/AAAAAAAAALs/7wXXQBNmedE/s320/Nate.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561703715317555506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/TS8kDoSDbOI/AAAAAAAAALk/ud9euec2ZS8/s1600/Playdough.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/TS8kDoSDbOI/AAAAAAAAALk/ud9euec2ZS8/s320/Playdough.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561703709597199586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/TS8kDcXWGwI/AAAAAAAAALc/8xtpd5eSWUY/s1600/JoePainting.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/TS8kDcXWGwI/AAAAAAAAALc/8xtpd5eSWUY/s320/JoePainting.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561703706398169858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2591358282468517256-1368054317357661254?l=psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/feeds/1368054317357661254/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2011/01/wordless-wednesday-on-thursday.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/1368054317357661254'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/1368054317357661254'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2011/01/wordless-wednesday-on-thursday.html' title='Wordless Wednesday, on Thursday'/><author><name>Monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03154664827712498093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SZwmTxyKKBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/4LzMT52wARI/S220/Maine.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/TS8kD9l5ITI/AAAAAAAAALs/7wXXQBNmedE/s72-c/Nate.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2591358282468517256.post-6076506127398414114</id><published>2011-01-12T12:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-12T12:37:24.180-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday Twelve, on Wednesday</title><content type='html'>1)  My middle son has started taking naps in his "car" bed, a twin bed with car sheets.  He's totally ready for it...I am not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2)  We have little ones in bed with us every night, and I like it that way...I feel guilty about loving toasty, soft, squirmy little bodies pressed up next to me, sharing my pillow and my space, like I'm much too submissive as a mommy.  Is there something wrong with me?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3)  I cooked with kale last week, love, love, loved it...this week, I branched out and tried beets.  Um, delicious, and oh so pretty.  I missed the opportunity to use the greens as well, but plan to next time.  Wish I had space for a garden!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4)  I haven't gotten to work on my mantle yet, but did make two scarves from jersey knit, matching scarves for a sweet friend of mine and her daughter.  They're adorable, if I do say so myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5)  My littlest has been sick for weeks, finally took him to the doctor and he has severe bronchitis, an ear infection, and a wheeze.  Bless his heart, what kind of mommy does he have?  He is the best baby, in the midst of spraying saline up his sweet nose, suctioning out buggies, giving him medicine, pounding on his back and lathering him with Vicks, he always has a smile.  Wish his mommy was as good natured...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6)  Oh.my.word, my house looks as though a tornado has struck.  I.am.not.kidding!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7)   I think my littlest is hungry.  He was just trying to suck on my chin.  He's almost ready to begin trying solid food.  He watches every move we make while we're eating.   I dread the thought!  Do they all have to keep growing up so fast?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8)  I want to begin reading books without pictures again, having adult conversations, using words with more than 2 syllables.  My pediatrician quoted Plato and I thought to myself, "Plato, I think I've heard of Plato, but what in the world is this guy talking about?"  He had to explain the quote to me, and while it sounded good, I'm still not sure I completely understood it.  Will my mommy brain ever function properly again?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9)  My phone line/data line went out for a day and a half...it was a blessed inconvenience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10)  Thinking about the people of Haiti today.  Is God pleased with our response to the people of that tiny country?  Not the people of the U.S., but the people in my immediate family.  Have we prayed faithfully, given sacrificially, served selflessly?  What has our role been?  What is it to be? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11)  Every time I hear stories of adoption I want to adopt.  Every.single.time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12)  I want to do something new before I turn 40.  I have just over a year.  Compete in a sprint triathlon?  Go to New York?  Dye my hair blond?  Get a tatoo??  Nah, just kidding about that last one!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2591358282468517256-6076506127398414114?l=psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/feeds/6076506127398414114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2011/01/tuesday-twelve-on-wednesday.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/6076506127398414114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/6076506127398414114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2011/01/tuesday-twelve-on-wednesday.html' title='Tuesday Twelve, on Wednesday'/><author><name>Monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03154664827712498093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SZwmTxyKKBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/4LzMT52wARI/S220/Maine.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2591358282468517256.post-8797206219160274769</id><published>2011-01-04T19:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-01-04T21:12:32.936-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday Twelve</title><content type='html'>1)  I just turned on a television show about Detroit, brought back some fun memories.  My husband and I visited Detroit our first year of marriage.  Believe it or not, several of the best museums I've ever been to were either in Detroit or right outside the city.  Additionally, Detroit has a great tram that circles downtown.  We loved the "tour", circled around several times.  That same year Charles went to Connecticut and initially I complained about missing out on Connect - I - cut and going to Detroit instead.  You know what, I'm glad I got to go to Motor City.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2)  My middle son is the hardest working thing I ever have seen.  He reminds me so much of his daddy...if I get the vacuum cleaner out he runs to get his as well.  Together, we vacuum.  He is meticulous, moves the furniture he can move, vacuums behind doors.  I'm telling you, he's going to make his future wife a happy woman!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3)  My mantel is bare.  I'm planning to use some fabulous fabric I bought last year, some pitchers I will paint white and some cool stick thingies I have to decorate it with.  My &lt;a href="http://fertilelychallenged.blogspot.com/"&gt;friend&lt;/a&gt; got a Compound Miter Saw and air compressor for Christmas she's planning to use to decorate at her place.  She's much more ambitious than I am.  I don't even know what a Compound Miter Saw is.  I am planning to use my husband's staple gun.  That's pretty wild and crazy for me.  I'm going to staple that fabulous fabric I got to a frame, wha-la, instant art.  Maybe I'll post a picture when I'm done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4)  Dad goes in Thursday for the results from his biopsy.  We're ready to know what is next...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5)  We're battling food issues at our place.  I've always been a bit prideful about how well my kiddos eat, serves me right.  I am determined to stand firm; trouble is, so are they. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6)  I tried to make a pot of pinto beans today, pinto beans from the pinto bean capitol of the world, Dove Creek, CO.  They are mushy and flavorless.  I'm pretty sure it's the cook, not the beans, and I am sad.  Guess I'll try again.  Maybe I'll add bacon next time.  As a culinary side note, I did make some pretty tasty soup tonight using chicken sausage and kale.  Who knew kale had such incredible flavor?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7)  I want to open my home more this year, to my sweet neighbors, to other mommies, to some young couples we know from my husband's job.  We bought our house because it was perfect for entertaining.  This is the year...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8)  Every time I see the new Weight Watchers commercial I tell myself I absolutely have to get serious about losing some weight.  I weigh 45 lbs more than I did 10 years ago...wish I looked like Jennifer Hudson.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9)  We drove around and looked at Christmas lights over the holidays.  After seeing home after home with no nativity, no evidence of the Babe in a manger, my daughter said, "I guess all these people don't know Christmas is Jesus' birthday."  Pretty profound, if you ask me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10)  My sister passed on a book on potty training, her youngest is 6.  It's a bit more descriptive than I'd probably have chosen, but my middle son has asked to have it read to him twice in the last two days.  I think he's probably ready to begin the potty training adventure whenever I am.  Wonder when I'll be ready.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11)  It feels like it should be Thursday...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12)  I miss my best friend.  It's been way too long since I've seen her.  She's not met either one of my sons.  Yep, way, way too long.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2591358282468517256-8797206219160274769?l=psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/feeds/8797206219160274769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2011/01/tuesday-twelve.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/8797206219160274769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/8797206219160274769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2011/01/tuesday-twelve.html' title='Tuesday Twelve'/><author><name>Monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03154664827712498093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SZwmTxyKKBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/4LzMT52wARI/S220/Maine.