<?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-6514522334328681200</id><updated>2011-07-28T16:35:04.622-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Calgon, take me away!!</title><subtitle type='html'>My corner of cyber space to rejoice, cry, vent, or throw the fit that I want to but know that I really shouldn't in front of my children</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>88</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-1516466359841243280</id><published>2011-04-03T21:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-04-03T21:51:41.897-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My New Blog.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family: &amp;quot;Helvetica Neue&amp;quot;, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"&gt;I have been wanting to do a cooking blog for a while now.&amp;nbsp; I finally decided to dive in and learn as I go.&amp;nbsp; It will include cooking, canning, food storage on a tight budget and cooking tips.&amp;nbsp; So far I have enjoyed it.&amp;nbsp; I hope that you get a chance to visit it.&amp;nbsp; The address is: &lt;a href="http://www.dancingnthekitchen.com/"&gt;http://www.dancingnthekitchen.com/&lt;/a&gt;.&amp;nbsp; Feel free to stop on by, leave comments, requests and pass it on to others.&amp;nbsp; I am also doing a guest post every Friday on my friend's blog at: &lt;a href="http://www.mycouponlibrary.com/"&gt;http://www.mycouponlibrary.com/&lt;/a&gt;.&amp;nbsp; She has tons of great money saving ideas and links to deals.&amp;nbsp; Check her out!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6514522334328681200-1516466359841243280?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/1516466359841243280/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=1516466359841243280' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/1516466359841243280'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/1516466359841243280'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2011/04/my-new-blog.html' title='My New Blog.'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16319333985251780473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RgwU2JhwWRE/SK322XRhbSI/AAAAAAAAAAM/wkHdX2jEHoo/S220/DeLana+school+photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-5309822181378780599</id><published>2011-03-16T16:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-03-16T16:22:03.387-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Everything!</title><content type='html'>This last year has been a crazy one in my life.  I'm not going to whine about all the things that have happened to me.  I am however going to post about how my incredible husband has kept me grounded and mostly sane.  If it wasn't for him, I would have gone off the deep end.  He has been the positive one through everything and I am extremely grateful.  He has taken on the full load when I was at the brink of despair and pulled me back in.  I love him for all that he has done, but even more for all that he has been for me and the kids!  I heard a song today written and performed by Michael Buble that to me describes my feelings about Steve.  I know that it is a guy singing about a girl, but the sentiment of the song still fits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="padding: 3px; width: 400px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object width="400" height="334"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/x5DciaqZE0w?fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/x5DciaqZE0w?fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="400" height="334"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.lyricsty.com"&gt;Lyrics&lt;/a&gt; | &lt;a href="http://www.lyricsty.com/michael-buble-lyrics.html"&gt;Michael Buble lyrics&lt;/a&gt; - &lt;a href="http://www.lyricsty.com/michael-buble-everything-lyrics.html"&gt;Everything lyrics&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6514522334328681200-5309822181378780599?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/5309822181378780599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=5309822181378780599' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/5309822181378780599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/5309822181378780599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2011/03/everything.html' title='Everything!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-4622273430625764409</id><published>2011-03-10T13:10:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-10T13:19:29.403-08:00</updated><title type='text'>things I didn't know about Grandpa</title><content type='html'>I learned so new things about my Grandpa, Tom Mounts, while I was in Carnation for his funeral.  I learned that he is survived by his sister, Mary June.  I learned that his father died when he was 12.  That he quit school at the age of 14 to provide for his mother and 2 sisters.  I learned that he was born in Colorado.  That he worked as a miner.  That he would often bring home the less fortunate, feed, clothe them if necessary, give them all his spare money and drop them off with a bag of food to aid them on their way.  I learned that he ran a mechanic shop. &lt;br /&gt;There are many things that I did know already.  Grandpa was a great man who practiced what he taught especially charity.  I love him greatly and will miss our little visits.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6514522334328681200-4622273430625764409?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/4622273430625764409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=4622273430625764409' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/4622273430625764409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/4622273430625764409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2011/03/things-i-didnt-know-about-grandpa.html' title='things I didn&apos;t know about Grandpa'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-2283527194533829024</id><published>2011-03-04T14:11:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-03-04T14:51:58.234-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Memories Of Thomas Thatcher Mounts</title><content type='html'>Thomas Thatcher Mounts, or as I more affectionately called him, Grandpa, passed away this morning.  I knew it was coming because my mom called me yesterday and told me that he was in the hospital.  He was the last surviving child of Melva Thatcher and John Amer Mounts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     Grandpa, or as my younger cousins called him, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Grumpa&lt;/span&gt;, was a gruff, but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;loveable&lt;/span&gt; man.  Last night as I was thinking about him, I realized that I have no pictures of him!  Of course that made me cry, but then I realized that the pictures of my favorite memories are tucked safely in my heart and mind.  All I had to do was close my eyes and I was back walking through a field with him, Brett, Troy and Kathy on our way to his "favorite" fishing hole on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Sinkut&lt;/span&gt; river on the edge of the 320 (property that he and Dad farmed).  I can see him standing at the edge of the river showing us how to cast our lines up river and let them float down river to tease the fish, hoping one of them would take the bait.  I remember him cutting the hook out of my hand that had been stuck there when a wild lure came flying at my face.  "Hold still honey, I don't want to accidentally cut you.  Be quiet or you will scare all of the fish away." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     I remember butchering chickens with him and how he laughed when I got chased by a headless chicken.  His question to me was, "Now, who is the chicken here and who is the girl?"  I got my first anatomy lesson when he showed us the developing eggs in one of the hens that we had butchered.  I remember how concerned he was with making sure that the chickens felt as little pain as possible.  He always told us that we needed to be kind to animals because they too were God's creations.&lt;br /&gt;     I remember going to his little shop at the airport house and watching him tinker on things.  I thought he could fix anything broken.  I remember him holding me when Mom was in the hospital and letting me cry and then calming my fears and telling me it would be alright and that she would be home soon.  I remember cooking in that kitchen with him and Grandma.&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;      I remember going to Grandpa's house out by &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Sinkut&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Mtn&lt;/span&gt;, walking through the door and having him pick me up and dance me across the floor.  Then watching in awe as he danced around the kitchen with Grandma, during which she giggled and said, "Oh, Tommy, stop it, I have work to do."&lt;br /&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;     I remember dressing out a moose with him and him teaching me the finer points of skinning an animal.  Catching horses and doctoring their wounds. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     I remember playing Rummy Tile with him.  He would take what seemed like forever to make his move and then sit there and go, "tick, tick, tick" when it was our turn.&lt;br /&gt;I remember riding horses up to Crystal Lake and stopping to pick Thimble berries or blueberries. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;       Grandpa and Grandma moved to Washington when I was a teenager.  When ever we would visit, he would always take time and talk to me.  I remember the night before my wedding when he came in and sat on the edge of the hide-a-bed and asked me if I was sure that getting married was what I wanted to do.  Then he asked if I was sure it was what I was supposed to do.  Grandpa told me that if my husband ever treated me bad, to let him know because he would "tan that boy's hide" amongst other things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     I think one of my favorite memories was on a visit we made to Seattle when Cameron got married.   Grandpa's mind wasn't what it used to be and I had been warned that he had been pinching the kids when they got near him.  No sooner had we walked through the door, then Sidnee ran up to Grandpa, climbed right up on his lap and said, "I sure love you Grandpa".  He wrapped his arms around her and put his cheek against hers, squeezed her and said, "well I love you too!"  He had a big smile on his face.  I hadn't  seen him smile like that in a long time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The more I reflect, the more I remember.  I have so many memories of Grandpa that would make this post into a short story, but I will save that for another time.  So this is it for now.  Until we meet again, may you have all the tamales your belly can hold!  I love you, Grandpa!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6514522334328681200-2283527194533829024?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/2283527194533829024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=2283527194533829024' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/2283527194533829024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/2283527194533829024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2011/03/memories-of-thomas-thatcher-mounts.html' title='Memories Of Thomas Thatcher Mounts'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-5013263968621687500</id><published>2010-09-19T10:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-09-19T11:23:36.132-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Achieving balance</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am finding myself frustrated off and on as I am trying to juggle all of the comings and goings in our house with keeping the house clean and stocked with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;necessities&lt;/span&gt;.  I am so tired by the end of the day that I walk but the laundry basket that is in dire need of folding and then returned to its rightful owner because I know they won't come to collect the clean laundry.  I have stressed enough about it that I get headaches.  I know it is possible to achieve the much needed balance in our lives that I desire.  I know this because I know the Lord wants us to have balance in all things.  Sometimes it is hard for me to say no to helping others because so many have helped and continue to help us at this point in our lives.  I also know that we must pick and choose what we can and should do.  With that said, here are some small things that I have done to start on the path to achieving not only balance in my life but for our whole household.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/TJZP15PpXdI/AAAAAAAAAww/wXAewaoavuQ/s1600/scales.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 238px; height: 212px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/TJZP15PpXdI/AAAAAAAAAww/wXAewaoavuQ/s400/scales.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5518686180707229138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  Get rid of things that we are not using.  Give them to someone who needs them now.  If I should need it in the future, then someone will have one that I can borrow or have.&lt;br /&gt;2.  Make my children responsible in helping keep the house clean.  We now have a bag that has 4 daily chores in it and another that has 4 weekly chores in it.  Everyday when we get home from school, each child draws a daily chore and does that chore before they change or snack.  The dailies are: sweep the floor, rotate the laundry, take out the trash and unload the dishwasher.  Weekly chores are: mop the floor, vacuum the living room, put all the shoes in their &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;cubbies&lt;/span&gt;, and wash dirty hand prints off the walls.  The dailies literally take only 3 minutes each while the weeklies take about twice as long.  This is one of the best things we have done and I still don't know why we didn't think of it sooner.  BTW, the kids are the ones who chose to draw rather than me assign the tasks.&lt;br /&gt;3.  No friends can come over during the week.  We have too much going on and homework doesn't get done.  They are allowed to come on Friday and Saturday if chores are done and rooms are clean.&lt;br /&gt;4.  Not feel guilty about telling my kids and friends no.  Still very hard for me to do, but learning it is okay to tell someone that I don't have time to do something right now.&lt;br /&gt;5. Play the scriptures on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;CD&lt;/span&gt; in my house while we are doing chores.  It really helps keep the peace.&lt;br /&gt;6. Pray often.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Some days&lt;/span&gt; I have an all day conversation with the Lord.  I know he hears me because on those really hard days, he sends me some love through a friend.&lt;br /&gt;7.  Be grateful by saying thank you often to the Lord and those who lighten my load.  Say thank you to my kids for not fighting, for getting their homework done, for being a good example, for helping someone in need.&lt;br /&gt;8. Not sweating the small stuff.  The laundry will wait.  It may get wrinkled in the meantime, but my kids lives won't wait.  Them wanting my time and attention seems to get less every year.  The 12 year old doesn't need me as much as the 5 year old, but I make sure I put down whatever I am doing and look into her eyes as she speaks to me.  I do the same with all of my kids.  If I happen to be busy in the kitchen, I have them come sit at the counter and talk while I do what needs to be done, making sure that I make eye contact every few seconds so they know I am paying attention.  Sometimes I even make them help me while we visit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My list is still growing and I am still trying to achieve balance in my life.  It is an everyday struggle for me as I am not perfect and do not claim to be even close to perfection.  I am still looking for an elusive cleaning fairy to take care of my house so that I can spend more time doing other things so if any of you has one that you will lend or give me, I promise that I will give it a good home.&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/6514522334328681200-5013263968621687500?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/5013263968621687500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=5013263968621687500' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/5013263968621687500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/5013263968621687500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2010/09/achieving-balance.html' title='Achieving balance'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/TJZP15PpXdI/AAAAAAAAAww/wXAewaoavuQ/s72-c/scales.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-3019472630215107905</id><published>2010-08-01T22:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-01T22:22:13.062-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Are we there yet?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Ever have one of those moments, or maybe days when&lt;/span&gt; you just wish you knew where life was leading you?  Not mad at your current situation, just wish you knew what the plan was?  I have been having a lot of those days lately.  I am a planner.  I don't like to leave things until the last minute or to chance.  In fact I already have started Christmas lists for my kids.  I really have a hard time being spontaneous or flying by the seat of my pants.  Last minute schedule changes really frustrate me. &lt;br /&gt;So in our current state of household affairs, I am really struggling with not know what is coming next.  I actually feel very calm and know that the Lord is in control, that my husband is doing everything he can for the family and grateful that our kids are old enough for me to have the opportunity to work during the hours that they are at school.  I am not angry at all or at anyone.  In fact this has given us a great opportunity to draw closer to the Lord and each other, to teach our kids the difference between a want and a need and to really live by the promptings of the spirit.&lt;br /&gt;Yet here I am, the planner, struggling with living in the moment and rolling with the waves of life.  I don't know what tomorrow will bring because all of the plans that I made yesterday were put aside out of necessity.   I don't know where I will be next month let alone next year. &lt;br /&gt;It has been very interesting to be in this place where life is all up in the air, but be calm and at ease, knowing that the Lord has something in store for us, but the time for Him to let us know has not yet come to pass.  We love our ward family and at the moment are content to be here and serve where we are needed.&lt;br /&gt;I am so grateful for prayer and scripture that provides peace in a time of turmoil, for kids who are trying to understand and be patient, for leaders and friends who are a constant boon in this time of our life.  I am grateful for obedience to principles that have been taught and for the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;privilege&lt;/span&gt; of being able to go to the temple whenever I need or want.  I am especially grateful for the tender mercies that the Lord sees fit to send my way when I feel like I am about to give up and give in.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6514522334328681200-3019472630215107905?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/3019472630215107905/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=3019472630215107905' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/3019472630215107905'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/3019472630215107905'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2010/08/are-we-there-yet.html' title='Are we there yet?'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-787908164354082994</id><published>2010-07-12T07:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-12T08:40:02.151-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Girls Camp 2010!</title><content type='html'>The first day of camp was mainly setting up our camp.  We were in tents so a lot of the girls had to be taught how to set up a tent properly.  After tents were up, those who wanted to went down to the field for games.  We started out with the human knot, then played missionary tag, then a water balloon fight broke out thanks to the priesthood.  The girls had lots of fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After breakfast the next day, we were off to the confidence course. There were 4 things to do so we broke up into 4 groups. Three of the things were almost ridiculously easy, but the climbing wall was not. I think that it was the hardest thing that anyone did. It was a flat 12 foot wall with a knotted rope to climb up. With Steve at the top and Mike at the bottom, each person that tried made it up the wall with the rest of the group cheering them on. It was very intimidating, but very satisfying when you could stand at the top. It really started the bonding process. Our theme was "Be strong and have courage, for you are not alone". With all the help and cheering going on you knew that you were not alone and it definitely took courage to attempt this. I loved that the leaders did it too. We all did what we were asking the girls to do and I think that made a difference to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/TDsvUMciD1I/AAAAAAAAAwY/Z7nVoNMsIVw/s1600/Picture+022.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493036194493239122" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/TDsvUMciD1I/AAAAAAAAAwY/Z7nVoNMsIVw/s400/Picture+022.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;This little monkey went up this wall 4 times.  I thought once was enough.  I still can't believe that my daughter is old enough to go to camp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/TDsvTpNyjtI/AAAAAAAAAwQ/We27dlqpqqM/s1600/Picture+018.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493036185036164818" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/TDsvTpNyjtI/AAAAAAAAAwQ/We27dlqpqqM/s400/Picture+018.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;This young lady is afraid of heights.  She made it to the top.  Here she is just hanging upside down to have her picture taken.  It was fun to get to know her.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/TDsvTEDaAmI/AAAAAAAAAwI/7ucCjUEN62k/s1600/Picture+059.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493036175060501090" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/TDsvTEDaAmI/AAAAAAAAAwI/7ucCjUEN62k/s400/Picture+059.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;This is one of our girls getting off the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;zip line&lt;/span&gt;.  We did this after lunch.  The girls loved it.  So did I.  You slide down a line that is about 30 feet over the parking lot going about 100 miles per hour.  All of our girls that could go on it did.  I don't think that some of them would have had the courage to do it if they hadn't done the wall first.  The leaders ran the zip line and it was fun to see the girls faces as they came down to the end of the line.