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2591358282468517256.post-4747267516496874375</id><published>2010-12-15T14:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-15T15:00:51.018-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday Twelve</title><content type='html'>It's been a long, hard week...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1)  A week ago my dad went to the ER with what was believed to be a stroke...after further testing it was revealed he has what appears to be a tumor on the right side of his brain.  He goes in for a biopsy Tuesday.  How our lives have changed in the last week...his and my mom's most of all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2)  While in the hospital Dad's constant source of strength was the Word of God, which he has so faithfully hidden in his heart for the last 25+ years.  Even with slurred speech and other affects of the swelling on his brain, as well the tumor, all who entered his room were bathed in the truths of God's Word...from Dad's own mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3)  We've been using a cardboard advent calendar with a beautiful nativity on front to prepare our hearts for Christmas.  It's been a fun opportunity to go over the story of Jesus' birth each and every night and our kiddos have loved opening each cardboard window to see the picture and read the scripture revealed inside.  Our three year old has it memorized, at least the first ten days or so, almost verbatim, beginning with, "Now the angel Gabriel was sent by God to a city of Galilee called Nazareth."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4)  I have long talked of how important Scripture memory is, how I long to make it a priority, but talk is cheap and I have done little to hide God's Word in my heart.  The example of my dad and my daughter has been humbling and convicting and I have been asking God to give me a love for His Word that far surpasses my love for sleep or blogs or magazines...I am working to memorize Proverbs 3:1-10 over the next several weeks/month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5)  My middle son is all boy.  He is so very aware of trucks and construction vehicles and tools.  Bless his heart...I have told him the name of most construction vehicles and he is so excited when he sees "diggers".  I'm pretty sure that's not what they are really called, but what he doesn't know doesn't hurt him.  He's been diligently building me a house for weeks.  He loves his mommy...it's even going to have a fireplace, between the master bedroom and bath I hope!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6)  I threw my kids in the backyard today after lunch, without jackets.  It has to be 70 some degrees.  And I say, thank you, God for Texas weather!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7)  With my first born I knew when every milestone should take place and recorded each incredible moment.  My poor third born...I asked my husband the other day, "When should babies start rolling over?"  We have no idea.  I may get out my "What to Expect the First Year", but then again, I may not!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8)  I cannot explain the joy it brings me when people tell me my daughter reminds them of me...I guess it's because I love her so.  She is a delight.  While at my in-laws, feeding the bunny, she tightly held her brother's hand and put out her arm to keep him from moving forward, "Don't stick your fingers in there, Bubby.  It's a bunny!!!"  I giggled about it again even as I typed it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9)  We unpacked all of our Christmas decorations last week but did not get them up before heading out west to be with my family.  We leave to head back to my parents' on Friday...I'm debating whether or not I put a few things up or put them all back into their boxes.  Maybe I'll just put my favorite nativities out and a gorgeous set of candle holders my hubby and I especially enjoy in the evenings when it's just the two of us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10) My washer has been doing a funky thing for probably six months and today, by shear accident, I fixed it.  Even though it was completely unintentional, I'm still pretty pleased with myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11)  The Christmas lights on our front porch just came on.  My husband worked so hard to put them up to resemble curtains drawn.  I LOVE them, and him, well, I love him even more.  Our first Christmas he cut out a J-O-Y sign for our front yard, with baby Jesus, Mary and Joseph nestled in the O.  I always have a project for him and he is such an amazing man, he always comes through...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12)  For unto us a Child is born, unto us a Son is given; and the government&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  will be upon His shoulder.  And His name will be called  Wonderful,  Counselor, Mighty God,  Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.  Isaiah 9:6&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2591358282468517256-4747267516496874375?l=psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/feeds/4747267516496874375/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2010/12/tuesday-twelve.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/4747267516496874375'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/4747267516496874375'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2010/12/tuesday-twelve.html' title='Tuesday Twelve'/><author><name>Monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03154664827712498093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SZwmTxyKKBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/4LzMT52wARI/S220/Maine.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2591358282468517256.post-4449429732230282178</id><published>2010-12-01T08:23:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-01T08:27:01.610-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wordless Wednesday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/TPZ3DMhPL0I/AAAAAAAAALQ/PDYQI3xaXQQ/s1600/SusannaLoom2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/TPZ3DMhPL0I/AAAAAAAAALQ/PDYQI3xaXQQ/s320/SusannaLoom2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545750887937290050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/TPZ3CwaKvMI/AAAAAAAAALI/DZAn56ZetwE/s1600/SusannaLoom1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/TPZ3CwaKvMI/AAAAAAAAALI/DZAn56ZetwE/s320/SusannaLoom1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545750880391445698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2591358282468517256-4449429732230282178?l=psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/feeds/4449429732230282178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2010/12/wordless-wednesday.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/4449429732230282178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/4449429732230282178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2010/12/wordless-wednesday.html' title='Wordless Wednesday'/><author><name>Monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03154664827712498093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SZwmTxyKKBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/4LzMT52wARI/S220/Maine.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/TPZ3DMhPL0I/AAAAAAAAALQ/PDYQI3xaXQQ/s72-c/SusannaLoom2.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2591358282468517256.post-7361486524899124227</id><published>2010-11-30T07:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-11-30T13:16:12.780-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday Twelve</title><content type='html'>I'm going to take the lead from a friend of mine from high school.  She does a Tuesday Twelve post MOST Tuesdays and I enjoy them so.  (Thanks, &lt;a href="http://fertilelychallenged.blogspot.com/"&gt;Chandra&lt;/a&gt;!)  I figured this may encourage me to become more regular in the posting department.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1)  My youngest giggles in his sleep...it brings his daddy and me such joy to watch him.  Did my other two giggle in their sleep and I've just forgotten?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2)  I'm considering trying to implement some Fly Lady around this place again.  I'm desperate!!!  I did "bless" my floors yesterday, but still feel like my house has gotten the best of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3)  Our Thanksgiving tree was such a blessing!  I hated to say good-bye to it.  I'm looking forward to the Christmas prayer/service chain we'll begin tomorrow.  I know it will be such fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4)  My middle son stayed in his class Sunday at church.  When I left him he was bawling.  I think he did fine, but when I went to pick him up he said, "Mommy, I was calling you."  Breaks a mama's heart...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5)  Children are sponges; my oldest had a memory verse she learned Sunday in Sunday School.  I was quoting it today, hoping to help her remember it, and she corrected me.  Me..."Let your light so shine before men that they may see your good works..."  Her..."No Mommy, it's that they may see your good DEEDS..."  Of course, she was right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6)  My husband has only one more class and one final exam and then he will be finished with school until January.  Hallelujah!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7)  My oldest is training her brother well.  His future wife will be forever grateful.  "Look at my toenail polish, Bubby.  Isn't it pretty?"  To which he dutifully responded, "Wow!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8) Note to self:  Do not go to Hobby Lobby to make a return with three children three and under during Christmas season...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9) My hubby and I are reading a family advent book together in the evenings, such a joy.  It is our prayer that our hearts and our home would be prepared to worship the Christ Child this beautiful season.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10) Seriously, how in the world does my friend come up with twelve?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11) I've cleared the mantle in order to decorate for Christmas...mind you, I cleared my Christmas decorations from the mantle in July.  No, I am not kidding!!  At this point I'm thinking to myself, why in the world did I even take them down?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12) I've been bound and determined to make a little money doing something crafty.  I give up!  I'm just going to do crafty things for family and friends and let my husband do the money making thing.  I'm off to put matching Pooh appliques on shirts for my three kiddos.  Hopefully I'll be able to post a picture soon!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2591358282468517256-7361486524899124227?l=psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/feeds/7361486524899124227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2010/11/tuesday-twelve.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/7361486524899124227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/7361486524899124227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2010/11/tuesday-twelve.html' title='Tuesday Twelve'/><author><name>Monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03154664827712498093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SZwmTxyKKBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/4LzMT52wARI/S220/Maine.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2591358282468517256.post-5656558650524746518</id><published>2010-09-14T12:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-14T12:17:39.628-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Delight...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/TI_JADJnf6I/AAAAAAAAALA/EgRYj7qeEuQ/s1600/IMG_0007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/TI_JADJnf6I/AAAAAAAAALA/EgRYj7qeEuQ/s320/IMG_0007.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516849071234973602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How I delight in my middle son.  He is such a joy!  He's staying home with Baby and me on Tuesdays while Sissy goes to school.  Today after we dropped his sister off he proceeded to talk up a storm.  He gets extra opportunity to talk when he's the only "children" (as my daughter would say) in the car who's old enough to talk.  He waved at the workmen on the side of the road, "Hey guys!", shouted "Yay!!!" and clapped his chubby little hands as we approached the grocery store, and made sure to tell me to "Get Baby" when we were getting out of the van.  He was very concerned I was going to forget his little brother.  How I love that little guy...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2591358282468517256-5656558650524746518?l=psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/feeds/5656558650524746518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2010/09/delight.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/5656558650524746518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/5656558650524746518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2010/09/delight.html' title='Delight...'/><author><name>Monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03154664827712498093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SZwmTxyKKBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/4LzMT52wARI/S220/Maine.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/TI_JADJnf6I/AAAAAAAAALA/EgRYj7qeEuQ/s72-c/IMG_0007.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2591358282468517256.post-5702047268667275098</id><published>2010-04-30T07:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-30T11:11:01.061-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Our Little Girl's First Date and Her First Program...</title><content type='html'>We recently celebrated a third birthday and the birthday girl, upon turning three, began having dates with Daddy.  She was supposed to begin going to bed by herself AND having dates with Daddy.  The date was a success, the going to bed by herself, well, we're still working on that!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here she is, all dressed up for her first date.  Daddy let her choose where they were going to go and she chose breakfast at I-Hop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/S9r4XiNVAuI/AAAAAAAAAKs/kneIzituJT4/s1600/FirstDate.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/S9r4XiNVAuI/AAAAAAAAAKs/kneIzituJT4/s320/FirstDate.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465954180970906338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;For her next date she has selected Barnes and Noble.  She is hoping to get a box of milk at Starbucks and score a Winnie the Pooh book at the bookstore.  I bet Daddy comes through on both.  I've been trying to convince her that really, Mommy is the Starbucks gal, as Daddy doesn't even like coffee, but dates are reserved for Daddy alone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/S9rukdQNOfI/AAAAAAAAAKc/Ym5a919VaRY/s1600/FirstDatewithDaddy.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/S9rukdQNOfI/AAAAAAAAAKc/Ym5a919VaRY/s320/FirstDatewithDaddy.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465943407862823410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Last night was her first program...adorable!!!  She didn't sing a word, but was, of course, the cutest girl in the place!  She intently scanned the audience for her daddy when she got up on the risers and upon spotting him, pointed excitedly, saying, "Uh oh, uh oh, I see a handsome bald man!" As I said, she did not sing a lick, but three different times she pointed out "her handsome bald man."  She is such fun!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/S9rqRjOgo0I/AAAAAAAAAKU/3Ttbbl6jO_8/s1600/FirstProgram.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/S9rqRjOgo0I/AAAAAAAAAKU/3Ttbbl6jO_8/s320/FirstProgram.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5465938685002294082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///Users/MLPatrick/Pictures/iPhoto%20Library/Modified/2010/April%202010/IMG_0007.JPG" alt="" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2591358282468517256-5702047268667275098?l=psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/feeds/5702047268667275098/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2010/04/our-little-girls-first-date-and-her.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/5702047268667275098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/5702047268667275098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2010/04/our-little-girls-first-date-and-her.html' title='Our Little Girl&apos;s First Date and Her First Program...'/><author><name>Monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03154664827712498093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SZwmTxyKKBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/4LzMT52wARI/S220/Maine.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/S9r4XiNVAuI/AAAAAAAAAKs/kneIzituJT4/s72-c/FirstDate.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2591358282468517256.post-485495923563704175</id><published>2010-04-27T20:21:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-27T20:40:54.524-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Time Flies...</title><content type='html'>What?!  How have I let time get so far away from me???  I spend way too much time reading other people's blogs and not nearly enough time keeping up with my own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where to start?  We are expecting our third little one in August, August 18th, to be exact, and another little man, to be more exact.  We are thrilled.  Big sister knew all along the baby was going to be a brother and has even chosen a name, Noah's Ark, still in negotiations, but a darling choice.  Big brother ADORES babies, seriously, I've never known a kid to love babies as much.  I hope he's as excited when we bring one home to live with us!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kids are getting so big.  I'd include pictures, but well, quite honestly, I haven't taken any in months.  I may not be kidding.  I don't actually remember how long it has been, but way, way too long.  Kind of like the blog!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, besides, the baby, what's been happening...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our little girl turned 3!  Seriously, she's 3 and while she insists she is still my baby, really, she's turning into a little girl.  It thrills my heart and at the same time breaks it.  Such a bittersweet time.  I suppose that will be the rest of life, reveling in the growth and grieving those precious moments that are gone forever.  For now, I enjoy putting her to bed and sharing a pillow, her arm around my neck and her warm breath in my face. Oh how I love her!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her brother is 18 months old and such a joy.  He's learning all sorts of things and loves, loves, loves his sissy and playing outside.  He is our official meal time pray-er.  He gives thanks for all things, and seriously, sometimes it is ALL things, his mu (milk), ba-berries (blueberries), poon (spoon), ba (bread) sissy, mama, da-da, Bi-ba (Bible), his mu again.  We eventually have to cut him off and say, "In Jesus name", so he can wrap up with a loud "Ma-men!"  Otherwise we may never eat.    Man, how that little guy has captured my heart!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, there is so much more, but it's late and I am determined to walk in the morning, so I'd best get to bed.  I'll be back...soon!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2591358282468517256-485495923563704175?l=psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/feeds/485495923563704175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2010/04/time-flies.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/485495923563704175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/485495923563704175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2010/04/time-flies.html' title='Time Flies...'/><author><name>Monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03154664827712498093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SZwmTxyKKBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/4LzMT52wARI/S220/Maine.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2591358282468517256.post-9175177154091954854</id><published>2009-11-16T18:47:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-17T08:19:15.127-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What next...</title><content type='html'>As long as I can remember I've longed to adopt.  I was single for so many years, I always imagined I would adopt and never have biological children.  God surprised me, first with my amazing husband and then, with two precious babies.  And yet, I still long to adopt.  Recently, every time I turn around, I am faced with what seems to be God's mandate for the church, and our family, to care for the orphan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, here we are, wondering what is next.  We're praying for, and pursuing, the opportunity to adopt.  We don't know what God has in store for us, but our hearts thrill at the very thought of what He will do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2591358282468517256-9175177154091954854?l=psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/feeds/9175177154091954854/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2009/11/what-next.