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/TDsvSsg2fyI/AAAAAAAAAwA/2_-Gj0zGEAw/s1600/Picture+066.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493036168741551906" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/TDsvSsg2fyI/AAAAAAAAAwA/2_-Gj0zGEAw/s400/Picture+066.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;My daughter on the zip line.  We tried to get her to flip upside down, but she couldn't quite figure out how to flip over.  She went 4 times and loved it.  I went 6 and have the bruises from the harness because it has to be very tight.  I took a running jump off the platform and I did hang upside down every time.  I loved it!  We finished the evening with the bishopric bringing up Panda Express.  It was so tasty.  We had a testimony meeting afterwards around the camp fire.  Then there were camp songs.  This was my favorite day because the girls let down their walls and I got to know them better.  I really started to feel connected to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/TDsvSHeySnI/AAAAAAAAAv4/ajsZAQHD1wY/s1600/Picture+085.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493036158800775794" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/TDsvSHeySnI/AAAAAAAAAv4/ajsZAQHD1wY/s400/Picture+085.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The third day we went &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;canoeing&lt;/span&gt; and hiking.  I forgot how much I like to be out on the water in the canoe.  There was a game of dead fish boat tag started by one of the leaders that the girls loved.  Someone hit Steve in the face with it.  It left fish guts on his face and when he got back to shore, one of the leaders asked him why his face was bleeding.  As he was washing it off, one of the girls splashed him in the face with a huge &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;oar full&lt;/span&gt; of water.  He promptly grabbed her life jacket and tossed her in the water thinking that she would only land in ankle deep water.  She did, but she tripped while trying to get her balance and went all in.  She thought that it was pretty funny.  We ate lunch and then went back to camp to get dry clothes so that we could go on our hike.  Our hike was supposed to be an easy 5 mile hike.  It was moderate and we found out later that it is supposed to be a day hike.  We went up the mountain in 2 hours and 10 minutes and came down in 1 hour and 5 minutes.  It was a beautiful hike that I would love to do again without kids.  When we got back to camp, dinner was ready.  I was so tired that I could hardly eat.  We had crafts that night and I sat around the camp fire with my new friends until after midnight.  It was a very nice evening.  &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Every time&lt;/span&gt; I would think about going to bed, one of the girls would start talking to me so I stayed a little bit longer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Now that camp is over, I feel connected to the girls and want to spend more time with them.  One of the girls asked me on the way home if I still got to come to young women's with them.  I told her I wasn't sure.  She told me she hoped so because she liked having me around.  It made me feel good and like camp was a success.  There were a couple of girls who I wasn't sure if camp made any dent in their tough armor, but according to their mothers, they had a lot of fun.  They have already posted pictures on &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_4" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;facebook&lt;/span&gt; too.  It was fun to go to Y.W. yesterday.  The atmosphere was very different than it has been before when I have been in there.  There was no segregation of classes, everyone was mixed together and didn't seem to want to leave each other when it was time to go to their &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_5" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;separate&lt;/span&gt; classes.  It felt good to see the love that they were expressing for each other.  I guess that means that camp was a success.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6514522334328681200-787908164354082994?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/787908164354082994/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=787908164354082994' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/787908164354082994'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/787908164354082994'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2010/07/girls-camp-2010.html' title='Girls Camp 2010!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/TDsvUMciD1I/AAAAAAAAAwY/Z7nVoNMsIVw/s72-c/Picture+022.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-4478574549328268579</id><published>2010-06-14T15:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-14T16:29:22.127-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stay away from the dark side!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/TBa7BTczxQI/AAAAAAAAAvw/PMC5AeE5jMk/s1600/star+wars.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 113px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/TBa7BTczxQI/AAAAAAAAAvw/PMC5AeE5jMk/s400/star+wars.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5482775227445527810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;My boys recently discovered that my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;in laws&lt;/span&gt; owned all of the Star Wars movies.  They have been playing Lego Star Wars on the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Wii&lt;/span&gt; so they wanted to watch them.  Saturday night we finished the 6&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Th&lt;/span&gt; movie, which for us was Attack of the Clones.  We talked through the whole movie about good and evil, The Force vs. The Dark Side.  The kids without much prompting from me pointed out that fear, anger and revenge lead to the dark side.  We talked for about 15 minutes on the subject after the movie was over.  Yesterday as we were leaving church, my 2&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ND&lt;/span&gt; child was complaining because she wanted to stay there and come home with her dad.  I made her come with me anyway.  She started whining and complaining on the way out and I was not in the mood to deal with it.  I just turned to her and said, "don't go to the dark side!  Stay away from it young &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Jedi&lt;/span&gt;!"  She started telling me that I was not funny &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;even though&lt;/span&gt; she had a huge grin on her face.  I kept at it until she was laughing and of course it spurred another conversation on good and evil and Satan's influence that can pull us to His side, or now in our house, The Dark Side!  I love it when movies can help inspire conversations and encourage teaching opportunities.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6514522334328681200-4478574549328268579?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/4478574549328268579/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=4478574549328268579' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/4478574549328268579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/4478574549328268579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2010/06/stay-away-from-dark-side.html' title='Stay away from the dark side!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/TBa7BTczxQI/AAAAAAAAAvw/PMC5AeE5jMk/s72-c/star+wars.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-3602484003579529410</id><published>2010-06-01T16:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-01T16:36:50.117-07:00</updated><title type='text'>14 years!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Sunday was our 14 year anniversary.  Part of me can hardly believe that we have been married that long and the rest of me feels like it seems a lot longer.  We have had a lot of ups and downs, laughs and fights, but we have made it this far and keep on going.  I see in the news almost every day that some famous couple is getting a divorce.  Some have been married just a few years some for decades, but they all seem to act as if marriage is something to just throw away if it doesn't suit you anymore.  I know that there are some real justifications for ending a marriage, but most just let go because it takes too much "work".  I went into marriage knowing that it would be a lot of work, but if I gave it my all and so did my husband that the good would far out weigh the bad.  I remember when I was still single that a friend of my Dad's told me to stop waiting for the knight in shining armor or the house with the white picket fence because they just didn't exist.  I told him that I knew that I could have what I wanted because I had faith and knew that I was willing to work for the life that I wanted for my husband and family.  I am glad to say that fourteen years later, I still believe that and that I still am working on it.  We both are working on it.  Life has changed recently for us and that change has made me appreciate the things that Steve has sacrificed to provide for our family.  I think that he has learned to appreciate my role in our family as well.  It has been humbling for both of us but a good building block for our marriage.  You truly can not appreciate what someone else does until you really walk a mile in their shoes.  I think that we have come to appreciate those quiet moments that are a rare &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;occurrence&lt;/span&gt; more too.  Life has been good to us because we have the same goals and the same desires and that is to be together through it all, to spend quality and quantity time with our children and to work hard for the future that we want.  It has been a great fourteen years and here's to many times that!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/TAWVtTpMy1I/AAAAAAAAAvo/ZywLQZJmMgU/s1600/couple.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 378px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/TAWVtTpMy1I/AAAAAAAAAvo/ZywLQZJmMgU/s400/couple.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477949127365806930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1996&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/TAWVtGGF9rI/AAAAAAAAAvg/wTTXLx5V1bc/s1600/CIMG0070.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/TAWVtGGF9rI/AAAAAAAAAvg/wTTXLx5V1bc/s400/CIMG0070.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477949123728897714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14 years and 4 kids later.&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/6514522334328681200-3602484003579529410?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/3602484003579529410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=3602484003579529410' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/3602484003579529410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/3602484003579529410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2010/06/14-years.html' title='14 years!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/TAWVtTpMy1I/AAAAAAAAAvo/ZywLQZJmMgU/s72-c/couple.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-4751040916814283795</id><published>2010-05-28T20:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-28T20:30:44.339-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer's Here!</title><content type='html'>I have been on the count down for school to be out so that I could have the freedom to do what I want, when I want.  Don't get me wrong, I feel that it was a blessing to be able to work while Steve has been trying to get his business going.  I have loved working with the teenagers at Lakeview and I will miss them during the summer.  I was also blessed to be asked to go back to the school this fall to work.  I must admit though that I missed my little Piggy.  Missed picking him up from preschool and having him talk my ear off about all the things he learned that day.  Grateful that his Dad got to share in that and enjoy time with his son.  Grateful that Steve got to go on field trips with his kids.  I am glad that now I can pay attention to my garden, weed my strawberry bed and yes, even fold laundry and do dishes.  I am anxious to have some flexibility in my schedule again.  The thing that I am most excited for is to be able to cook.  I have missed cooking.  That is my stress release and I have really been missing it.  So bring on summer!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6514522334328681200-4751040916814283795?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/4751040916814283795/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=4751040916814283795' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/4751040916814283795'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/4751040916814283795'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2010/05/summers-here.html' title='Summer&apos;s Here!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-1922724864796075810</id><published>2010-04-10T22:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-10T23:07:39.253-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A change!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;I have been wanting to do something different with my hair.  I have had long layers in it for a couple of years now and I always do the same thing with it which is nothing.  It always gets pulled back in a ponytail or a clip.  When I was in Oregon this past week, I thought that my sister in law's hair was cute.  Steve agreed with me which I thought was funny because he generally does not like shorter haircuts on women and hers was only to about her chin.  So since he agreed with me and said it would be okay if I cut mine off, I started looking at shorter hair styles.  Now you need to keep in mind that I have very thick, coarse hair that has a lot of wave in it.  I knew I wanted layers but also know that if it isn't done just right I can tend to look like I have a ball on my shoulders.  I contacted a friend, told her what I wanted and we set an appointment.  I was really nervous last night and today, but so ready for a change.  I spent about 2 hours online yesterday looking at medium length hair styles, but most of the ones that I liked said that they were suited for fine and thin hair.  For me that means that I would end up looking like a puff ball on &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;steroids&lt;/span&gt;!  I finally found a style I liked and posted it on &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;facebook&lt;/span&gt;.  I had a friend request a before and after picture.  Following are the results of that request.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Before&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Can you believe the mop that I have been carrying around.  It went to the middle of my back.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/S8FjrGlHlWI/AAAAAAAAAvY/kygPXaymHfE/s1600/CIMG0121.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458753815501575522" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/S8FjrGlHlWI/AAAAAAAAAvY/kygPXaymHfE/s400/CIMG0121.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After Tessa cut off 10 inches to donate to Locks of Love.  Something that I always wanted to do and finally got the chance.  Don't think that I was noble and planned the haircut for when my hair was long enough, it was totally by coincidence and I wouldn't have thought about it if she hadn't suggested.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/S8FjqnFgtvI/AAAAAAAAAvQ/VbGBSeRNUkI/s1600/CIMG0122.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458753807047505650" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/S8FjqnFgtvI/AAAAAAAAAvQ/VbGBSeRNUkI/s400/CIMG0122.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Ready to get down to business.  Can you see the wave in the back of my hair?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/S8FjqFKRAMI/AAAAAAAAAvI/vOAfmft4mDE/s1600/CIMG0138.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458753797940641986" border="0" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/S8FjqFKRAMI/AAAAAAAAAvI/vOAfmft4mDE/s400/CIMG0138.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; The After!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;I think it is so cute and that I might just want a few more layers in it.  I am going to give it a week and see if I still want more layers after I wash it and play with it myself.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/S8FjprDkzGI/AAAAAAAAAvA/1y_zyComeGM/s1600/CIMG0165.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458753790933257314" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/S8FjprDkzGI/AAAAAAAAAvA/1y_zyComeGM/s400/CIMG0165.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; Thanks to Tessa who made my day and to Karen for the inspiration and my dad who told me I was starting to look like a grandma for giving me the nerve to make such a change!&lt;br /&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/6514522334328681200-1922724864796075810?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/1922724864796075810/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=1922724864796075810' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/1922724864796075810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/1922724864796075810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2010/04/change.html' title='A change!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/S8FjrGlHlWI/AAAAAAAAAvY/kygPXaymHfE/s72-c/CIMG0121.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-3589415028892982634</id><published>2010-03-19T21:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-19T21:10:31.445-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Count Your Blessings!</title><content type='html'>To try and be positive about this jobless situation going on in our home I decided to start writing doworagen the tender mercies that happen every day in our lives.  It has really helped and the more I look, the more I find.  Some of the blessings that I am grateful for are:&lt;br /&gt;1. my family&lt;br /&gt;2. my religion&lt;br /&gt;3. my friends&lt;br /&gt;4. others who help my children feel important too&lt;br /&gt;5. vehicles that run well&lt;br /&gt;6. my health&lt;br /&gt;7. a roof over my head&lt;br /&gt;8. a severance package&lt;br /&gt;9. being able to work&lt;br /&gt;10. Food storage&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when life gets you down, start counting your blessings instead of your wishes and it will lighten your load!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6514522334328681200-3589415028892982634?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/3589415028892982634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=3589415028892982634' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/3589415028892982634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/3589415028892982634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2010/03/count-your-blessings.html' title='Count Your Blessings!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-1375429793897035210</id><published>2010-03-13T06:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-13T07:45:23.674-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Now which way is up?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;I am currently feeling a little upside down and backwards.  We have had a major change in the last couple of days and I am feeling like I am grasping at air and been turned on my head.  Steve on the other hand seems to be very calm.  I, however, am having a hard time remembering who is in ultimate control of my life and this universe.  I always run at full speed trying to take care of everything and everyone.  I don't deal well with situations that are out of my control.  I have a hard time letting others, including the Lord be in control, especially when it is my life involved.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/S5upgFS9AxI/AAAAAAAAAu4/jzVdWovqjL4/s1600-h/Upside-Down.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 292px; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5448134542877328146" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/S5upgFS9AxI/AAAAAAAAAu4/jzVdWovqjL4/s400/Upside-Down.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;On Thursday I was sitting on my bed folding laundry and watching a movie.  Sidnee and &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Jaxon&lt;/span&gt; were home.  I heard the garage door open which was really odd because I thought the kids were playing on the computer.  My first thought was that &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;Jaxon&lt;/span&gt; got mad at Sidnee so he was running away. (He runs away more often then I care to admit)  I peeked out to see what was going on and Steve was home.  Strange to say the least.  I went out to see what was up and he pointed to his eyes because he was talking on his phone.  He quickly got off and informed me that he had been laid off!  I thought he was joking.  He had been to the eye doctor and had his eyes &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;dilated&lt;/span&gt;.  I was thinking that they had sent him home because he couldn't see to read.  When I saw all the stuff from his desk in some boxes in his car I was pretty sure that he was not joking now!  My world came crumbling down on the top of my head!  How were we going to pay for our home, let alone food, and all the necessities that you need to sustain life as you know it?  So many things ran through my brain in a short matter of time.  We really didn't get much time to talk as his phone kept ringing off the hook.  &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_3" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;Apparently&lt;/span&gt; the decision was made outside of Utah by someone who was just looking at numbers.  His company made 7 layoffs that day across their offices in the country, so it was not like someone had it out for Steve.  He got laid off, not fired, so they gave him a severance package that should last us through the end of June.  What amazes me the most is how calm and sure Steve is about the whole thing.  He is very positive where I am the one usually reassuring him.  He is sure that there is a better job out there that he would not have found if he was still at E-Trade.  I on the other hand am a bundle of stress.  I am wondering what is going to happen if he doesn't find a job in this market before we run out of money.  There are so many people losing jobs right now that I am really struggling with this.  I know that I need to stop climbing the walls and just do what I can about the things that I can.  I can clean my house.  I can paint the walls.  I can get ready to plant my garden.  I can put more food in our food storage in case it takes longer than June to get a job.  I can continue fulfilling my calling and being a part of my community.  Hopefully I can figure out in the mean time, and I will emphasize the word MEAN, how to turn myself right side up!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/S5upZ6oh0hI/AAAAAAAAAuw/4nKVBWPOOnw/s1600-h/upside+down+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&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/6514522334328681200-1375429793897035210?