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/9175177154091954854'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/9175177154091954854'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2009/11/what-next.html' title='What next...'/><author><name>Monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03154664827712498093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SZwmTxyKKBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/4LzMT52wARI/S220/Maine.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2591358282468517256.post-8518895946174818160</id><published>2009-07-23T06:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-23T07:19:10.250-07:00</updated><title type='text'>DOD...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I never cease to be amazed by all my daughter takes in, all that is molding her precious heart, mind and soul.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We're using &lt;a href="http://www.childrendesiringgod.org/"&gt;Children Desiring God curriculum&lt;/a&gt; some at bedtime for our Bible story.  I've enjoyed the format and the focus and some of their scripture memory tools.  They have a set of cards on a ring with pictures that prompt your child to remember scripture verses.  We've been working on a couple, Genesis 1:1 and Matthew 6:24.  At any rate, last night at bedtime, we were going over the story of creation.  So, as we began the story, we reminded our little girl of the verse we'd been memorizing, Genesis 1:1.  (Currently, all she knows of the verse is "wu-wu" (1:1).)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/Smht3tdXfjI/AAAAAAAAAKM/eyS4KoovKWk/s320/Susanna.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5361656160247578162" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After we read the story and sang a song and thanked God for creating ALL THINGS Little One picked up the notebook we'd told the story out of and proceeded to tell her daddy and me the story of creation. It went something like this...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wu-wu (Genesis 1:1)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No tees (trees)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No pu-pu (puppies)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No mu-mu (monkeys)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No bu (birds)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;No mu (milk)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;DOD!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yep, precious daughter of mine, there was nothing, absolutely nothing and then...GOD.     &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2591358282468517256-8518895946174818160?l=psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/feeds/8518895946174818160/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2009/07/dod.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/8518895946174818160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/8518895946174818160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2009/07/dod.html' title='DOD...'/><author><name>Monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03154664827712498093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SZwmTxyKKBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/4LzMT52wARI/S220/Maine.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/Smht3tdXfjI/AAAAAAAAAKM/eyS4KoovKWk/s72-c/Susanna.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2591358282468517256.post-5520532156595779470</id><published>2009-07-18T16:56:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-18T17:13:48.494-07:00</updated><title type='text'>All Out of Sorts...</title><content type='html'>So, it seems we've been an incomplete family for months.  It's probably been a month in all reality but we are beginning to feel the effects...&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My hubby was at a convention in the middle of June, we were all together for a week, then the kiddos and I headed to the TX Panhandle to stay with my nephews for another week and now, this week, Daddy's gone again.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Personally, I have eaten two entire boxes of Cocoa Puffs since Wednesday...the fault is my own, but I'd like to blame it on separation anxiety.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My daughter's favorite words have become one of the many derivatives of "me", me, my, myself, mine...most often in a louder than necessary voice, oh, that and "No!".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My son, who is the easiest baby to put to sleep I have EVER seen, has begun crying, and crying, and crying when I lay him down.  And, at times, he simply cannot be consoled.  FYI, for new mommies, don't try to calm a screaming, angry, baby by encouraging him to nurse.  It can be detrimental to mama's health!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;As for my husband, I don't know exactly how he's fairing, but I'm sure he misses us as much as we miss him.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh how we miss:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-  hearing the garage door go up, so we can run through the house screaming, "Daddy, Daddy" and "Hubby, Hubby."  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-  trips to "owes" (Lowes), so a little girl and her daddy can spend time together and a mommy can get the floor mopped (or some blogs read).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-  piggy-back rides, wrestling on the floor and hide and go seek with daddy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-  night-night with daddy, this praying over the phone is getting old.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;-  splashing in the tub...mommy's not nearly as patient with big splashes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Come home soon, Daddy!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2591358282468517256-5520532156595779470?l=psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/feeds/5520532156595779470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2009/07/all-out-of-sorts.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/5520532156595779470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/5520532156595779470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2009/07/all-out-of-sorts.html' title='All Out of Sorts...'/><author><name>Monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03154664827712498093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SZwmTxyKKBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/4LzMT52wARI/S220/Maine.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2591358282468517256.post-1019852955611488644</id><published>2009-06-22T11:21:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T11:33:05.323-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Zoo Membership</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How many times can a mommy take her little ones to the zoo?  Enough times that my two year old daughter noticed one of the zebras was missing today AND that the bears were not in their place.  She noticed that both of the mountain goats were there, she's quite concerned when one or both is not there, and that the elephant was not standing near the water, where he usually stands.  We like routine!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I told my husband a zoo membership was silly, a waste of money...oh how very, very wrong I was.  Here are some pictures of just a few of the times we've been.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;May 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/Sj_M5NCLZpI/AAAAAAAAAKE/cDYUs286gRE/s1600-h/May2008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/Sj_M5NCLZpI/AAAAAAAAAKE/cDYUs286gRE/s320/May2008.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350220165462845074" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;July 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/Sj_MnbT2AYI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/LnWU2I9DsZQ/s1600-h/July2008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/Sj_MnbT2AYI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/LnWU2I9DsZQ/s320/July2008.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350219860057391490" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;March 2009&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/Sj_MnD4exSI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/UO_7AgA4olQ/s1600-h/March2009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/Sj_MnD4exSI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/UO_7AgA4olQ/s320/March2009.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350219853768607010" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;May 2009 &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/Sj_Mm5uOG3I/AAAAAAAAAJs/nErXWMEaGnE/s1600-h/May2009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/Sj_Mm5uOG3I/AAAAAAAAAJs/nErXWMEaGnE/s320/May2009.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350219851041217394" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;May 2009 - again&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/Sj_MmdRWgUI/AAAAAAAAAJk/Iy-d2E-pz_w/s1600-h/May2009-2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 273px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/Sj_MmdRWgUI/AAAAAAAAAJk/Iy-d2E-pz_w/s320/May2009-2.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350219843403940162" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;May 2009 - Bubby&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/Sj_MmK0r0BI/AAAAAAAAAJc/MhIq_raeM0Y/s1600-h/May2009-4.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/Sj_MmK0r0BI/AAAAAAAAAJc/MhIq_raeM0Y/s320/May2009-4.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350219838451863570" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2591358282468517256-1019852955611488644?l=psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/feeds/1019852955611488644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2009/06/zoo-membership.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/1019852955611488644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/1019852955611488644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2009/06/zoo-membership.html' title='Zoo Membership'/><author><name>Monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03154664827712498093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SZwmTxyKKBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/4LzMT52wARI/S220/Maine.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/Sj_M5NCLZpI/AAAAAAAAAKE/cDYUs286gRE/s72-c/May2008.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2591358282468517256.post-6007608415473960182</id><published>2009-06-13T08:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-13T08:33:31.288-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Randomness...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;This little girl is growing up so quickly.  She's talking like crazy, and while her daddy and I are the only folks who understand her, she's learning new words, phrases, concepts, ALL of the time.  She's such fun.  One of her latest words is work..."Daddy's at work."  "This doesn't work." "Mommy, you work this puzzle with me."  Really, she says all of that, only instead of puzzle she says "bu"...bu can mean many, many things, banana, bread, puzzle, book, etc.  You totally have to pay attention to the context.  Or best, that's a new word too...and neat.  It's fun to hear her try them out in all sorts of different situations.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SjPCE0xLuXI/AAAAAAAAAIs/2AWytSM2-Y4/s1600-h/Posing.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SjPCE0xLuXI/AAAAAAAAAIs/2AWytSM2-Y4/s320/Posing.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346830570759108978" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Seriously, Bubby is this happy.  He wakes up this happy...smiling, laughing and moving ALL of the time.  Unless I'm not feeding him fast enough.  If he thinks everyone else is getting to eat and he's not been put into his highchair and bibbed up, there is heck to pay.  Or, if it's nap time and he hasn't been put into his crib with a blankie, let's just say, he can have a temper.  (You do see that red hair don't you.  Need I say more?!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SjPCEjzbgeI/AAAAAAAAAIk/Py-jBi4q4Y4/s1600-h/Bubby.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SjPCEjzbgeI/AAAAAAAAAIk/Py-jBi4q4Y4/s320/Bubby.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346830566205129186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;PaPa and Zsa-Zsa stopped by on their way home from S.C.  They were only able to stay one night but we had such fun seeing them.  We all got up to head to breakfast at IHop before they got on the road but, after getting dressed and her face washed my daughter said, "Bye-bye, Mommy."  I told her, "Bubby and Mommy are going with you."  "No," she said, "Me, PaPa, Zsa-Zsa go out neat (eat)."  I asked, "You don't want Mommy and Baby to go with you to breakfast?"No, Me, PaPa, Zsa-Zsa go out neat."  I obliged...it was fun for her to spend sometime alone with PaPa and Zsa-Zsa, it was time for Bubby's nap and I got to mop the floor in peace and quiet.  But seriously, she didn't want me to go.  I'm not entirely sure how I feel about that!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SjPCEXnnhVI/AAAAAAAAAIc/UKumHYH-X7I/s1600-h/PaPa.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SjPCEXnnhVI/AAAAAAAAAIc/UKumHYH-X7I/s320/PaPa.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346830562934359378" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh how I love being mommy to these kids!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2591358282468517256-6007608415473960182?l=psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/feeds/6007608415473960182/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2009/06/randomness.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/6007608415473960182'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/6007608415473960182'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2009/06/randomness.html' title='Randomness...'/><author><name>Monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03154664827712498093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SZwmTxyKKBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/4LzMT52wARI/S220/Maine.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SjPCE0xLuXI/AAAAAAAAAIs/2AWytSM2-Y4/s72-c/Posing.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2591358282468517256.post-1521624231027620931</id><published>2009-05-28T11:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-29T20:33:48.101-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Day to Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;It seems like daily the munchkins are changing...Bubby had his first play date. It was such fun hanging with the boys!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 176px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/Sh7WJ38XXgI/AAAAAAAAAH8/BfSfwSXk0wQ/s320/PlayDate.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340941673232293378" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;He also began eating solids.  He was interested much earlier than his big sister and Mama held out as long as she could but he started being a bit demanding.  Avocado is his favorite...alright, it's all he gets to eat, but still, a big hit!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/Sh7WJmEaWlI/AAAAAAAAAH0/hohVxNsEyag/s1600-h/Eating.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/Sh7WJmEaWlI/AAAAAAAAAH0/hohVxNsEyag/s320/Eating.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340941668434205266" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sister moved to her big girl bed a while back and Bubby moved into the crib, thus, the cradle is empty...but very appealing.  Mama came around the corner the other day to find sister hanging out in Bubby's bed.  She couldn't resist putting Bubby in there too and getting a picture or two.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/Sh7WI_10v1I/AAAAAAAAAHk/0D1KQDFhMXY/s320/Cradle1.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340941658172473170" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Recently Mama and Little One were talking about what being a friend is and Mama asked Sister her who her friends were.  "Bubby!" she said.  Of course...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/Sh7WJc09iLI/AAAAAAAAAHs/eHG2vSfZOrw/s1600-h/Cradle2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/Sh7WJc09iLI/AAAAAAAAAHs/eHG2vSfZOrw/s320/Cradle2.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340941665953482930" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Somedays, after a nap, we wake up looking like this.  And somedays, our attitude matches our hairdo!  (Mama's attitude that is, not Sister's!!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/Sh7WIsF-7lI/AAAAAAAAAHc/LfAZaVW55fk/s1600-h/Bedhead.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/Sh7WIsF-7lI/AAAAAAAAAHc/LfAZaVW55fk/s320/Bedhead.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5340941652871540306" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2591358282468517256-1521624231027620931?l=psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/feeds/1521624231027620931/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2009/05/day-to-day.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/1521624231027620931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/1521624231027620931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2009/05/day-to-day.html' title='Day to Day'/><author><name>Monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03154664827712498093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SZwmTxyKKBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/4LzMT52wARI/S220/Maine.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/Sh7WJ38XXgI/AAAAAAAAAH8/BfSfwSXk0wQ/s72-c/PlayDate.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2591358282468517256.post-419380514654318766</id><published>2009-05-27T19:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-27T19:23:30.789-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Tutu Envy</title><content type='html'>My girl LOVES her tutu.  Last time Zsa-Zsa was in town she delivered a tutu to her favorite blue-eyed granddaughter.  Man, what a hit, as seen in a &lt;a href="http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2009/05/at-times-there-is-so-much-i-want-to.html"&gt;previous post&lt;/a&gt;.  However, after reading &lt;a href="http://www.mycharmingkids.net/2009/05/tutu-much-fun.html"&gt;MckMama's blog&lt;/a&gt; and eyeing her little girl's tutu, it seems a bit inadequate...&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;What's a mommy tutu do?!  I'm telling you, I'm going to be on the look out for an extravagant tutu too!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2591358282468517256-419380514654318766?l=psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/feeds/419380514654318766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2009/05/tutu-envy.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/419380514654318766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/419380514654318766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2009/05/tutu-envy.html' title='Tutu Envy'/><author><name>Monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03154664827712498093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SZwmTxyKKBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/4LzMT52wARI/S220/Maine.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2591358282468517256.post-7904544982133578667</id><published>2009-05-14T21:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-14T21:30:46.255-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Are we related or what?!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;September 2007&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SgzvXWOgS3I/AAAAAAAAAHI/PIACxbDH6cI/s1600-h/IMG_0012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SgzvXWOgS3I/AAAAAAAAAHI/PIACxbDH6cI/s320/IMG_0012.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335902842909641586" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;May 2009&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SgzvXB-UyKI/AAAAAAAAAHA/qVFf0lD-pCA/s1600-h/DSC_0097.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 229px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SgzvXB-UyKI/AAAAAAAAAHA/qVFf0lD-pCA/s320/DSC_0097.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335902837473069218" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2591358282468517256-7904544982133578667?l=psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/feeds/7904544982133578667/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2009/05/are-we-related-or-what.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/7904544982133578667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/7904544982133578667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2009/05/are-we-related-or-what.html' title='Are we related or what?!'/><author><name>Monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03154664827712498093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SZwmTxyKKBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/4LzMT52wARI/S220/Maine.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SgzvXWOgS3I/AAAAAAAAAHI/PIACxbDH6cI/s72-c/IMG_0012.