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/1375429793897035210/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=1375429793897035210' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/1375429793897035210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/1375429793897035210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2010/03/now-which-way-is-up.html' title='Now which way is up?'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/S5upgFS9AxI/AAAAAAAAAu4/jzVdWovqjL4/s72-c/Upside-Down.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-3851570211231813570</id><published>2010-01-19T23:27:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-19T23:33:22.210-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fantastic!</title><content type='html'>I love the little moments that you get once in a while with your children that just make your day.  I got one tonight when everyone was complaining about dinner.  Jaxon was the only one who was not complaining.  Our conversation went like this.&lt;br /&gt;Jaxon: "Mom this chicken is fantastic!  That means really good, right?"&lt;br /&gt;Me: " Yes Jaxon, fantastic means really good."&lt;br /&gt;Jaxon: "Well I think this chicken is fantastic and they are all wrong.  It is so fantastic that I would like some more please."&lt;br /&gt;Me: "I am glad that you think it is fantastic and I would love to give you more."&lt;br /&gt;Jaxon: "Thanks for the fantastic chicken Mom!  I really like it because I am a hungry boy!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't you just love it when they make your day like that.  Of course by this time the other kids were giggling and decided to eat the "Fantastic Chicken"  which is what I think we will call this dish from now on!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6514522334328681200-3851570211231813570?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/3851570211231813570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=3851570211231813570' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/3851570211231813570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/3851570211231813570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2010/01/fantastic.html' title='Fantastic!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-7785859535891679866</id><published>2009-12-05T09:29:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-05T09:53:53.156-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Falling down or apart?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SxqZaV_pXmI/AAAAAAAAAuo/YIDMdpYCcnY/s1600-h/needle+to+the+neck.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 301px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SxqZaV_pXmI/AAAAAAAAAuo/YIDMdpYCcnY/s400/needle+to+the+neck.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5411806580098817634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;this picture is similar to what I had to have done to me yesterday.  I almost fell out of a tree in September.  I caught myself with my right arm and had to hang there in order to not crush &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Jaxon&lt;/span&gt; who was playing beneath me.  Needless to say, it caused some damage to my right arm.  I have been having pins and needles ever since.  There has also been some numbness.  I let it go because I thought that it would eventually get better.  When I saw some blood on my hand about a month ago and discovered that I had smashed my finger but not felt it because my hand was numb.  So after a month of visiting a variety of doctors, the final verdict is that I have 2 bulging disks in my neck that are pressing down on nerves and causing the pain.  Yesterday I had a cervical nerve root block done.  They insert a needle through your neck to the nerve root in your spine and put a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;steroid&lt;/span&gt; in it.  This is similar to a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;cortisone&lt;/span&gt; shot, but a little more of a process.  They have to use an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;xray&lt;/span&gt; machine to guide a needle to the right spot.  A little scary especially when they told me to hold still so that they didn't hit the main artery that is right there.   The procedure wasn't as bad as I expected, but once the numbing wore off I was miserable.  Today I feel like someone has jumped up and down on my neck and head.  I am told that it will get better, but today I think I would rather have the pins and needles.  The bad news?  I have one more disk that the doctor wants to do this to.&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/6514522334328681200-7785859535891679866?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/7785859535891679866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=7785859535891679866' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/7785859535891679866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/7785859535891679866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2009/12/falling-down-or-apart.html' title='Falling down or apart?'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SxqZaV_pXmI/AAAAAAAAAuo/YIDMdpYCcnY/s72-c/needle+to+the+neck.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-5010084257212710013</id><published>2009-11-17T11:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-29T18:19:28.479-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Never, never, never land!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I got to go away for a weekend with my friend.  It was just us girls.  After going the back way to get to our destination, we finally arrived in Never, never, never land.  My first question was, " do you hear that?"  I was referring to the silence.  We brought movies and games, but spent 2 days watching tv as neither of us have ours hooked up to satellite or cable.  We rearranged the furniture and then spread the table with all the spread so that we wouldn't have to get up except to use the facilities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SwL9hQtdGlI/AAAAAAAAAuY/8nTtcXJQazM/s1600/Picture+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SwL9hQtdGlI/AAAAAAAAAuY/8nTtcXJQazM/s400/Picture+001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405161250661145170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Our rearrangement of furniture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SwL9g_ne50I/AAAAAAAAAuQ/hq94pjWX-RY/s1600/Picture+002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SwL9g_ne50I/AAAAAAAAAuQ/hq94pjWX-RY/s400/Picture+002.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405161246072694594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;some of the goodies we brought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SwL9gkZpu0I/AAAAAAAAAuI/igL84v40lrU/s1600/Picture+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SwL9gkZpu0I/AAAAAAAAAuI/igL84v40lrU/s400/Picture+004.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5405161238766926658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our version of heaven.  The reason for the title, we NEVER heard anyone say MOMMY!, NEVER had to tell anyone to be quiet, and NEVER had to do anything that we didn't want to except pack up and leave.  We really appreciated the husbands who made this nice little get away possible.  Next time we will take them with us so that they can enjoy NEVER, NEVER, NEVER land too!&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/6514522334328681200-5010084257212710013?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/5010084257212710013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=5010084257212710013' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/5010084257212710013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/5010084257212710013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2009/11/never-never-never-land.html' title='Never, never, never land!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SwL9hQtdGlI/AAAAAAAAAuY/8nTtcXJQazM/s72-c/Picture+001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-1662807180062652319</id><published>2009-09-21T20:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-21T20:41:03.415-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Fruits of my labors!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SrhF3GFBtbI/AAAAAAAAAuA/ECtmrK_fU70/s1600-h/Picture+056.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SrhF3GFBtbI/AAAAAAAAAuA/ECtmrK_fU70/s400/Picture+056.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5384130167348245938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;It is definitely the harvest season.  We have been busy at our house bottling and freezing and eating whatever fresh foods we can get our hands on.  In this picture are the foods we have done in the last 2 days with the exception of the peaches in the back which were done a week ago.  From left to right the contenders are: back row - applesauce, strawberry jam, chicken and sliced peaches.  Front row - peach jam, salsa and bread.  The good news is that it all tastes very good and we haven't gotten tired of it yet.  We have pears, green peppers and more tomatoes and jalapenos in our garden that we need to do.  We forgot to put the tomato sauce that we made last week up here.  We have also shredded a bunch of zucchini and frozen it, plus used it as filler in our taco meat.  Kids had no clue it was even in there.  I am wondering if I could cube it like hashbrowns and use it that way.  Think the kids would ever figure it out?  If anyone has any fruits or veggies that they don't have time or energy to put up, let me know and we will gladly take them off your hands.&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/6514522334328681200-1662807180062652319?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/1662807180062652319/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=1662807180062652319' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/1662807180062652319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/1662807180062652319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2009/09/fruits-of-my-labors.html' title='Fruits of my labors!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SrhF3GFBtbI/AAAAAAAAAuA/ECtmrK_fU70/s72-c/Picture+056.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-386487390148576943</id><published>2009-09-11T14:19:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-11T14:19:22.301-07:00</updated><title type='text'>All tuckered out!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/Sqq-LhfuqaI/AAAAAAAAAt4/icrI9jNgQCM/s1600-h/Jaxon.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 308px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/Sqq-LhfuqaI/AAAAAAAAAt4/icrI9jNgQCM/s400/Jaxon.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5380321810026768802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This was what the little man looked like 10 minutes after he got home from preschool.  He loves it, but I guess stretching his brain muscles makes him extra tired because he asked me if he could lay down on my bed and take a nap.&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/6514522334328681200-386487390148576943?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/386487390148576943/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=386487390148576943' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/386487390148576943'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/386487390148576943'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2009/09/all-tuckered-out.html' title='All tuckered out!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/Sqq-LhfuqaI/AAAAAAAAAt4/icrI9jNgQCM/s72-c/Jaxon.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-6579522449359424248</id><published>2009-09-03T12:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-03T12:41:19.859-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I am Freddy Freeloader!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SqAY4vYGYEI/AAAAAAAAAto/KDjdBFLeKmE/s1600-h/freeloader.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 231px; height: 353px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SqAY4vYGYEI/AAAAAAAAAto/KDjdBFLeKmE/s400/freeloader.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377325318149660738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of my girlfriends, well okay, most of my girlfriends are trying to eat healthier and are working out.  I am into the eating healthier, just not the working out so much.  Give me a volleyball, basketball, softball or futsol (yes, Amy, I do like it) game any day.  That is my kind of workout.  I just have so much going on that I get tired just looking at my running shoes.  I do wear them to play the above mentioned games.  My girlfriends are getting together for lunch to support each other in their endeavor of this healthier eating habit, but they don't do sugar!  I have started reading labels and everything that I like has sugar in it, even sour cream!  I am all about eating more fruits and veggies plus having smaller portions, but I like my chocolate zucchini cookies and my corn tortillas.  I have been invited to join them in this new challenge, but honestly I am having commitment issues.  My biggest challenge is that I am a substitute teacher and never know when I might be working which would throw everybody off, plus I am going to eat a cookie if I want or a piece of pie.  I don't over do the desserts, I never have.  I just don't crave desserts like most people do.  I am quite happy with a nice piece of ripe fruit.  I don't crave chocolate and I have always eaten pretty healthy unless you stick a cream puff in front of me, then I crumble.  So needless to say I have been enjoying lunch with my girlies but haven't hosted and I am starting to feel like a freeloader.  Maybe I should give in and host a lunch.  Taco soup anyone or are beans off limits too?&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/6514522334328681200-6579522449359424248?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/6579522449359424248/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=6579522449359424248' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/6579522449359424248'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/6579522449359424248'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2009/09/i-am-freddy-freeloader.html' title='I am Freddy Freeloader!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SqAY4vYGYEI/AAAAAAAAAto/KDjdBFLeKmE/s72-c/freeloader.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-1996935880843204593</id><published>2009-08-24T07:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-24T08:20:10.332-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Garett's married!</title><content type='html'>My little brother, Garett Moore got married this past Saturday.  After what he thinks was years of searching, he finally found the girl of his dreams.  We left Thursday to head to his wedding in Spokane, WA.   We spent about 24 hours in Boise with our friends, the Hulls before heading on to Moses Lake on Friday.  We took family photos on Friday since we were all there.  Each family wore a color so you could tell who belonged to whom.  It took a bit since there were 15 grandkids to get to smile at one time.  I think that the pictures turned out really good.  It has been 4 1/2 years since we took the last family photo and we have added 5 grandchildren and 2 in-laws since then.   Here is our family photo.  Poor little Mason has some virus and had sores in and out of his mouth.  He was in so much pain as the picture shows.  The only thing that didn't hurt to eat was icecream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Our family&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt; &lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SpKrFCL4mwI/AAAAAAAAAs4/WxF5Dy_UHH0/s1600-h/CIMG0070.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SpKrFCL4mwI/AAAAAAAAAs4/WxF5Dy_UHH0/s400/CIMG0070.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373545408380836610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The Moore family - extended version&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SpKrET-TCBI/AAAAAAAAAsw/5mFRRMOLrKo/s1600-h/CIMG0055.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SpKrET-TCBI/AAAAAAAAAsw/5mFRRMOLrKo/s400/CIMG0055.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373545395975817234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The originals&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SpKugM1bl_I/AAAAAAAAAtg/yqKnzwEmSHY/s1600-h/CIMG0060.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SpKugM1bl_I/AAAAAAAAAtg/yqKnzwEmSHY/s400/CIMG0060.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373549173630801906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Us with our spouses&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SpKtyu8T8iI/AAAAAAAAAtI/ZZ7tV_paCtA/s1600-h/CIMG0061.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SpKtyu8T8iI/AAAAAAAAAtI/ZZ7tV_paCtA/s400/CIMG0061.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373548392512483874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ones that Nana and Papa really want to see&lt;br /&gt;l&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SpKtzd7VMHI/AAAAAAAAAtQ/ZT0v1eZbyo8/s1600-h/CIMG0064.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SpKtzd7VMHI/AAAAAAAAAtQ/ZT0v1eZbyo8/s400/CIMG0064.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373548405124837490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next generation of the Moore Family&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SpKtz4UtheI/AAAAAAAAAtY/Wbz9L2eSi8c/s1600-h/CIMG0067.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SpKtz4UtheI/AAAAAAAAAtY/Wbz9L2eSi8c/s400/CIMG0067.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373548412210611682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The only picture that I have of the bride and groom as I forgot my camera when we went to the temple.  Bo gave Steve a pair of hand cuffs which he quite expertly attached to the newly weds much to their shock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SpKrD5S305I/AAAAAAAAAso/L8PZ2foQw0s/s1600-h/CIMG0083.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SpKrD5S305I/AAAAAAAAAso/L8PZ2foQw0s/s400/CIMG0083.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5373545388814357394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was fun to spend time with family, but a lot of driving.  We spent 29 hours in the van over 3 days.  Good thing that you are worth it Garett!  We love you and congratulations!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&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/6514522334328681200-1996935880843204593?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/1996935880843204593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=1996935880843204593' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/1996935880843204593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/1996935880843204593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2009/08/garetts-married.html' title='Garett&apos;s married!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SpKrFCL4mwI/AAAAAAAAAs4/WxF5Dy_UHH0/s72-c/CIMG0070.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-7017888383609367655</id><published>2009-08-17T10:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-17T10:21:07.256-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Vacation time!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;We just got back from a week at Powell.  This lady is tired.  We had good food, good times and lots of water.  The kids discovered sleeping in hammocks.  Jaxon woke me up the last night when he fell out of his hammock and then Sidnee kept me awake because she kept moving around.  I read a book and a half.  Now it is time to get back to reality.  The kids cliff jumped, rappelled, road the knee board, jumped off the house boat, went down the water slide, road the wave runner, the Ion, the girls tried the wake board and skinny dipping.  We figured out how to keep wet hair from going crazy and did a lot of fishing.  It was a very busy but relaxing week.  I actually got to hit some golf balls and hit one pretty far.  Steve and I chased a school of fingerlings into a corner where they swam past us.  That was a very strange feeling having hundreds of fish swim by my legs.  I still feel like I am sitting on a boat that is rocking back and forth.  Now I need a vacation from my kids.  Anyone want to take them for me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Steve jumping off a cliff that the older 3 kids did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SomOsLCSsvI/AAAAAAAAAsg/airsO-Sx5UI/s1600-h/Steve+jumping+4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SomOsLCSsvI/AAAAAAAAAsg/airsO-Sx5UI/s400/Steve+jumping+4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370980920143819506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Raven finishing a 360 on the kneeboard.  Had no clue she was even going to try it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SomOrv16n0I/AAAAAAAAAsY/4kYDJJ-9JOY/s1600-h/Raven+360+3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SomOrv16n0I/AAAAAAAAAsY/4kYDJJ-9JOY/s400/Raven+360+3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370980912844152642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sidnee on the knee board.  Doesn't she look like she is having a bundle of fun?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SomOrGoMn2I/AAAAAAAAAsQ/BV-qlcFntvo/s1600-h/Sidnee+kb+4.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SomOrGoMn2I/AAAAAAAAAsQ/BV-qlcFntvo/s400/Sidnee+kb+4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370980901780758370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mason getting ready to start out on the knee board.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SomOqXj-9hI/AAAAAAAAAsI/38pCCu57sEM/s1600-h/Mason+kneeboarding.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SomOqXj-9hI/AAAAAAAAAsI/38pCCu57sEM/s400/Mason+kneeboarding.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370980889146619410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jaxon is not strong enough to be towed by himself so Steve got to go with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SomOpydJbVI/AAAAAAAAAsA/-TyP0yrK_K8/s1600-h/Jaxon+%26+Dad+kb2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SomOpydJbVI/AAAAAAAAAsA/-TyP0yrK_K8/s400/Jaxon+%26+Dad+kb2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5370980879185833298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The funniest thing about the whole trip was when we were emptying the toilets at the poopdock, a couple from our ward was on a house boat next to us doing the same thing.  It was kind of wierd.  Of all the places to see someone from home!&lt;br /&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/6514522334328681200-7017888383609367655?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/7017888383609367655/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=7017888383609367655' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/7017888383609367655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/7017888383609367655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2009/08/vacation-time.html' title='Vacation time!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SomOsLCSsvI/AAAAAAAAAsg/airsO-Sx5UI/s72-c/Steve+jumping+4.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-8860543454251028418</id><published>2009-07-30T15:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-30T15:28:07.944-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer Time</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;We recently discovered a lake close by with some friends.  The kids have so much fun and I don't have to deal with fighting or tattling plus I get to swim so it is a win win situation.  We have gone 5 times in the last 2 weeks.  It is a great motivator for getting things done at home.  We took Steve on Monday and he enjoyed himself too.  The sandy beach is great for kids afraid of the water and the docks are great for the kids that love to jump off, plus they don't have to be the little ones for a while.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SnIcStQLiVI/AAAAAAAAAro/Wfm5e9BNCVA/s1600-h/Picture+005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364381213862365522" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SnIcStQLiVI/AAAAAAAAAro/Wfm5e9BNCVA/s400/Picture+005.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;The boys on a mission.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SnIcSBL_AgI/AAAAAAAAArg/5i7yjB8mvWg/s1600-h/Picture+006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364381202033607170" border="0" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SnIcSBL_AgI/AAAAAAAAArg/5i7yjB8mvWg/s400/Picture+006.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;What are they up too?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SnIcR0bWwSI/AAAAAAAAArY/QOvhtefItX8/s1600-h/Picture+008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364381198608417058" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SnIcR0bWwSI/AAAAAAAAArY/QOvhtefItX8/s400/Picture+008.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;It isn't so easy trying to make a river.  Good lesson on water absorption!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SnIcRZIVtkI/AAAAAAAAArQ/da3fUwTtk3A/s1600-h/Raven.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364381191280899650" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SnIcRZIVtkI/AAAAAAAAArQ/da3fUwTtk3A/s400/Raven.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;The girls playing off one of the docks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SnIcQ5FCOLI/AAAAAAAAArI/V9ztzF4a9oM/s1600-h/Sidnee.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364381182677104818" border="0" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SnIcQ5FCOLI/AAAAAAAAArI/V9ztzF4a9oM/s400/Sidnee.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;More fun on the playground that is about 10 yards from the water.  The poles are made of metal that doesn't get hot.  It is really cool.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6514522334328681200-8860543454251028418?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/8860543454251028418/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=8860543454251028418' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/8860543454251028418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/8860543454251028418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2009/07/summer-time.html' title='Summer Time'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SnIcStQLiVI/AAAAAAAAAro/Wfm5e9BNCVA/s72-c/Picture+005.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-7970687147250508752</id><published>2009-07-26T12:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-26T12:51:44.046-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm a bad parent!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SmyzdhxXblI/AAAAAAAAArA/JIbWYvANaAw/s1600-h/Picture+096.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SmyzdhxXblI/AAAAAAAAArA/JIbWYvANaAw/s400/Picture+096.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5362858576154422866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Jaxon woke up this morning saying that his tummy hurt.  Steve and I both thought that it was a ploy to get out of going to primary.  He was just told yesterday that if he cried in Primary he would be grounded.  About 20 minutes after telling us that his tummy hurt, we were all snuggling in my bed, Jaxon got up walked to the door and puked.  Of course, it was all over my bras, his hand and the floor.  I quickly grabbed him, put him in front of the toilet and started to clean up.  At least I could flush the toilet to get rid of the rest of his mess.  He announced he was done and that he felt good.  A few minutes later he told Steve that his mouth tasted "yucky".  Steve gave him some water to rinse out the taste and he has been fine since.  He is running a low fever but acts fine.  We decided that the next time his tummy hurts that we will tell him that it is Saturday to see if he is faking.  Nothing like feeling like a bad parent because you didn't believe your child when they told you the truth!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6514522334328681200-7970687147250508752?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/7970687147250508752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=7970687147250508752' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/7970687147250508752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/7970687147250508752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2009/07/im-bad-parent.html' title='I&apos;m a bad parent!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SmyzdhxXblI/AAAAAAAAArA/JIbWYvANaAw/s72-c/Picture+096.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-3684371828389197297</id><published>2009-06-18T17:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-18T17:52:42.097-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sidnee's big adventure</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Sidnee has been having a mysterious illness.  The symptoms were sore throat, swollen tonsils, fever, aching body and fatigue which of course means a big case of irritability!  After being tested for mono, strep and various other things, the doctors couldn't figure out what was wrong with her.  It was a vicious cycle of symptoms, then antibiotics, then she would be fine for a week after finishing the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;meds&lt;/span&gt;.  Then we would start all over again.  The last time it happened she even complained of canker sores.  After 2 doctors saying that it was just a virus and then five rounds of antibiotics, our doctor sent us to a specialist.  She took one look at Sidnee and scheduled her for surgery.  She said that it was a virus that can only be gotten rid of by removing the tonsils and that she has seen 100% success with her patients.  Today was the big day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SjraJwA6EFI/AAAAAAAAAoY/4GyITA75QRU/s1600-h/Before+surgery.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SjraJwA6EFI/AAAAAAAAAoY/4GyITA75QRU/s400/Before+surgery.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348827368498270290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sidnee waiting to be called back to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;pre&lt;/span&gt;-op while complaining that she was dying of starvation!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SjraJb4qPTI/AAAAAAAAAoQ/Z7c_H69B61c/s1600-h/Timeout.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SjraJb4qPTI/AAAAAAAAAoQ/Z7c_H69B61c/s400/Timeout.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348827363094969650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Daddy had to stick his nose in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;corner&lt;/span&gt; while Sidnee changed for surgery.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SjraJHje29I/AAAAAAAAAoI/PqoTAd30r5E/s1600-h/Picture+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SjraJHje29I/AAAAAAAAAoI/PqoTAd30r5E/s400/Picture+004.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348827357637434322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is her surgery outfit.  The surgical center gives these shirts to their adolescent patients.  It made Sidnee feel special.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SjraIknmheI/AAAAAAAAAoA/4EGE-rK30r0/s1600-h/Picture+006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SjraIknmheI/AAAAAAAAAoA/4EGE-rK30r0/s400/Picture+006.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348827348259472866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The anesthesiologist explaining to Sidnee what is going to happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SjraIfNI12I/AAAAAAAAAn4/3aRn8ru9S0E/s1600-h/Picture+007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SjraIfNI12I/AAAAAAAAAn4/3aRn8ru9S0E/s400/Picture+007.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348827346806298466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sidnee being wheeled into post-op.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SjrY8-B9o0I/AAAAAAAAAnw/teQ2TBPBjP4/s1600-h/Picture+008.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SjrY8-B9o0I/AAAAAAAAAnw/teQ2TBPBjP4/s400/Picture+008.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348826049410868034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Steve is telling her to lay down.  She kept trying to sit up and take out her i.v.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SjrY8hLgpGI/AAAAAAAAAno/Q_w45pspsvU/s1600-h/Picture+009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SjrY8hLgpGI/AAAAAAAAAno/Q_w45pspsvU/s400/Picture+009.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348826041666282594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She kept dozing in and out for about 20 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SjrY71faaKI/AAAAAAAAAnY/5iBC22DKODs/s1600-h/Picture+010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SjrY71faaKI/AAAAAAAAAnY/5iBC22DKODs/s400/Picture+010.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348826029938600098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Sidnee was excited about doing two things, the ride in the wheel chair was one of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SjrY8KRXIpI/AAAAAAAAAng/GGLWfI-HFj0/s1600-h/Picture+012.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SjrY8KRXIpI/AAAAAAAAAng/GGLWfI-HFj0/s400/Picture+012.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348826035516809874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The culprit in hand!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SjrY7rtaR3I/AAAAAAAAAnQ/IJr79rR9NA8/s1600-h/Picture+018.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SjrY7rtaR3I/AAAAAAAAAnQ/IJr79rR9NA8/s400/Picture+018.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5348826027312957298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seeing these puppies was the other thing that Sidnee requested of the doctor.  These are her tonsils and are about the size of chicken hearts.   The only complication that Sidnee encountered was that she threw up twice after surgery so they had to keep her a little bit longer.  What should have been a 3 hour venture ended up being a 5 1/2 hour one.  Now she has 5 people to wait on her as she is supposed to stay in bed for at least 5 days and no real activity for 2 weeks.  If you want to come see her and make her feel better, bring her some pudding or jello, but nothing red or acidic please.  I hope that this solves the problem and that she won't miss 23 days of school next year because she feels sick.&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/6514522334328681200-3684371828389197297?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/3684371828389197297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=3684371828389197297' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/3684371828389197297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/3684371828389197297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2009/06/sidnees-big-adventure.html' title='Sidnee&apos;s big adventure'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SjraJwA6EFI/AAAAAAAAAoY/4GyITA75QRU/s72-c/Before+surgery.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-6254538882179296959</id><published>2009-06-16T05:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-16T05:59:21.798-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Get Away!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I was privileged to be able to get away with some friends this weekend.  We had planned it for awhile and have been so excited to go.   I made crepes for breakfast our first morning and jokingly told the rest of them that they could serve me breakfast in bed the next morning.  This is what I got for being mouthy and sleeping in (which by the way I rarely ever do!)  The little gold thing on the plate is a mini peanut butter cup.  It was actually really funny and cute.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SjeSXvNd9iI/AAAAAAAAAmg/X_57S30iQFo/s1600-h/Picture+002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SjeSXvNd9iI/AAAAAAAAAmg/X_57S30iQFo/s400/Picture+002.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347904019033355810" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Our second day there we went to Zion National Park.  We got poured on before we ever entered the park, but it was a short lived rain and actually very refreshing.  We had to ride the bus into the park because the parking lot was full.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SjeSX5Vj2tI/AAAAAAAAAmo/s7k65DrnrJ8/s1600-h/Picture+003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SjeSX5Vj2tI/AAAAAAAAAmo/s7k65DrnrJ8/s400/Picture+003.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347904021751651026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Park was gorgeous after the rain.  I love being in the mountains and the natural beauty.  It always seems to revitalize my soul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SjeSYWpjNBI/AAAAAAAAAmw/Ek3VEqaXGpI/s1600-h/Picture+024.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SjeSYWpjNBI/AAAAAAAAAmw/Ek3VEqaXGpI/s400/Picture+024.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347904029620122642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;We ate at Iggy's for dinner before going to Tuacahn for a show.  We all ended up splitting sandwiches which happened to give all of us nasty gas, but the rest of that story won't be posted on here.  The waitress was great.  She split the sandwiches, split the bill correctly and took our picture.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SjeSYmTrUpI/AAAAAAAAAm4/HpMGc5ueBQg/s1600-h/Picture+026.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SjeSYmTrUpI/AAAAAAAAAm4/HpMGc5ueBQg/s400/Picture+026.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347904033823347346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The show we saw was Footloose.  It was really good.  I had forgotten how much I enjoy the theater.  At intermission they had a bull ride machine set up and Kim was persuaded to ride it.  Of course we were chanting her name and then the lady in front of us turned around and joined in our chanting.  It was pretty funny. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SjeSZM7uUeI/AAAAAAAAAnA/z06hX4oyofM/s1600-h/Picture+027.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SjeSZM7uUeI/AAAAAAAAAnA/z06hX4oyofM/s400/Picture+027.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5347904044191863266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;It was a fantastic weekend with great friends, lots of laughs, tons of fun, some stinkiness and wonderful memories.  It was nice to not be mom or wife for a few days.  My favorite thing though was that my kids and husband didn't call me every five minutes asking what I was doing or when was I coming home.  I really appreciated that.  I can hardly wait for the next trip because it was definitely a good thing to get back in touch with my inner teenager and leave the cranky lady at home.  Thanks ladies for a great time!&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/6514522334328681200-6254538882179296959?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/6254538882179296959/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=6254538882179296959' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/6254538882179296959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/6254538882179296959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2009/06/get-away.html' title='Get Away!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SjeSXvNd9iI/AAAAAAAAAmg/X_57S30iQFo/s72-c/Picture+002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-4359331645822768497</id><published>2009-05-13T09:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T09:24:49.931-07:00</updated><title type='text'>OOOOuuuch!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;After being badgered by my friends for the last couple of months to go to bootcamp with them, I finally had nothing going on and could actually go.  Of course I was also motivated by the snugness of my clothes, but we won't talk about that!  You have to understand that working out has never been my thing.  I love to play sports and go running or biking on my cruiser with my kids, but I have always detested working out or lifting weights.  It is probably because I feel out of my element and think that I look retarded trying to do something that I don't know how to do.  After being assured that I wouldn't be the only one that looked like a dork, I decided that I would give it a try.  It actually wasn't too bad.&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SgrwyiexriI/AAAAAAAAAmY/QtG0C_8bV4g/s1600-h/working+out.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335341459613789730" style="WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SgrwyiexriI/AAAAAAAAAmY/QtG0C_8bV4g/s400/working+out.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;After the warm up, my legs were shaking so bad and it seemed like they had turned to jell-o.  I was relieved that I didn't have to be on my feet for most of the remainder of the workout.  However, there was a thing that we did at the end for warm down that had my legs shaking because they were so week.  I was a little sore when things were over, but not too bad.  Yesterday I was pretty sore, but could pretty much get around, with the exception of going up and down stairs.  Today is a totally different story.  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SgrwytpIASI/AAAAAAAAAmQ/g7F-FOTYCVs/s1600-h/old+lady.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335341462609985826" style="WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SgrwytpIASI/AAAAAAAAAmQ/g7F-FOTYCVs/s400/old+lady.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;This would be an fairly accurate portrayal of how I feel now.  Every step is a labor.  I can't tell you how many times I have almost fallen because my leg gives out.  It makes me cry to walk down stairs.  I know, I am getting old.  Go ahead, just say it, I am pathetic.  I have to keep moving once I start because it hurts worse if I sit for awhile and then start moving again.  Remind me again why people work out!&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/6514522334328681200-4359331645822768497?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/4359331645822768497/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=4359331645822768497' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/4359331645822768497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/4359331645822768497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2009/05/oooouuuch.html' title='OOOOuuuch!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SgrwyiexriI/AAAAAAAAAmY/QtG0C_8bV4g/s72-c/working+out.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-4758643791619792999</id><published>2009-05-03T18:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T18:58:39.842-07:00</updated><title type='text'>SCORE!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;We went to the Walmart opening in Saratoga Springs because we heard that there was going to be a bunch of free stuff.  We got a cup of chocolate milk, the boys made a lego thing and got to keep the legos, we got free Owlz tickets and the kids got their faces painted.  The boys all knew that they wanted spider man so here they are modeling it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/Sf5KrGIDgnI/AAAAAAAAAmI/ls1jCDKet2M/s1600-h/walmart+spiderman.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/Sf5KrGIDgnI/AAAAAAAAAmI/ls1jCDKet2M/s400/walmart+spiderman.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331781113092473458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The girls of course were girls and wanted the pretty flowers and butterfly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/Sf5KrE55WoI/AAAAAAAAAmA/hLhiBJ7kTwM/s1600-h/Walmart+flowers.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/Sf5KrE55WoI/AAAAAAAAAmA/hLhiBJ7kTwM/s400/Walmart+flowers.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331781112764652162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pretty good job, especially for free.  The kids took great care of their faces and what a fun activity for free.  Sidnee figured out how to make her flower bloom.  If she scowled it looked like a rose bud and then she would smile and it would bloom.&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/6514522334328681200-4758643791619792999?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/4758643791619792999/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=4758643791619792999' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/4758643791619792999'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/4758643791619792999'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2009/05/score.html' title='SCORE!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/Sf5KrGIDgnI/AAAAAAAAAmI/ls1jCDKet2M/s72-c/walmart+spiderman.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-8122102242639480578</id><published>2009-05-01T12:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-01T12:29:39.766-07:00</updated><title type='text'>EEEWWWWW!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SftM90CyglI/AAAAAAAAAl4/NUBtHHJZF7E/s1600-h/grubs.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SftM90CyglI/AAAAAAAAAl4/NUBtHHJZF7E/s400/grubs.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5330939208749187666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kids and I went out to the garden the other day to pull the weeds and get ready to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;rototill&lt;/span&gt; it.  As we were pulling weeds we found some bonuses in the roots.  Anyone need something for dinner?  I could save a few for you.   They are supposedly very high in protein!  Now I get to take care of these little critters so that the skunks, moles and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;raccoons&lt;/span&gt; stay away.  Can you say GROSS?&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/6514522334328681200-8122102242639480578?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/8122102242639480578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=8122102242639480578' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/8122102242639480578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/8122102242639480578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2009/05/eeewwwww.html' title='EEEWWWWW!