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2591358282468517256.post-7027637993173596806</id><published>2009-05-14T12:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-15T11:39:13.274-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What in the world?!</title><content type='html'>Something is eating my lettuce!  We were out taking a peek at the progress of our garden and this is what we found...&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/Sgx5M_oJQPI/AAAAAAAAAGg/m7mxla6oOfM/s320/IMG_0048.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335772922672398578" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We seem to have an infestation of roly-polies, but I don't think they are responsible.  The sparrows, who have almost taken over the yard are probably not the culprits (wish they'd start feasting on the rolly-pollies).  So, that leaves the squirrels.  Do squirrels eat lettuce?!  Thank goodness they've left my tomatoes and peppers alone...and my swiss chard.  There would be a price to pay if the critters messed with my swiss chard!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2591358282468517256-7027637993173596806?l=psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/feeds/7027637993173596806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2009/05/what-in-world.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/7027637993173596806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/7027637993173596806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2009/05/what-in-world.html' title='What in the world?!'/><author><name>Monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03154664827712498093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SZwmTxyKKBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/4LzMT52wARI/S220/Maine.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/Sgx5M_oJQPI/AAAAAAAAAGg/m7mxla6oOfM/s72-c/IMG_0048.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2591358282468517256.post-8144403425681748175</id><published>2009-05-11T18:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-14T13:32:55.904-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>At times there is so much I want to write about I fail to write about a single thing...as with much of my life, I become easily overwhelmed.  So, rather than write a new post, I read other folks' blogs.  Additionally, rather than do laundry I sort and resort piles of clothes, onto the floor, back into the hamper, onto the floor, back into the hamper.  Rather than wash my dishes I run hot water into the sink AGAIN...I guess just to keep them soaking.  And so it goes...&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How come is it so?!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At any rate, today, I'm going to try to do better, well, at least with the blogging. Who knows how the laundry and dishes will go!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;A few of our favorite things here recently...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/Sgx8g0ps-AI/AAAAAAAAAG4/3Mp_EPoLxhQ/s320/IMG_0039_2.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335776561858410498" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Playing with Bubby&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/Sgx8ginBHpI/AAAAAAAAAGw/_wKQ57mfU3o/s320/IMG_0034.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335776557015309970" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Bubba (the fish), our bee pajamas, sunglasses, and our tutu&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/Sgx8gSeh3zI/AAAAAAAAAGo/HNlCOTr-yxo/s320/IMG_0067.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335776552684740402" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;AGAIN, our tutu, to be worn whenever possible, tea parties and bandaids&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;And so much more...books, books and more books, puzzles, playing with Bubby, water, bubbles, receiving mail or sending it, playing with Bubby, riding my tricycle, helping Daddy in the yard, sliding, raisins, playing with Bubby. Man, life is good.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2591358282468517256-8144403425681748175?l=psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/feeds/8144403425681748175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2009/05/at-times-there-is-so-much-i-want-to.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/8144403425681748175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/8144403425681748175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2009/05/at-times-there-is-so-much-i-want-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03154664827712498093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SZwmTxyKKBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/4LzMT52wARI/S220/Maine.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/Sgx8g0ps-AI/AAAAAAAAAG4/3Mp_EPoLxhQ/s72-c/IMG_0039_2.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2591358282468517256.post-6392706120027520313</id><published>2009-03-26T10:18:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-26T10:26:57.721-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Grooming please...</title><content type='html'>We went to the zoo yesterday.  Clearly, this poor guy is in need of a few good friends...&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/Scu6rLm6A8I/AAAAAAAAAGY/7lZEvKThKVA/s320/OldManOrangutang.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317549036054119362" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2591358282468517256-6392706120027520313?l=psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/feeds/6392706120027520313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2009/03/grooming-please.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/6392706120027520313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/6392706120027520313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2009/03/grooming-please.html' title='Grooming please...'/><author><name>Monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03154664827712498093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SZwmTxyKKBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/4LzMT52wARI/S220/Maine.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/Scu6rLm6A8I/AAAAAAAAAGY/7lZEvKThKVA/s72-c/OldManOrangutang.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2591358282468517256.post-5901586228445405399</id><published>2009-03-26T09:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-26T10:06:40.897-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Gardening 101...again</title><content type='html'>Our attempt at gardening has been less than stellar.  It all started out so beautifully.  We labeled our pots, planted our seeds, watered them and watched for the miracle of life to begin to poke its green little noggin out of the soil.  We were not disappointed, several days after planting our seeds, shoots began to appear.  It was very exciting around our place as we watched for new plants daily.  They seemed to be doing so well.  &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;However, as they grew, it became apparent something was not right.  They all had a few leaves up top and a long, leggy stem, but not much substance.  Our sweet neighbor agreed to water them while we were out of town, but was quick to point out when I delivered the "crop" to her place, she thought we need to just go ahead and buy starter plants.  However, I had hope...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When we came home, this was what we found.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/ScuzkCPA_GI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/z4oG6ZbF4C0/s320/Seedlings.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5317541216697515106" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Our neighbor felt horrible.  She'd even tried to tie some of the little plants to stakes to help them survive...so sweet, but to no avail.  I've debated whether or not I should go ahead and try again, but I do believe I'm going to go ahead and buy some starter plants, at least for the veggies.  However, we may just plant our flower seeds out in the yard and see what happens...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2591358282468517256-5901586228445405399?l=psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/feeds/5901586228445405399/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2009/03/gardening-101again.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/5901586228445405399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/5901586228445405399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2009/03/gardening-101again.html' title='Gardening 101...again'/><author><name>Monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03154664827712498093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SZwmTxyKKBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/4LzMT52wARI/S220/Maine.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/ScuzkCPA_GI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/z4oG6ZbF4C0/s72-c/Seedlings.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2591358282468517256.post-4797470811870176138</id><published>2009-03-23T20:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-23T20:15:16.939-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Baby Boy...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;You've gotta' love this...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SchQEetM1xI/AAAAAAAAAGI/91y2xP4Q_Kk/s1600-h/JosiahSmile.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SchQEetM1xI/AAAAAAAAAGI/91y2xP4Q_Kk/s320/JosiahSmile.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316587398003218194" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;and these...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SchP5_fYiAI/AAAAAAAAAGA/JkcuKpZKYPI/s1600-h/JosiahRolls.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SchP5_fYiAI/AAAAAAAAAGA/JkcuKpZKYPI/s320/JosiahRolls.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316587217825073154" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2591358282468517256-4797470811870176138?l=psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/feeds/4797470811870176138/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2009/03/baby-boy.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/4797470811870176138'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/4797470811870176138'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2009/03/baby-boy.html' title='Baby Boy...'/><author><name>Monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03154664827712498093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SZwmTxyKKBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/4LzMT52wARI/S220/Maine.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SchQEetM1xI/AAAAAAAAAGI/91y2xP4Q_Kk/s72-c/JosiahSmile.