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SftM90CyglI/AAAAAAAAAl4/NUBtHHJZF7E/s72-c/grubs.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-2909404970211332786</id><published>2009-04-08T17:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-08T17:40:39.155-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Waiting for Spring!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;It seems like winter has been dragging it's feet on leaving this valley that I live in. I have been so anxious and now that we have had a few days of spring, I am not so anxious anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/Sd1DiI6wPfI/AAAAAAAAAlw/EVNwu8oMZ6Y/s1600-h/Tulip.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 134px; height: 136px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/Sd1DiI6wPfI/AAAAAAAAAlw/EVNwu8oMZ6Y/s400/Tulip.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322484588410322418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My allergies have flared and I now remember what sinus headaches feel like. Not fun. I wish that the kenelog shot for allergies lasted longer than 3 months. If they did, I would go get one tomorrow. My problem is that my allergies are the worst between June and September. Yet here we are in the beginning of April. I get to wait 2 months before I can go get a shot! Anyone know any good home remedies? My nose is raw after only 12 hours of wiping!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/Sd1Dh5DACcI/AAAAAAAAAlo/QJko8MeXq6o/s1600-h/stuffy+nose.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/Sd1Dh5DACcI/AAAAAAAAAlo/QJko8MeXq6o/s400/stuffy+nose.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5322484584149944770" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I am anxiously awaiting any and all home remedies that could alleviate this problem for 2 months!&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/6514522334328681200-2909404970211332786?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/2909404970211332786/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=2909404970211332786' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/2909404970211332786'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/2909404970211332786'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2009/04/waiting-for-spring.html' title='Waiting for Spring!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/Sd1DiI6wPfI/AAAAAAAAAlw/EVNwu8oMZ6Y/s72-c/Tulip.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-4125820829120392272</id><published>2009-03-22T20:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-03-22T21:05:50.433-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Team mates, friends, sisters!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;On hearing that my ward may no longer have a sports program after we are done with basketball, I decided that rather than throwing a fit I would do something constructive for myself and share what I have learned about the women that I have come to know over the past year since we were made a ward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SccCioMU_II/AAAAAAAAAlQ/wjzsKYxFA6Y/s1600-h/bball+pic.aspx"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SccCioMU_II/AAAAAAAAAlQ/wjzsKYxFA6Y/s400/bball+pic.aspx" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5316220679062092930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even though this picture does not do these beautiful women justice, I wanted to share to share my feelings about these wonderful ladies.  I consider them not only my team mates, but my friends and sisters as well. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dani Cousin: She has a wonderful laugh and has a great ability to see the positive in anyone.  She is always building you up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Melissa Hoffman: Always striving to be her best no matter how tired she is.  She never gives less than 110%.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sarah Cooper:  Wonderful cook, shares my passion for cooking, will do whatever it takes to get the job done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kim &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Laursen&lt;/span&gt;: Always positive with a capital P.  Never quits trying her best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jamie &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Hokanson&lt;/span&gt;: Doesn't let life get her down.  Stands up for herself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jaclyn &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Wiest&lt;/span&gt;:  Loves life, the gospel and has a passion for literature.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tami Hansen:  A peacemaker.  Looks for the silver lining in things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jen Bay: Passionate about all that she does.  Doesn't shrink from opposition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nikki Kelley:  World class teacher.  Never makes you feel stupid when she teaches you something new.  Very compassionate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Amy Pratt: (not pictured)  Builder of people, always cheers for everyone, even if they are on the other team.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;JoAnne&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;McArthur&lt;/span&gt;: (not pictured) Great ability to do the right thing,  doesn't yield to peer pressure, can always make me laugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Abby &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Isaacson&lt;/span&gt;: (not pictured) &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;indomitable&lt;/span&gt; spirit, concerned about those around her, awesome cake decorator!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is so much more that I could say about each of these wonderful women, but it would never sufficiently express what they have come to mean to me.  It never fails that when I am having a bad day at least 2 or 3 of them call me, or drop by with out me even asking for help.  I look forward to the time that I can spend with them as they always lighten my load in one way or another.  They inspire me to be a better person, mother and wife.  They truly are amazing women and I feel so grateful to have been able to cross paths with each of them.  I want them to know that no matter how this whole thing with the sports teams pans out, they will always be more than my team mates.  I feel honored to call them friends and sisters!&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/6514522334328681200-4125820829120392272?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/4125820829120392272/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=4125820829120392272' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/4125820829120392272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/4125820829120392272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2009/03/team-mates-friends-sisters.html' title='Team mates, friends, sisters!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SccCioMU_II/AAAAAAAAAlQ/wjzsKYxFA6Y/s72-c/bball+pic.aspx' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-1590194963619650788</id><published>2009-02-28T09:40:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-28T09:40:33.898-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Surprise doesn't say enough!</title><content type='html'>Yesterday as a family we deep cleaned our entire house because we were going to have a date night with our friends and play games at our house.  When we finished at 3 with the cleaning we hurried off to do some errands in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Orem&lt;/span&gt;.  We were about 15 minutes from home when my friend Tami Hansen called me and asked if we would stop by her house before we went home because our daughters had an altercation and we needed to talk it out.  She knew that we were in a hurry to get home so I figured that it must have been serious and we needed to go help the girls work things out.  I had so many things run through my mind as to what the girls possibly had fought about.  I knew that Raven's day had started off bad and she has been having problems with a girl at school, so I was thinking that it might have something to do with that or just be hormones for two preteen girls.  I walked up to the door while Steve got the boys out of the car.  The door opened with a bunch of red clothed people yelling surprise.  I was indeed surprised.   I had no clue whatsoever that there was a party waiting for me.  Steve with the help of my friends had arranged a surprise birthday party for me.  He had teased a while back about having a funeral for me when I turned 40.  Being the smart mouth that I am, I told him that I wanted a red party.  I wanted red food, red drinks, red decorations and I even wanted my friends to wear red.  The closer that my birthday got, the more sure I was that it wasn't going to happen.  Steve asked me just last week what I wanted to do to celebrate.  I told him that I wanted a party like I had already told him and that he could talk to my friends about it.  I really thought that he was going to do nothing and I was going to put him in the dog house.  After all I was only going to turn 40 once.   The party was even better than I had imagined.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SalR6-siWtI/AAAAAAAAAkQ/FVB2gllPuKs/s1600-h/Picture+078.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SalR6-siWtI/AAAAAAAAAkQ/FVB2gllPuKs/s400/Picture+078.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307863709536901842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;These 2 lovely young ladies that I thought had been in a huge fight made the poster below.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SalR5l8750I/AAAAAAAAAjw/f8FpjWK0Cg4/s1600-h/Picture+095.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SalR5l8750I/AAAAAAAAAjw/f8FpjWK0Cg4/s400/Picture+095.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307863685714929474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;This poster made by Raven and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Mikah&lt;/span&gt; was by the front door when I walked in.  Steve said that it was my funeral poster.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SalR61VFCdI/AAAAAAAAAkI/H-2b0IOycR8/s1600-h/Picture+087.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SalR61VFCdI/AAAAAAAAAkI/H-2b0IOycR8/s400/Picture+087.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307863707022592466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lovely red decorations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SalR6YYiA6I/AAAAAAAAAkA/8EbGucB1dX0/s1600-h/Picture+073.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SalR6YYiA6I/AAAAAAAAAkA/8EbGucB1dX0/s400/Picture+073.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307863699252446114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;More red decorations and friends dressed in red.  Gotta love it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SalR6FgcbLI/AAAAAAAAAj4/QmXteT6uZ8A/s1600-h/Picture+094.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SalR6FgcbLI/AAAAAAAAAj4/QmXteT6uZ8A/s400/Picture+094.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307863694185360562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Notice that they took sympathy on me by only putting on one big candle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/Sal2HGo4WPI/AAAAAAAAAkY/A-tel5wjW-M/s1600-h/Picture+096.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/Sal2HGo4WPI/AAAAAAAAAkY/A-tel5wjW-M/s400/Picture+096.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5307903500246079730" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;The lovely candle that was on my birthday cake.  I had a lot of fun, felt very loved and couldn't have been more surprised!  Thanks to everyone for helping and coming.  Thanks to all those who have extended birthday wishes.  It has been great, but don't forget I really don't turn 40 until Tuesday!&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/6514522334328681200-1590194963619650788?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/1590194963619650788/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=1590194963619650788' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/1590194963619650788'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/1590194963619650788'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2009/02/surprise-doesnt-say-enough.html' title='Surprise doesn&apos;t say enough!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SalR6-siWtI/AAAAAAAAAkQ/FVB2gllPuKs/s72-c/Picture+078.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-7740379373495278347</id><published>2009-02-11T07:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-11T07:43:35.462-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Our van has.....</title><content type='html'>Our van that we have driven for 4 years decided to commit suicide on Sunday.  Without any warning it decided to bleed out spontaneously through the transmission.  In an effort to keep us from resurrecting it, the van managed to place the leak in a position that would require much work and money to fix.  Our friend took a look at it and declared it dead.  It has 208K miles on it and has served us well, but with having to replace the transmission, the radiator and the rear suspension to make it live for maybe just one more year we have decided that would be about 3 to 4 thousand dollars that would be better spent on a newer vehicle.  It is an inconvenient time for us and sad to say good bye to the Grape Ape, but now we get to find something newer with less miles.  We are just keeping our fingers crossed and knees bent that we get a good tax refund so that we can pay cash for it.  I really don't want to have to take out a loan in today's economy.  So wish us happy hunting and if you know of any really good deals, then let us know.  I keep telling Steve that what I really want is a.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SZLxQfi6LxI/AAAAAAAAAjg/lvCjZkS1I5g/s1600-h/silverado.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 275px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SZLxQfi6LxI/AAAAAAAAAjg/lvCjZkS1I5g/s400/silverado.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5301564977016614674" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;After all, it would make a great 4oth birthday present, don't you think?&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/6514522334328681200-7740379373495278347?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/7740379373495278347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=7740379373495278347' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/7740379373495278347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/7740379373495278347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2009/02/our-van-has.html' title='Our van has.....'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SZLxQfi6LxI/AAAAAAAAAjg/lvCjZkS1I5g/s72-c/silverado.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-7816379553148254252</id><published>2009-01-27T05:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T05:35:25.452-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Reclaiming sanity!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SX8GJBW47SI/AAAAAAAAAjY/1kgKrIhGR9c/s1600-h/crazy+lady.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 130px; height: 130px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SX8GJBW47SI/AAAAAAAAAjY/1kgKrIhGR9c/s400/crazy+lady.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295958438864022818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;This picture is titled "Crazy Lady".  That is definitely how I have been feeling lately.  You can see all the things going on in her hair.  My schedule has been so hectic that my kids are telling me that they never see me.  They are probably right when you take into consideration the things on my list.  Let me give you a view of what this week has in store.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Monday&lt;/span&gt; - run kids to school, email coaches and parents about basketball tournament this next Saturday, email players parents to remind them of the schedule, pick Mason up from school, grocery shopping (had the luxury of leaving the boys at home since Steve was there sick), put groceries away, pick kids up from school, basketball practice ( I cancelled it because the players have 2 games and a tournament this week), more grocery shopping to finish the list with the girls whining the whole time that I wasn't letting them get anything, put the groceries away, let the kids open a box of cereal for dinner because I am too tired to make it, re-attach the wires to the light in the girls' bedroom so that they can see, fold a load of laundry, loudly beckon my children to put it away, fold another load, watch 24 while doing the laundry, get kids ready for bed, chase the kids to my room for prayers, then chase them to bed, go to their rooms twice to threaten them for being loud and not sleeping, send sick Steve to the boys room 2 more times, finally let &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Jaxon&lt;/span&gt; come "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;nuggle&lt;/span&gt;" me where he jumps around then decides it is Steve that he likes, finally send &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Jaxon&lt;/span&gt; to his own bed at 10:20&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;ish&lt;/span&gt; so that I can relax and drift off to sleep.  Are you tired yet?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Tuesday&lt;/span&gt; - Take kids to school, go fold more laundry (maybe I can finish watching "Fiddler on the Roof"), pick up Mason, try to find more help for the tournament on Saturday, check &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;facebook&lt;/span&gt; of course, make a Costco run, pick up the kids from school, feed the kids and take them to karate, ref a basketball game, coach a basketball game, make dinner (maybe I will put something in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;crockpot&lt;/span&gt; in the morning), help kids with homework, send kids to bed, fold another load of laundry, somewhere in there I have to go order trophies for the tournament.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Wednesday&lt;/span&gt; - same as Monday, just replace grocery shopping with hosting a potluck lunch with friends and add vacuuming and mopping.   Hopefully I can make it to my own basketball practice at 9 pm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Thursday&lt;/span&gt; - exactly like Tuesday except the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;costco&lt;/span&gt; run.  Add finalizing tournament details and my own basketball game at 8 pm after picking up girls from karate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Friday&lt;/span&gt; - bulldoze the kids rooms after school.  It is early out day for them so they are my slaves for 3 hours.  make dinner, attend the Elders quorum party after dropping Raven off to babysit, come home put the kids to bed, try to sleep while I think of all the things that need to be done at the tournament the next day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Saturday&lt;/span&gt; - set up for the tournament, host the tournament, probably ref a couple of games myself, clean up, then go home and crash.  Gotta rest so that I can do it all again next week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyone tired yet?  Don't forget to add, ward calling and stake calling to that, plus helping kids with homework, reffing the little battles that go on every day and all the other mom stuff that has to be done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I am sorry if I haven't been answering my phone or emails, life is just a little crazy and I have not had time to breath.  Thank heavens that I will be done with coaching the beginning of March  just in time to catch my breath and help with the musical that Raven is in.  I haven't subbed at the school because it takes time from everything else and I haven't been as social as normal.  It is a good thing that my kids can do dishes and help wash the laundry.  They think that I am not fun anymore so I told the school that I will be the Athletic Director or the basketball coach next year, but not both.  I didn't want to coach this year, but the coach backed out 2 days before tryouts and I couldn't find anyone to do it.  I didn't think that it was fair to the girls to not have a team so I stepped up.  I am still trying to find someone to take over, any takers?  So now that I am exhausted just thinking about my week, I better get going because the kids have got to go to school.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6514522334328681200-7816379553148254252?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/7816379553148254252/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=7816379553148254252' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/7816379553148254252'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/7816379553148254252'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2009/01/reclaiming-sanity.html' title='Reclaiming sanity!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SX8GJBW47SI/AAAAAAAAAjY/1kgKrIhGR9c/s72-c/crazy+lady.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-7696098048783534410</id><published>2009-01-21T10:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-21T11:08:05.664-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Fresh from Heaven!</title><content type='html'>Yesterday morning I had the privilege of seeing my nephew be born via c-section.  It wasn't as gruesome as I thought it would be.  It was actually a very peaceful, almost spiritual experience seeing that little boy enter the world.  I got to hold him about an hour later and I still love that fresh from heaven smell that all new babies have.  This is the first time that I have been at the birth of a baby that wasn't my own baby.  It gives me a whole new respect for motherhood seeing it from the outside looking in.  It also makes me grateful for all of the women and men who help Steve and I with our brood in so many different ways.  I think that President Bush did a good thing when he made this past Sunday "Sanctity of Human Life Day" (&lt;a href="http://www.lifesitenews.com/ldn/2009/jan/09011601.html"&gt;www.lifesitenews.com/ldn/2009/jan/09011601.html&lt;/a&gt;).  I think every day should be that way and I think most people would agree if they could witness what I was able to yesterday.  I would post a picture of the cute little man, but I will leave that for his parents.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6514522334328681200-7696098048783534410?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/7696098048783534410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=7696098048783534410' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/7696098048783534410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/7696098048783534410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2009/01/fresh-from-heaven.html' title='Fresh from Heaven!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16319333985251780473</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='25' height='32' src='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_RgwU2JhwWRE/SK322XRhbSI/AAAAAAAAAAM/wkHdX2jEHoo/S220/DeLana+school+photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-5271071141251947573</id><published>2009-01-13T09:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-27T04:50:35.823-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Discoveries</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;In our quest to eat better, we have had some successes and failures.  I keep reminding myself that this is a work in progress and that my family will have to be kept in the dark sometimes as to exactly what they are eating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SWzUxCVXNjI/AAAAAAAAAjE/U6NbQaFPPLo/s1600-h/tofu.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 307px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SWzUxCVXNjI/AAAAAAAAAjE/U6NbQaFPPLo/s400/tofu.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290837601158641202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tofu was not a success.  Steve wouldn't even try it because he knew it was tofu.  Mason ate it but didn't like the texture.  I didn't care for the texture myself.  The girls were sick and didn't try it.  I will try tofu again, but this time I won't tell anyone what it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SWzUw8WyTkI/AAAAAAAAAi8/PxFFG01G0ok/s1600-h/yogurt.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SWzUw8WyTkI/AAAAAAAAAi8/PxFFG01G0ok/s400/yogurt.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290837599553998402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yogurt with granola and berries has been a huge hit with all of us.  We have even used ground turkey in some of our meals without people saying "GROSS".  We are continuing our quest so if anyone has a recipe that they want to pass on, I will gladly take it.&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/6514522334328681200-5271071141251947573?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/5271071141251947573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=5271071141251947573' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/5271071141251947573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/5271071141251947573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2009/01/discoveries.html' title='Discoveries'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SWzUxCVXNjI/AAAAAAAAAjE/U6NbQaFPPLo/s72-c/tofu.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-1726267081399461528</id><published>2009-01-01T16:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-01T17:04:07.347-08:00</updated><title type='text'>2008 in retrospect!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SV1nqV2q1HI/AAAAAAAAAi0/t0rHRsUTibk/s1600-h/DeLana+school+photo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 315px; height: 400px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SV1nqV2q1HI/AAAAAAAAAi0/t0rHRsUTibk/s400/DeLana+school+photo.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5286495514721440882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I read another blog that made me want to put down some of my memories from 2008.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I did so much that it is hard to answer some of these questions, but this is a good place to start.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  What did you do in 2008 that you'd never done before?  Watched my first live skeleton race (what a rush) and made my first trip to Houston, TX&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.  Did you keep your New Year's resolution and will you make more next year?  I do goals and a finished a couple of them and came close on a couple of others.  Yes, I have already put them on paper and started.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  Did anyone close to you give birth? Some of my cousins.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.  What would you like to have in 2009 that you lacked in 2008?  That is a hard one, not! A more clean house!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. What dates from 2008 will remain etched upon your memory and why? my families birthdays, Nov. 4 (election) and the death of President Gordon B. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Hinckley&lt;/span&gt; (I will miss his forthrightness and humor).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.  What was your biggest achievement of the year?  taking my kids to my family reunion by myself and finishing the raft trip with as many as I started with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.  What was the best thing you bought? Guitar Hero!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.  Where did most of your money go?  My mortgage and then to food and bills&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9.  What song will always remind you of 2008? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Chiquitita&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10.  Compared to last year, are you happier or sadder?  HAPPIER&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11.  What do you wish you'd done more of?  study the scriptures, exercise, spend more time with my kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12.  What do you wish you'd done less of?  spending time &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;frivolously&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13.  Did you fall in love?  more like strengthened it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14.  What was your favorite TV program?  Bones or House&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15.  What was the best book you read?  non scriptural would be the "Peace Giver"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16.  What was your greatest musical discovery?  Taylor Swift.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17.  What did you want and did you get it?  1) don't think that I am allowed to share so , 2)To go to my family reunion and yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18.  What did you do on your birthday and how old are you? Went to the Cheesecake Factory and I turned 39.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19.  What was your favorite film of the year?  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Mamma&lt;/span&gt; Mia, then Twilight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20.  What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying? spending more time with my siblings and parents&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2008? very casual: dressy casual?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22.  What kept you sane? Am I sane?  that depends on the day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23.  What political issue stirred you the most? Proposition 8  and Abortion&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24.  Who did you miss?  Tami and Mom&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25. Who was the best new person you met? Kim &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Laursen&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26.  What question made you laugh the hardest?  "Do full moons really get women pregnant?" (guess you had to be there.  It kept me laughing for weeks!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;27.  Quote a song lyric that sums up your year: "So I wanna know, what's the name of the game?"&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really hope that 2009 is a great year for all with minimal regrets.  Remember to live each moment to the fullest!  Be in the moment not busy wishing for the next.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6514522334328681200-1726267081399461528?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/1726267081399461528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=1726267081399461528' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/1726267081399461528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/1726267081399461528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2009/01/2008-in-retrospect.html' title='2008 in retrospect!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SV1nqV2q1HI/AAAAAAAAAi0/t0rHRsUTibk/s72-c/DeLana+school+photo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-1968498981357667170</id><published>2008-12-29T14:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-29T15:03:15.526-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Holiday Eating Binges!</title><content type='html'>&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param&gt;I was sent the following you tube video in an email by one of my basketball players.  I have tried to make it show up as the video but can't figure out how to make it work.  If somebody can help me so that  you don't have to click the link, please let me know.  Anyway, watch it, it is pretty funny.  It was even funnier to me because Raven has walked around for 2 days whining about feeling sick because of all the crap that she has eaten over the holidays.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ygWO30gdpK4"&gt;/www.youtube.com/watch?v=ygWO30gdpK4&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6514522334328681200-1968498981357667170?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/1968498981357667170/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=1968498981357667170' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/1968498981357667170'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/1968498981357667170'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2008/12/holiday-eating-binges.html' title='Holiday Eating Binges!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-7517641799634587054</id><published>2008-12-28T10:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-28T10:44:35.830-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Is there really a Santa Claus?</title><content type='html'>Every year I get this question from my kids, especially my girls.  I always tell them that I believe in Santa Claus because he represents the Christmas spirit of giving and that he reminds me that I need to be more concerned about giving to others than what I get in return.  Of course they just want to know if he exists.  They have seen &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Santas&lt;/span&gt; at Christmas parties, but even &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Jaxon&lt;/span&gt; knows that they are not the real Santa.  We went to my In-Laws for Christmas eve dinner this year.  As the kids were all playing some of the adults caught this man in red coming to the front door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SVfEP3Tkp7I/AAAAAAAAAiE/58PjTi99u4E/s1600-h/Picture+044.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SVfEP3Tkp7I/AAAAAAAAAiE/58PjTi99u4E/s400/Picture+044.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284908464565692338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Jaxon&lt;/span&gt; could not stop talking when Santa came in to the house.  He was the first to sit on Santa's lap when the opportunity arose.  He told him that he had been really, really good and what he wanted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SVfEQZ8gTII/AAAAAAAAAiM/-kqehOlpB-w/s1600-h/Picture+056.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SVfEQZ8gTII/AAAAAAAAAiM/-kqehOlpB-w/s400/Picture+056.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284908473864178818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mason was just as excited as &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Jaxon&lt;/span&gt; although he was a little less talkative.  He had no doubt that there was a Santa either so it was very natural to sit on his lap and tell him what he wanted.   You can see that he is holding the bottom of Santa's beard!  So glad he did not pull on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SVfERNEGpAI/AAAAAAAAAiU/00j_128mhOM/s1600-h/Picture+059.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SVfERNEGpAI/AAAAAAAAAiU/00j_128mhOM/s400/Picture+059.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284908487586259970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sidnee was my doubter last year and so I expected more of it this year, but was not harassed by desires of proof.  She concluded that this was the real Santa when she was done.  She was acting shy because she thought he would tell that she had been mean to her sister earlier that day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SVfERFPwmKI/AAAAAAAAAic/KlDVZrCHVyE/s1600-h/Picture+061.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SVfERFPwmKI/AAAAAAAAAic/KlDVZrCHVyE/s400/Picture+061.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284908485487663266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought Raven might think that she was too big to sit on Santa's lap this year as she is quickly outgrowing a lot of childhood things (much to my dismay :(   ), but she climbed up when it was her turn and giggled the whole time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SVfERlBS5BI/AAAAAAAAAik/n46VXJPqtfk/s1600-h/Picture+067.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SVfERlBS5BI/AAAAAAAAAik/n46VXJPqtfk/s400/Picture+067.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284908494016930834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So to answer the question, yes Smith children, there is a Santa Claus!  He came to Grandma's house just to prove to you that he was real!&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/6514522334328681200-7517641799634587054?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/7517641799634587054/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=7517641799634587054' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/7517641799634587054'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/7517641799634587054'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2008/12/is-there-really-santa-claus.html' title='Is there really a Santa Claus?'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SVfEP3Tkp7I/AAAAAAAAAiE/58PjTi99u4E/s72-c/Picture+044.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-6730867755579352863</id><published>2008-11-28T17:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-29T07:49:25.766-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A season for giving thanks!</title><content type='html'>I really love this time of year.  I appreciate being able to take the time to think about the things that I am most grateful for.  There are definitely many things on my list which keeps growing as times become more uncertain.  I keep adding to this list as each day goes by.  I love what Henry B. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Eyring&lt;/span&gt; said about the more you look for the blessing in your life the more you realize that you have and that you should write them down so that you can be reminded of them when you are struggling to find them.  Anyway, now that I have talked in circles, I will share some of my blessing so that they are written down if I ever forget them and need to be reminded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#1:  A husband who works hard to provide for his family, teaches karate so that his daughters can take it, shares his passion for biking with his children, takes his wife shooting, plays with his family and uses his priesthood for the benefit of his family while showing his sons and daughters how to honor it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/STCqPxZs6ZI/AAAAAAAAAeA/Mdy26DaNmGI/s1600-h/DIGI0018.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/STCqPxZs6ZI/AAAAAAAAAeA/Mdy26DaNmGI/s400/DIGI0018.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273902351586748818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;#2: A healthy active &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;pre&lt;/span&gt;-teen who loves to do karate, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;tries&lt;/span&gt; hard to do what is right, asks many, many, many questions to make sure she understands the principles that we are trying to teach her and still thinks that most boys are gross and dumb!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/STCqQG4ml7I/AAAAAAAAAeI/lbHvAuOL3ms/s1600-h/Picture+056.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/STCqQG4ml7I/AAAAAAAAAeI/lbHvAuOL3ms/s400/Picture+056.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273902357353502642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;#3: A daughter who finally believes she is smart, loves school, did awesome on her Johnny Appleseed wax museum report, would rather play in the dirt with the boys at school, loves to give me hugs and keeps me on my toes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/STCqQoqpnCI/AAAAAAAAAeQ/ig9gcZIJ5C0/s1600-h/Picture+002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/STCqQoqpnCI/AAAAAAAAAeQ/ig9gcZIJ5C0/s400/Picture+002.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273902366421785634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;#4:  A son who loves the chicken he caught on the 4&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; of July, loves his friends, loves soccer, scares me because of the things that he loves to try on his bike (thanks to his Dad!), tries to be obedient, wants to be just like his Dad when he grows up, plays well with his little brother and loves to take care of Max!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/STCqRPBvGjI/AAAAAAAAAeY/4Oclml4FGdM/s1600-h/Picture+003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/STCqRPBvGjI/AAAAAAAAAeY/4Oclml4FGdM/s400/Picture+003.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273902376719161906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;#5:  My little sidekick that sticks to me like glue, helps me cook, wakes me up at 4 am to snuggle, laughs all the time, teases everyone, tries to scare me and is fiercely independent until he thinks that I am walking out the door without him, watches football with his dadand says that he wants to play football for Boise State when he grows up!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/STCqRUWsZxI/AAAAAAAAAeg/uZMUhDUsqXY/s1600-h/Picture+031.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/STCqRUWsZxI/AAAAAAAAAeg/uZMUhDUsqXY/s400/Picture+031.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273902378149242642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#6: Extended family who provide lots of laughter, teasing, good times and love (this includes both sides of the family, I just don't have photos of my side! (happy now Bubba?) )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/STCsG4LGinI/AAAAAAAAAeo/xwnvP9V5btM/s1600-h/Picture+105.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/STCsG4LGinI/AAAAAAAAAeo/xwnvP9V5btM/s400/Picture+105.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273904397808994930" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#7: Friends who will always be there through thick and thin, love my kids like their own, listen to our fears, laugh when we are happy, cry when we are sad, are always honest with us, never mention our faults and are always in our corner cheering us on!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/STCsHJuHWFI/AAAAAAAAAew/6vc1BCskJys/s1600-h/Picture+062.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/STCsHJuHWFI/AAAAAAAAAew/6vc1BCskJys/s400/Picture+062.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273904402519251026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;#7:  continued from above,  come into our lives when we most need them, and stay regardless of the distance between our homes, are only a phone call or text away, never make fun of your dreams and share theirs with you, their doors are always open!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/STCsHTsvx5I/AAAAAAAAAe4/xVKEnitPm44/s1600-h/Picture+133.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/STCsHTsvx5I/AAAAAAAAAe4/xVKEnitPm44/s400/Picture+133.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273904405197866898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;#7: friends continued still, share their abilities and accomplishments no matter that the whole world knows who they are and never act like they are better than you.  Provide another positive roll model for your children and not only invite you into their world, but make sure that you feel welcome!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/STCsHuDjwFI/AAAAAAAAAfA/7YRLU0tFXi8/s1600-h/Picture+020.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/STCsHuDjwFI/AAAAAAAAAfA/7YRLU0tFXi8/s400/Picture+020.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273904412272869458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#8: the things that remind me of who is ultimately in control and is always mindful of me and what is going on in my life.  The beauty that these possess and the joy they give me by just being!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/STCsH9BGozI/AAAAAAAAAfI/pTRiqwr8lIk/s1600-h/CIMG0364.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/STCsH9BGozI/AAAAAAAAAfI/pTRiqwr8lIk/s400/CIMG0364.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5273904416289104690" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are so many other things that I am grateful for but this post would be impossibly long.&lt;br /&gt;Let it suffice to say that everyday I am appreciative of one more thing than the previous day.  Today as my friend returns to Iraq, I am particularly grateful for his and his family's sacrifice along with the countless others who give all that they have to ensure our many freedoms, even to the sacrificing of their lives.  May they ever know that I am eternally in their debt for allowing me to keep the right to speak my mind and ever grateful for all the freedoms that come from their service!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6514522334328681200-6730867755579352863?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/6730867755579352863/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=6730867755579352863' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/6730867755579352863'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/6730867755579352863'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2008/11/season-for-giving-thanks.html' title='A season for giving thanks!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/STCqPxZs6ZI/AAAAAAAAAeA/Mdy26DaNmGI/s72-c/DIGI0018.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-2711433413659131339</id><published>2008-11-23T09:35:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-23T10:04:35.923-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I was pleasantly surprised by....</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was rot with surprises for me.  First was that the alarm to the school started going off when I unlocked the door for the cheerleaders.  Thank heaven that the office manager was there shortly after to drop her daughter off and she turned the alarm off for me.  That could have turned out a lot different and not pleasant at all.  Then our family went to the Gun Show in Sandy to find a few things for our 72 hour kits.  We found everything on our list and a couple of extras too.  Merry Christmas to us!  The kids even got a pocket knife each.  