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2591358282468517256.post-7439362843661408232</id><published>2009-03-23T13:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-23T19:28:29.503-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthday Me...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/Scf0AycLyHI/AAAAAAAAAF4/8JTbmqZgSjs/s1600-h/IMG_0062.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/Scf0AycLyHI/AAAAAAAAAF4/8JTbmqZgSjs/s320/IMG_0062.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316486179511322738" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is the day we had a birthday...well, actually, yesterday was the day, but today's the day I'm going to blog about it.  Our daughter turned two.  We've been singing "Birthday me, birthday me..." for weeks, but yesterday was her birthday, as well as her party.  Truth is, I don't really know what to say.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We've had such fun getting ready to turn "doo", but it's been kind of bittersweet.  Seriously, it seems like yesterday we were counting fingers and toes at the hospital.  And look at that precious little girl.  They were perfect fingers and toes...still are, if I do say so myself!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/Scfz1czu4fI/AAAAAAAAAFw/_HrvYJXtEBA/s1600-h/just+born1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 317px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/Scfz1czu4fI/AAAAAAAAAFw/_HrvYJXtEBA/s320/just+born1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316485984725950962" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;At any rate, yesterday we woke up, rejoicing in the amazing day the Lord had made and we had a party.  A few of our friends came to celebrate with us and we all had such fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/ScfzlRIqWWI/AAAAAAAAAFo/rB2QrqUO_do/s1600-h/IMG_0095.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/ScfzlRIqWWI/AAAAAAAAAFo/rB2QrqUO_do/s320/IMG_0095.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316485706714601826" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We decorated bags and hunted Easter eggs...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/ScfzbjKcLXI/AAAAAAAAAFg/XmZ85RrfCWk/s1600-h/IMG_0063.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/ScfzbjKcLXI/AAAAAAAAAFg/XmZ85RrfCWk/s320/IMG_0063.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316485539755208050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We played with giant bouncy balls...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/ScfzPz6KPAI/AAAAAAAAAFY/wgpGFdw3X9g/s1600-h/IMG_0068.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/ScfzPz6KPAI/AAAAAAAAAFY/wgpGFdw3X9g/s320/IMG_0068.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316485338091895810" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And of course opened presents...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/ScfzCjChLTI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/MUlCOoM2Nwo/s1600-h/IMG_0114.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/ScfzCjChLTI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/MUlCOoM2Nwo/s320/IMG_0114.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316485110225251634" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;There was sidewalk chalk, a b-b-q and cake (and for the birthday girl, strawberries).  There was however, no blowing out of candles, 1) the wind was pretty steady all afternoon and the candles wouldn't stay lit, 2) we had an unfortunate incident earlier at a party with Grammy and Poppy that included hot wax and chubby little fingers.  There was a definite aversion to candle lighting during the party.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, as I said, bittersweet...it's such fun watching this precious gift from the Father grow.  She's changing so much, each and every day it seems.  She has always loved being read to and now, she loves to read.  She sings, all the time, songs she's sung with Mommy and Daddy and now songs she's made up herself.  She tells Bible stories, her favorite is the story of Joshua and the battle of Jericho.  She helps fold clothes (or unfold them, as it may be) and puts them away in her room.  She's pottying in the potty, most of the time.  She loves, loves, loves her baby brother, playing with him, reading to him and helping with his bath.   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How we love watching God at work in her.  What a joy the last two years have been.  We absolutely cannot wait to see what God has in store.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2591358282468517256-7439362843661408232?l=psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/feeds/7439362843661408232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2009/03/birthday-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/7439362843661408232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/7439362843661408232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2009/03/birthday-me.html' title='Birthday Me...'/><author><name>Monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03154664827712498093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SZwmTxyKKBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/4LzMT52wARI/S220/Maine.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/Scf0AycLyHI/AAAAAAAAAF4/8JTbmqZgSjs/s72-c/IMG_0062.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2591358282468517256.post-6833833444852649784</id><published>2009-03-06T12:07:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-07T09:28:49.148-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Joshua James</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Before becoming a mommy I was an aunt, for six years I was an aunt to the most incredible kids, Joshua, Caleb, Makayla, David and Kaitlyn. Seriously, the most incredible!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Joshua, my oldest nephew, and my daughter's absolute favorite boy ever, well besides her daddy and her brother, has been on my mind today.  He was the first "baby" to be born to our family.  Wow, how we loved him...how we love him.  I remember when I heard he'd been born and he and his mama (my precious sister) were both doing great.  I just cried and cried.  I loved him so much I could hardly stand it, and I hadn't even met him.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;AND now...he's nine years old, yep, nine.  Unbelievable.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I remember when Josh was two.  My sister and her family came to Mom and Dad's for Christmas.  We walked into church on Christmas Eve, he saw the manger at the front of the church and said, "Look, it's Baby Jesus."  Sure enough, Josh, baby Jesus.  Not long after that Josh wrote his first song...The Holy Ghost, the Holy Ghost is always with you, the Holy Ghost.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;How he delights the heart of our Father.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was not only the last in my family to have kids, I was also the last to get married.  As a single gal I was able to visit my family frequently and I was able to spend lots of time with my nieces and nephews.  We did all sorts of things together.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I'd stay with Josh and his family early each morning he'd come get in bed with me. We'd talk about a myriad of topics and sit and do our quiet times.  We built forts, played "I spy with my little eye", made french toast for breakfast...  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;One day, when Josh was five or six, he and I went to the grocery store.  "Aunt Mo, are you one of those, ladies who wear the dresses and those things on their heads and work at the church?"  "A nun?"  "Yes.  Are you a nun?"  "No Josh, I'm not a nun.  Why?"  "Well, you're not married and you serve God with your whole life..."  Yes, of course, it makes perfect sense.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last time I was out to visit Josh reminded me of our times together..."Aunt Mo, remember when you used to be alone and you'd stay with us when you came?"  Ah, yes, I vaguely remember when I was alone.  It seems like it's been a hundred years ago, but Josh, I do remember.  I remember sweet, sweet times with you.  What a blessed aunt I am.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;May 2006&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SbGEP8rrFHI/AAAAAAAAADI/H9fiTgLXBsM/s1600-h/Josh2006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 265px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SbGEP8rrFHI/AAAAAAAAADI/H9fiTgLXBsM/s320/Josh2006.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310170845168735346" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;August 2007&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SbGEPZO0JmI/AAAAAAAAADA/HsMnyskLJgQ/s1600-h/Josh2007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SbGEPZO0JmI/AAAAAAAAADA/HsMnyskLJgQ/s320/Josh2007.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310170835652453986" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;July 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SbGEPOFLVbI/AAAAAAAAAC4/H9LNt983NNY/s1600-h/Josh2008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SbGEPOFLVbI/AAAAAAAAAC4/H9LNt983NNY/s320/Josh2008.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310170832659240370" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;December 2008&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SbGEOuq1GTI/AAAAAAAAACw/c1V6iZglxfk/s1600-h/JoshDec2008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SbGEOuq1GTI/AAAAAAAAACw/c1V6iZglxfk/s320/JoshDec2008.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5310170824227232050" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2591358282468517256-6833833444852649784?l=psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/feeds/6833833444852649784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2009/03/joshua-james.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/6833833444852649784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/6833833444852649784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2009/03/joshua-james.html' title='Joshua James'/><author><name>Monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03154664827712498093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SZwmTxyKKBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/4LzMT52wARI/S220/Maine.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SbGEP8rrFHI/AAAAAAAAADI/H9fiTgLXBsM/s72-c/Josh2006.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2591358282468517256.post-6285383345050840602</id><published>2009-03-04T06:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T07:11:42.186-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Learning...</title><content type='html'>Seriously, when did I decide it was prudent to allow my toddler determine whether or not she needed to visit the potty?  Every time I let her talk me out of sitting on the potty and "trying" I regret it.  EVERY stinkin' time!!  It's a process...there's so much for Mommy to learn!!&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We went to the zoo this weekend, always a favorite.  The flamingos, normally very sedentary, were performing some sort of group song and dance, quite an entertaining production.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/Sa6W11lWEtI/AAAAAAAAACg/6Pu3hF2HXh4/s320/SZoo.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309346862377341650" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Our littlest was simply along for the ride.  He enjoyed the breeze, the sounds and his thumb. Good stuff for a little guy!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/Sa6YHtbjoeI/AAAAAAAAACo/mPAlmYdPZ8Y/s320/JZoo.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5309348268938076642" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2591358282468517256-6285383345050840602?l=psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/feeds/6285383345050840602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2009/03/learning.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/6285383345050840602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/6285383345050840602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2009/03/learning.html' title='Learning...'/><author><name>Monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03154664827712498093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SZwmTxyKKBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/4LzMT52wARI/S220/Maine.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/Sa6W11lWEtI/AAAAAAAAACg/6Pu3hF2HXh4/s72-c/SZoo.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2591358282468517256.post-7410989050841454749</id><published>2009-02-21T03:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-21T10:27:15.801-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pay It Forward</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;I can't wait to get something fun from my friend Chandra and I'm already "planning" what I'll send.  Those who know me well know not to get too excited; I'm not very crafty!!&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The Rules&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Be one of the first THREE bloggers to leave a comment on this post, which then entitles you to a handmade item from me - something crafty or yummy, who knows?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Winners must post this challenge on their blog, meaning that they will Pay It Forward, creating a handmade gift -anything!- for the first THREE bloggers who leave a comment on their post about this giveaway!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. The gift that you send to your friends can be from any price range and you have 365 days to make/ship your item. This means you should be willing to maintain your blog at least until you receive your gift and have shipped your gifts. And, remember: It’s the Spirit and the Thought That Count!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. When you receive your gift, please feel free to blog about it, sharing appropriate pictures and comments!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you are not one of the Top Three Commenters on this post, you can still play along.Go ahead and start your own Pay It Forward chain, and encourage your blogging friends to do the same! SO, REMEMBER...Pay it forward!P.S. If you are one of the first three and don't have a blog to post you can take the next three friends that call you just to chat and Pay It Forward to them! Then challenge them to do the same. Let's help make this a wonderful world to live in and show our friends how much we care for them&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2591358282468517256-7410989050841454749?l=psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/feeds/7410989050841454749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2009/02/pay-it-forward.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/7410989050841454749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/7410989050841454749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2009/02/pay-it-forward.html' title='Pay It Forward'/><author><name>Monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03154664827712498093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SZwmTxyKKBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/4LzMT52wARI/S220/Maine.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2591358282468517256.post-4809299276262721709</id><published>2009-02-20T13:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T19:41:39.019-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Gardening 101...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;This is the day we began our garden...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;It's a first really, well at least a first for many, many years.  I vaguely remember planting a garden with my grandad when I was a little girl.  It seemed huge at the time.  We're not going to be quite that ambitious, but I am looking forward to some fresh herbs and veggies.  So, here are all the supplies a good gardner should need, or at least all I could bring myself to buy at Wal-Mart.  There were also some pretty cool little "greenhouse" gizmos, but I refrained.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SZ8o_2TDTDI/AAAAAAAAABo/fOUNz5HfIRY/s320/GettingStarted.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305003963438025778" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I had a couple of great helpers...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;My son, who had the job of smiling, cooing and blowing bubbles.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SZ8pACNW9RI/AAAAAAAAAB4/Sf2jCr3Rmm8/s320/Helper%232.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305003966635373842" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;And my daughter, who was in charge of keeping up with the seeds.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SZ8o_yuiT0I/AAAAAAAAABw/QYLN89gW-00/s320/Helper%231.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305003962479562562" /&gt;We had such fun putting the dirt into the little containers and then adding water and the seeds. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SZ8pAUQOdLI/AAAAAAAAACA/1Oh6l9ESrSw/s320/PlantingSeeds.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305003971479237810" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;I certainly hope we reap a harvest...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SZ8pAjStqXI/AAAAAAAAACI/-QUEG3b7fFY/s320/FinalProduct.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305003975516203378" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2591358282468517256-4809299276262721709?l=psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/feeds/4809299276262721709/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2009/02/gardening-101.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/4809299276262721709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/4809299276262721709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2009/02/gardening-101.html' title='Gardening 101...'/><author><name>Monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03154664827712498093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SZwmTxyKKBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/4LzMT52wARI/S220/Maine.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SZ8o_2TDTDI/AAAAAAAAABo/fOUNz5HfIRY/s72-c/GettingStarted.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2591358282468517256.post-2478915162979619024</id><published>2009-02-18T07:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-19T10:41:51.044-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Growing up so fast...</title><content type='html'>This is the day my daughter gets her first haircut.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Honestly, she doesn't have much hair, but it has been growing in in such a funky way, I wanted to get some "shape" cut into it.  Yes, I probably could have done it myself, but I was afraid.  So, we went to the salon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here she is prior to the big event...so cute!   &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SZ2izNXvx3I/AAAAAAAAABQ/XlqfdCazH4I/s320/Before.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304574936758601586" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything started out great.  We talked about it all morning and on the way to the salon.  She was excited, kept touching her hair, us girls, we always like a new hairdo you know.  At any rate, we got to the salon and she picked a toy to hold and sat in the chair like such a big girl.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SZ2jE8I8iqI/AAAAAAAAABY/3X--kg4jNO8/s320/WaitingPatiently.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304575241370765986" /&gt;She was taking absolutely everything in...she loved all of the visiting and all of the activity going on around her.  However, the minute Mrs. Crystal, her hairdresser, put that cute car cape around her neck she was done in.  She wanted nothing to do with the entire process.  Eventually, she just sat in my lap and all was well. Afterwards she gave Mrs. Crystal a hug and off we went to show daddy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Isn't she precious?  AND yes, there is a difference...in person, there is definitely a difference!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SZ2jk408IuI/AAAAAAAAABg/8YD-_2kCZpk/s320/After.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5304575790237360866" /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2591358282468517256-2478915162979619024?l=psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/feeds/2478915162979619024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2009/02/growing-up-so-fast.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/2478915162979619024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2591358282468517256/posts/default/2478915162979619024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://psalmoneeighteen.blogspot.com/2009/02/growing-up-so-fast.html' title='Growing up so fast...'/><author><name>Monica</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03154664827712498093</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='21' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SZwmTxyKKBI/AAAAAAAAAAM/4LzMT52wARI/S220/Maine.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_xrc6AN9WBkA/SZ2izNXvx3I/AAAAAAAAABQ/XlqfdCazH4I/s72-c/Before.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>