I have never been to a show where we got everything on are list.  There were 2 times that I felt like we should get something.  We heeded the feeling the first time and I couldn't think why I should get the second item which was a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;duffle bag&lt;/span&gt;, because we had so many.  When we got home and talked about it, I discovered why the feeling had been there.  One more reminder to me to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;always&lt;/span&gt; listen to that little voice and ignore my own ideas.  Good thing it wasn't a big deal this time.   We quickly made it through all of the vendors so that I could meet some friends to see the movie "Twilight".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SSmWM2eqV2I/AAAAAAAAAdY/NtCmTHml_3E/s1600-h/twilight-movie-poster-moon.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 282px; height: 400px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SSmWM2eqV2I/AAAAAAAAAdY/NtCmTHml_3E/s400/twilight-movie-poster-moon.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271909986340591458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I went to the movie knowing that a movie-made-from-a-book is never as good as the book.  I wasn't too convinced that the casting was right either, but there were some scenes from the book that I wanted to see them in color, not just in my imagination.  I patiently waited in line for about 40 minutes with my friends.  The theater was packed and there were actually about 10 men brave enough to enter this world of vampires with all these women.  I now like who they cast for the characters with one exception and that person was not the lead so I can live with it.  The scenes that I wanted to see were done beautifully.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SSmWvPRSOBI/AAAAAAAAAdo/Os06UiMdPVU/s1600-h/twilight+1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SSmWvPRSOBI/AAAAAAAAAdo/Os06UiMdPVU/s400/twilight+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5271910577110923282" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The above scene was one of my favorites that was a surprise for me.  I laughed when a lot of the women "oohed" when Dr. Cullen came on screen, giggled when a couple of things were corny instead of scary like I had imagined them and really wished that some of my close friends had been there with me for it so that the things that we had discussed could be rediscussed.  I thought that the movie was well done especially considering that it was from a book.  I have learned that no movie will ever match up to my imagination.  This is another case where you can see the movie and then read the book to add extra details.  I will go see it again with my friends and love it again.  I thought that the movie did a good job at showing the feelings in the relationship between Edward and Bella.  Anyone want to go with me while all kids are in school so that the teenagers aren't making funny noises and a cell phone isn't going off behind me?  I give the movie an A.&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/6514522334328681200-2711433413659131339?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/2711433413659131339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=2711433413659131339' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/2711433413659131339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/2711433413659131339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2008/11/i-was-pleasantly-surprised-by.html' title='I was pleasantly surprised by....'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SSmWM2eqV2I/AAAAAAAAAdY/NtCmTHml_3E/s72-c/twilight-movie-poster-moon.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-4040591604248372059</id><published>2008-11-13T11:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-15T07:38:36.301-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Saying goodbye!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;We learned last week that Steve has high cholesterol.  The doctor has given him 3 months to get it down or he will have to go on meds.  He is only 37.  I can't imagine another 40 + years on meds.  I have been reading up on what he should and shouldn't eat.  Since it is a genetic thing for him, I figure the whole family may as well eat healthier so the kids can learn now to eat like they should for this genetic mutation.  So we are saying good-bye to some of our favorites or eating them a lot less.  It is up to me to keep the menu on track, because they all eat pretty much whatever I feed them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SRx_KgnFpVI/AAAAAAAAAdA/SJGR_alqVck/s1600-h/Steak.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 388px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SRx_KgnFpVI/AAAAAAAAAdA/SJGR_alqVck/s400/Steak.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268225482645939538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good-bye Mr. Red Meat!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SRx_KTdgnTI/AAAAAAAAAc4/XVWeUhYwwtk/s1600-h/veggies.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 377px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SRx_KTdgnTI/AAAAAAAAAc4/XVWeUhYwwtk/s400/veggies.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268225479116102962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come saute with me vegetable family!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SRx_KAuLPYI/AAAAAAAAAcw/j_xAkATKqEg/s1600-h/cream+soup.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 373px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SRx_KAuLPYI/AAAAAAAAAcw/j_xAkATKqEg/s400/cream+soup.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268225474085731714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good-bye cream family!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SRx_JzkZLvI/AAAAAAAAAco/c57tX1uWh7s/s1600-h/chocolate.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 300px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SRx_JzkZLvI/AAAAAAAAAco/c57tX1uWh7s/s400/chocolate.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268225470555041522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hello, Miss Sexy Dark Chocolate!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SRx_Jn_aYyI/AAAAAAAAAcg/AEsW7FsES6c/s1600-h/classic-cheesecakes-lg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 368px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SRx_Jn_aYyI/AAAAAAAAAcg/AEsW7FsES6c/s400/classic-cheesecakes-lg.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268225467447141154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Au revoir Monsieur Gateau du fromage!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Steve is doing good eating things that he doesn't like such as spinach when I don't disguise it.  Luckily we do eat pretty healthy, it is just a matter of remembering "plant are our friends, animals are our enemies!"  If you have any good recipes that are healthy, please share with me!&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/6514522334328681200-4040591604248372059?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/4040591604248372059/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=4040591604248372059' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/4040591604248372059'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/4040591604248372059'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2008/11/saying-goodbye.html' title='Saying goodbye!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SRx_KgnFpVI/AAAAAAAAAdA/SJGR_alqVck/s72-c/Steak.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-4507459925795057078</id><published>2008-10-26T18:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-26T19:20:25.264-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Meetings, meetings, meetings......</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SQUg5ewpkYI/AAAAAAAAAcI/UFc99a8vDH4/s1600-h/meeting.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 242px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SQUg5ewpkYI/AAAAAAAAAcI/UFc99a8vDH4/s400/meeting.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5261647911534039426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been feeling that meetings are going to be the death of me.  I have a meeting at least once a week for my callings or something else that I am involved in.  Most of these meetings are what I call fluff meetings.  There really is no reason to have them except that the organizers feel for some odd reason that it is necessary.  I find it annoying because a 2 minute &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;phone call&lt;/span&gt; or better yet a 1 page email would accomplish the same thing.  As the athletic director, most of my conversing is done via email.  I love it.  It wastes no ones time with stupid questions that have already been answered.  If I get such an email I simply respond by forwarding the answer that was already sent.  As far as church meetings go, we were counselled about 5 years ago to not have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;unnecessary&lt;/span&gt; meetings, but to especially eliminate most of our Sunday meetings.  I must admit that I personally abstain from most of those meetings that I am supposed to go to on Sunday.  I believe that my time is better spent with my family.  Steve has 2 days off a week and one of them is Sunday.  I am happy to go to meetings when he is at work or when it doesn't take away from my family plans.  I have always been taught that family comes first in this religion and sad to say, there are people who believe that their callings come before their family.  I am not one of those and for some reason not even the prophet feels that the church comes before his family, so I am in good company.&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/6514522334328681200-4507459925795057078?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/4507459925795057078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=4507459925795057078' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/4507459925795057078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/4507459925795057078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2008/10/meetings-meetings-meetings.html' title='Meetings, meetings, meetings......'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SQUg5ewpkYI/AAAAAAAAAcI/UFc99a8vDH4/s72-c/meeting.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-7546241039871315850</id><published>2008-10-12T20:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-12T20:20:13.567-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My cup runneth over!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SPK6vRF7mZI/AAAAAAAAAcA/kPgs4LP56M4/s1600-h/horn+of+plenty.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SPK6vRF7mZI/AAAAAAAAAcA/kPgs4LP56M4/s400/horn+of+plenty.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5256469036299688338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was a good day, despite the cold weather.  It has been one of those days were I reflect on the things that I have received.  Sidnee was baptized yesterday.  We are fortunate to have much family and many good friends around us who came to help us celebrate the occasion with her.  I can hardly believe how fast she and my other children are growing up.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Somedays&lt;/span&gt; I do feel like they are making me lose my mind, but what parent doesn't feel that way occasionally?  It is strange to me to think that Steve and I have been married for almost 12 1/2 years.  We have a beautiful home in a great neighborhood with great neighbors and many friends.  Steve has a good job, our vehicles run, we are all healthy and sassy!  We love our ward, our town and our hobbies. We have food in our fridge, freezer and food storage.  We have clothes to keep us warm and a furnace that works to heat our home.  I am really enjoying my warm slippers right now.  I have &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Internet&lt;/span&gt; and phone to help me keep in touch with those who don't live close.  I live in country where I am free to worship my God and vote for whom ever I please.  My children are able to go to school and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;receive&lt;/span&gt; a good education.  There is gas in my van so I can go wherever I want at least until I have to buy more gas.  I get to play volleyball, basketball and softball with women in my ward.  I had a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;bounteous&lt;/span&gt; tomato harvest.  There is just so much that I have to be grateful for.  What more could a person want besides a Chrysler 300?  Seriously though, it really humbles me to think about all that I have.  I may not be rich in the eyes of the world, but in my eyes, I am rich beyond my wildest dreams.&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/6514522334328681200-7546241039871315850?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/7546241039871315850/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=7546241039871315850' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/7546241039871315850'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/7546241039871315850'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2008/10/my-cup-runneth-over.html' title='My cup runneth over!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SPK6vRF7mZI/AAAAAAAAAcA/kPgs4LP56M4/s72-c/horn+of+plenty.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-7895631180432492608</id><published>2008-10-09T22:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-09T23:09:10.514-07:00</updated><title type='text'>count your blessings</title><content type='html'>The  idea that really struck during conference was gratitude.  There were several talks that touched on that topic.  It made me stop and think about the things that I have to be grateful for.  There are so many little things that I tend to take for granted or chalk them up to luck, that really are blessings.  Steve and I have been working pretty consistently on our food storage since before we moved to Eagle Mountain just over 3 years ago.  I have been &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;couponing&lt;/span&gt; and canning things.  I didn't can too much last year, but this year I was determined to.  I bought 2 bushels of peaches that we put up as a family.  Even the kids helped without complaining too much.  After finishing the peaches, I really was feeling that we didn't have enough put away.  I was wanting to can more, but as is with everyone right now, money was not in the budget for that.  The next day one of my neighbors gave me a box full of pectin for freezer jam.  I almost didn't take it because I didn't have any fruit left to jam, but I just couldn't say no.  So here I was Saturday with a box of pectin, but no fruit.  Monday I went to run an errand.  While on that errand a friend called to tell me that the Church cannery had a surplus of peaches and could I please grab her some on my way home.  I told her that I would.  I grabbed a box on the way and then stopped at the cannery.  I ended coming home with about 5 - 6 bushels of peaches.  Now I was feeling grateful that I had taken the pectin because here was fruit to use it on.  I called a friend and the next day she and I spent 4 hours making jam.  We still hadn't made a dent in the peaches.  We decided to have a canning party during priesthood session and invite whoever wanted to come.  We ended up with 5 ladies.  We made jam for 1 1/2 hours and still had about 1 1/2 bushels left and a ton of pectin.  We decided that since we had used all of our containers that we would let someone else have the rest of the peaches and pectin.  Just as we were finishing cleaning up we had 3 late comers show up, so we sent them home with the rest of the pectin and peaches.  Everyone was happy and feeling blessed.  Yesterday I was wishing that I had more tomatoes so that I could make and can some salsa.  Today I got an email from a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;freecycler&lt;/span&gt; saying that they had a lot of green tomatoes.  I was the first to respond.  I came home with 2 bushels of green tomatoes.  The man threw in some hot peppers and onions when he found out that I was going to make green tomato salsa.  Once again I am feeling very blessed.  These things have come to me when I have a lot of other things going on, but how could I not feel blessed when the Lord is giving me what I have asked for.  I feel very blessed that I can put food storage up for my family and be able to do it on our budget.  It makes me realize that the Lord is mindful of every righteous desire of our hearts.  It is as President &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Eyring&lt;/span&gt; has said, the more you look for blessings that have come to you, the more you see that you have been blessed with.  May we all look for what we have been given instead of focusing on what we don't.  Even in this time of uncertainty, we can be grateful for what we have now and live in the moment as President &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Monson&lt;/span&gt; has &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;counseled&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6514522334328681200-7895631180432492608?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/7895631180432492608/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=7895631180432492608' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/7895631180432492608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/7895631180432492608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2008/10/count-your-blessings.html' title='count your blessings'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-8491965049711313827</id><published>2008-10-08T21:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T22:07:07.294-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Take a stand</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SO2M-M5bdnI/AAAAAAAAAb4/a4WwG05R17g/s1600-h/wedding.jpeg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 133px; height: 217px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SO2M-M5bdnI/AAAAAAAAAb4/a4WwG05R17g/s400/wedding.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5255011340453115506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints has asked once again for its members to take a stand for marriage.  This time for those in California to vote for Prop 8 which will repeal the current marriage law and make it so that a marriage will only be between a man and a woman.  If you live outside of California you are to get  a hold of family and friends there and encourage them to vote for it.  I will support that and email my family in California.  This is an issue where no man can sit on the fence any longer.  The local news had an interview with a family here in Utah who is LDS and has gay children.  They feel they are being torn by this issue.  I don't understand this.  Although more extreme, how is it different than how a parent should react if their child gets caught stealing, or decides to live with someone out of wedlock?  As a parent you should reprimand the child, but still love them.  How is that hard?  If my child decides to live with her boyfriend, I will let her know how I feel, I would be worried that she is not living the principles that she has been taught therefore not be able to have the full benefits of membership, but I would still love her.  In my mind you can love a wayward child, while still living the gospel of Jesus Christ to the fullest.  There is no one forcing me to choose between my church and my child.  I hear so many people say that the church should change it's rules.  I say no!  Very much NO!!!  God will not change the rules just because he has a child who is having problems passing his test here on earth.  I am sure He is more heart broken than we can imagine.  I say this as a parent who loves her children with all that she is and knows that what I feel for my children is a minute fraction of what our Father in Heaven feels for us.  I know that this is a difficult situation for many, but we need to remember that gender is essential to our premortal, mortal and post mortal lives.  I hope that the Lord will bless those whose lives this personally affects will rely on Him and be granted the peace of mind that they need at this time.&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/6514522334328681200-8491965049711313827?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/8491965049711313827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=8491965049711313827' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/8491965049711313827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/8491965049711313827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2008/10/take-stand.html' title='Take a stand'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SO2M-M5bdnI/AAAAAAAAAb4/a4WwG05R17g/s72-c/wedding.jpeg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-4336248375148008970</id><published>2008-10-08T12:22:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T12:41:19.252-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Sloppy Joes!</title><content type='html'>I was talking with a friend and we agreed that when we find a recipe that we like, we should just put it on our blog so that all can see.  So here is the recipe for Sloppy Joes that I just discovered.  I wanted to find a recipe  that my family would like as I have never made them for my family due to the fact that Steve doesn't really care for them.  I also wanted to find one that I could make from things that I already have in my food storage.  Anyway, here it is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Sloppy Joe Sandwiches&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;                      &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;1 lb ground beef                           1 Cup ketchup&lt;br /&gt;                      1/4 C water                                    2 Tbls brown sugar&lt;br /&gt;                      2 tsp worcestershire sauce        2 tsp mustard&lt;br /&gt;                      1/2 tsp garlic powder                  1/2 tsp onion powder&lt;br /&gt;                      1/2 tsp salt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                  In a large saucepan, cook beef over medium heat until no&lt;br /&gt;                  longer pink: drain.  Stir in the remaining ingredients.  Bring&lt;br /&gt;                  to a boil.  Reduce heat: cover and simmer 30 - 40 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;                  Serve on buns.  Yields 4 servings.  Taste of Home cookbook.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6514522334328681200-4336248375148008970?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/4336248375148008970/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=4336248375148008970' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/4336248375148008970'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/4336248375148008970'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2008/10/sloppy-joes.html' title='Sloppy Joes!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-4905802992353932806</id><published>2008-10-08T11:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-08T12:14:01.577-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Politics is like religion!</title><content type='html'>With the upcoming election there are many people who are talking about politics and I have witnessed some very heated discussions.  Here in Utah the majority of people are Republican with of course the minority being Democratic supporters.  It doesn't do any good to harass others about their beliefs, just like we don't harass people about their religious beliefs.  It is perfectly fine to as questions and try to see the others' point of views, but when it comes to arguing that only gets people's backs up and causes hard feelings.  I may not agree with some of the reasons that other people back their prefered candidate, but I will not make fun of them.  Just as I will not make fun of those who are not of the religion that I believe in.  I really think that it is interesting that some people pay more attention to politics than they do their religion.  It amazes me and at the same time makes me sad to think how much effort goes into something they do every four years compared to something that they do every day.  I think that the same council that my ecclesiastical leader gives me about interacting with people of other faiths can apply to interacting with people of other political views.  Treat them as human beings, answer their questions, but never argue with them.  You will never convert someone to your point of view by belittling theirs.  Arguing never leads to anything but pain and misery.  Anyway, enough from my soap box for now.  Whatever side you stand on this election, my request to you is this, please vote in this upcoming election for the candidate that you feel is the best for what you beleive after you have gotten down on your knees and counciled with your maker.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6514522334328681200-4905802992353932806?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/4905802992353932806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=4905802992353932806' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/4905802992353932806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/4905802992353932806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2008/10/politics-is-like-religion.html' title='Politics is like religion!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-2657808291185812609</id><published>2008-09-27T20:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-27T21:04:54.038-07:00</updated><title type='text'>time stretcher</title><content type='html'>I have seemed to run into days that are too short. My days need about 28 hours in them and my weeks need 9 days to do all the things that I need to get done. My house seems to be suffering from the lack of this missing time. This found time would allow me to get 2 more loads of laundry, 1 more hour of homework and stories for the kids and maybe a story for myself. I have searched the internet for such a contraption to accomodate my needs but alas have come to a dead end. I have several mechanically inclined family members and friends that might be able to help. Do you think that if I bribed them with fresh homemade bread and jam that they would rise to the occasion and answer my cry for help? Any volunteers are welcome. I promise the bread and jam are worth it! :-)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6514522334328681200-2657808291185812609?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/2657808291185812609/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=2657808291185812609' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/2657808291185812609'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/2657808291185812609'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2008/09/time-stretcher.html' title='time stretcher'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-1073153708457951680</id><published>2008-09-22T15:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-22T15:47:51.250-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Has anybody seen.....?</title><content type='html'>Life has been a little crazy since school started.  That might be putting it very mildly.  I was asked at the end of the summer to be the Athletic Director at my kids' school.  I agreed whole &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;heartedly&lt;/span&gt; because I would love for there to be a good program going by the time Raven enters middle school.  That is only 2 years away.  I mistakenly thought that it would take only a little more time than it did to coach soccer this past spring and our family has to volunteer 40 hours a year anyway so...!&lt;br /&gt;WRONG.  We are 3 weeks into the school year and I am averaging 2 hours a day on this VOLUNTEER position!  I could do more except that I still have a house to run. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SNggJqWFCcI/AAAAAAAAAbw/g_GftgzCxm8/s1600-h/brain.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SNggJqWFCcI/AAAAAAAAAbw/g_GftgzCxm8/s400/brain.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248980716058118594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is what my shriveled brain should look like instead of the raisin it has become.&lt;br /&gt;Between being: Mom, wife, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;chauffeur&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;vt&lt;/span&gt; district leader, Stake Y.W. sports director, house cleaner, laundry lady, chief chef (although the bread that Raven made yesterday tastes pretty good), dishwasher, homework warden, pipe fixer.... I am finding it hard to find time to sleep.  Even though I really want to take a nap everyday with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Jaxon&lt;/span&gt; and don't.  It seems that I have misplaced my brain somewhere because everything that goes into one ear comes right out the other ear.  My brain is no longer stopping things.  Of course I am not sure that I would change anything even if I could!  So if you see an extra brain or two lying around, would you please send them my way?&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/6514522334328681200-1073153708457951680?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/1073153708457951680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=1073153708457951680' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/1073153708457951680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/1073153708457951680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2008/09/has-anybody-seen.html' title='Has anybody seen.....?'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SNggJqWFCcI/AAAAAAAAAbw/g_GftgzCxm8/s72-c/brain.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-3542452927802586510</id><published>2008-09-06T12:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-06T12:45:16.667-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stolen body parts!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;You've heard about people who have been abducted and had  their kidneys removed by black-market organ thieves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;        My thighs were stolen from me during the night a few years  ago. I went to sleep and woke up with someone else's thighs.  It was just  that quick. The replacements had the texture of cooked oatmeal. Whose thighs  were these and what happened to mine? I spent the entire summer looking for my  thighs.  Finally, hurt and angry, I resigned myself to living out my life  in jeans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     And then the thieves struck  again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      My butt was next. I knew it was  the same gang, because they took pains to match my new rear-end to the thighs  they had stuck me with earlier.  But my new butt was attached at least  three inches lower than my original!  I realized I'd have to give up my  jeans in favor of long skirts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     Two years  ago I realized my arms had been switched. One morning I was fixing my hair and  was horrified to see the flesh of my upper arm swing to and fro with the motion  of the hairbrush. This was really getting scary - my body was being replaced one  section at a time.  What could they do to me  next?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     When my poor neck suddenly  disappeared and was replaced with a turkey neck, I decided to tell my story.   Women of the world, wake up and smell the coffee!  Those 'plastic'  surgeons are using REAL replacement body parts - stolen from you and me!   The next time someone you know has something 'lifted', look again - was it  lifted from you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 51, 153); font-weight: bold;"&gt; THIS IS NOT A  HOAX.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   This is happening to women everywhere  every night.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(204, 0, 0); font-weight: bold;"&gt;WARN YOUR  FRIENDS!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;    PS.  Last year I thought some one  had stolen my Boobs.  I was lying in bed and they were gone! But when I  jumped out of bed, I was relieved to see that they had just been hiding in my  armpits as I slept. Now I keep them hidden in my  waistband.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   I have also found that they take the  hair that is falling out of your head and make it grow out of your  chin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PLEASE ALERT ALL THE MATURE WOMEN YOU  KNOW AND MAKE THEIR DAY!!!!!!!  LOL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;'Life isn't about waiting for  the storm to pass, it's about learning to dance in the  rain.'&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6514522334328681200-3542452927802586510?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/3542452927802586510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=3542452927802586510' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/3542452927802586510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/3542452927802586510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2008/09/stolen-body-parts.html' title='Stolen body parts!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-626121732403233313</id><published>2008-08-30T07:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-30T08:03:47.508-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Will it ever stop?!?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SLlfQazKeNI/AAAAAAAAAa0/pkurSMb_VMQ/s1600-h/Picture+031.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SLlfQazKeNI/AAAAAAAAAa0/pkurSMb_VMQ/s400/Picture+031.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5240324377098746066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Do you ever feel like your life is a carousel ride?  You keep going up and down and round and round.  Every year it seems to keep getting faster with no sign of slowing down.  It always seems like there is more to do everyday then I have time in the day to do those things.  I keep waiting for it to stop and it never does.  Sometimes I feel so dizzy that I want to puke.   Between taking kids to school, soccer, karate, activity days, birthday parties, cleaning the house (right!), grocery shopping and sick kids (those never happen, do they?) when am I supposed to squeeze time in for the yard and church callings never mind trying to find me time, I am exhausted.  Or maybe that was from the lack of sleep?  It is hard to find some calm in this stormy sea of life, but I am trying.  Any clues as to where to find the off lever on this carousel called life?&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/6514522334328681200-626121732403233313?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/626121732403233313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=626121732403233313' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/626121732403233313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/626121732403233313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2008/08/will-it-ever-stop.html' title='Will it ever stop?!?'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SLlfQazKeNI/AAAAAAAAAa0/pkurSMb_VMQ/s72-c/Picture+031.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-7364589432265127383</id><published>2008-08-21T04:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-21T04:13:48.720-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Family Reunion</title><content type='html'>Last week the kids and I went to my family reunion in Ellensburg, Washington.  We took our time on the way there.  We stayed 2 nights at the Hull's in Boise, 3 nights at my brother's in Oregon, and 3 nights at my aunt's house.  We camped 2 of the nights in her back yard and the last night we stayed in the house as we decided to stay after all of our things were packed.  It was a really relaxing vacation until the drive home.  Due to the fact that we stayed in Washington on Saturday night, we had to make the whole drive home on Sunday as the girls started school on Monday.  The kids did really well and I am happy to report that they all came home with me.  I did not intentionally or unintentionally misplace them anywhere along the way.  Here are a couple pics of my family.  This is my Mom's side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SK1MjcuvFMI/AAAAAAAAAZU/NF9psK1N2kY/s1600-h/Picture+127.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SK1MjcuvFMI/AAAAAAAAAZU/NF9psK1N2kY/s400/Picture+127.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236926113593103554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The tasty carne asada being cooked.  Yes it was very good, even used in breakfast burritos the next morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SK1MjhOUH2I/AAAAAAAAAZc/3fJI3Np7mH0/s1600-h/Picture+130.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SK1MjhOUH2I/AAAAAAAAAZc/3fJI3Np7mH0/s400/Picture+130.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5236926114799296354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were tons of small kids.  I think that I was told that there were 17 under the age of 5.  My mom herself has 13 grandkids with 2 more on the way.  No that is not an announcement for those of you who are curious!  I am not having anymore babies!!!!!!!&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/6514522334328681200-7364589432265127383?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/7364589432265127383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=7364589432265127383' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/7364589432265127383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/7364589432265127383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2008/08/family-reunion.html' title='Family Reunion'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SK1MjcuvFMI/AAAAAAAAAZU/NF9psK1N2kY/s72-c/Picture+127.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-7527179431994105971</id><published>2008-08-20T15:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-20T15:54:15.423-07:00</updated><title type='text'>So many things, so little time!</title><content type='html'>I know I have been A.W.O.L. for awhile, but I am back.  I had a nice little vacation and need some time to gather my thoughts and photos.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6514522334328681200-7527179431994105971?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/7527179431994105971/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=7527179431994105971' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/7527179431994105971'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/7527179431994105971'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2008/08/so-many-things-so-little-time.html' title='So many things, so little time!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-422516107350308377</id><published>2008-08-10T23:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-10T23:39:56.145-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Not a bad penny, just a mean sister!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SJ_enwMcbYI/AAAAAAAAAYg/tZ_qQ8NRpKo/s1600-h/NO%2520BULLIES.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233146066561166722" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SJ_enwMcbYI/AAAAAAAAAYg/tZ_qQ8NRpKo/s400/NO%2520BULLIES.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just found out that the reason Jaxon broke stuff in the chicken coop was because his mean sister Raven thought it would be funny to lock him in the dark coop by himself. She forbade Luke and Mason to open the door even though Jaxon seemed to be going bizerk inside. Erick said that from the damage that was done Jaxon must be claustrophobic. He said that he was extremely surprised that Jaxon didn't have a bunch of scratches or bruises on his little body. He said that Jaxon had torn through things trying to get out. Jaxon finally broke through the wall of the coop beside the door, breaking the door in half. Let's just say that the only thing that kept me from beating the crap out of Raven or locking her in the coop by herself was the fact that there were other kids sleeping in the tent next to her. This story came to light after she scared the tar out of Mason so bad that his frightened noises made the dog start barking in the back yard. I will admit that I am having a hard time controlling my anger towards Raven right now. She and I will definitely be having some words in the morning when we wake up. I absolutely will not tolerate my child being a bully especially to her own siblings! I know without a doubt that if the tables were turned and someone did to her what she has done to her brothers she would without a doubt be freaking out and screaching at the top of her lungs demanding justice and retribution!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6514522334328681200-422516107350308377?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/422516107350308377/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=422516107350308377' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/422516107350308377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/422516107350308377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2008/08/not-bad-penny-just-mean-sister.html' title='Not a bad penny, just a mean sister!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SJ_enwMcbYI/AAAAAAAAAYg/tZ_qQ8NRpKo/s72-c/NO%2520BULLIES.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-6924405886426755988</id><published>2008-08-10T20:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-10T21:12:39.910-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A Bad Penny?</title><content type='html'>My family reunion is this coming weekend in Washington.  The kids and I left yesterday so that we could take our time and mostly so that I would not feel rushed.  We arrived at the Hull's in Boise about noon on Saturday.  Since then my dog has tipped over the swing set, Jaxon has broken some stuff in the chicken coop and minor other stuff.  I am waiting for Erick to tell us that we can't come back.  The Hull family probably feels like we are that preverbial bad penny that keeps turning up!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6514522334328681200-6924405886426755988?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/6924405886426755988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=6924405886426755988' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/6924405886426755988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/6924405886426755988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2008/08/bad-penny.html' title='A Bad Penny?'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-5075930889802270968</id><published>2008-08-06T14:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-06T14:20:58.059-07:00</updated><title type='text'>9 WORDS WOMEN USE</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);font-family:Arial;" &gt;(1)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 102);font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 51, 102);font-family:Arial;" &gt;Fine:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);font-family:Arial;" &gt;This  is the word women use to end an argument when they are right and you need to  shut up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(2)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 102);font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 51, 102);font-family:Arial;" &gt;Five  Minutes:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);font-family:Arial;" &gt;If  she is getting dressed, this means a half an hour. 'Five minutes' is only five  minutes if you have just been given five more minutes to watch the game before  helping around the house.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(3)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 102);font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 51, 102);font-family:Arial;" &gt;Nothing:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);font-family:Arial;" &gt;This  is the calm before the storm.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;color:black;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:Arial;color:black;"  &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);font-family:Arial;" &gt;This  means something, and you should be on your toes. Arguments that begin with  'nothing' usually end in 'fine'. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(4)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 102);font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 51, 102);font-family:Arial;" &gt;Go  Ahead:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);font-family:Arial;" &gt;This  is a dare, not permission. Don't Do It! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(5)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 102);font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 51, 102);font-family:Arial;" &gt;Loud  Sigh:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);font-family:Arial;" &gt;This  is actually a word, but is a non-verbal statement often misunderstood by men. A  loud sigh means she thinks you are an idiot and wonders why she is wasting her  time standing here and arguing with you about 'nothing'. (Refer back to # 3 for  the meaning of 'nothing'.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(6)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 102);font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 51, 102);font-family:Arial;" &gt;  That's Okay:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;color:black;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-family:Arial;color:black;"  &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);font-family:Arial;" &gt;This  is one of the most dangerous statements a woman can make to a man. 'That's okay'  means she wants to think long and hard before deciding how and when you will pay  for your mistake. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(7)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 102);font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 51, 102);font-family:Arial;" &gt;Thanks:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);font-family:Arial;" &gt;A  woman is thanking you, do not question, or Faint. Just say you're welcome. (I  want to add in a clause here - This is true, unless she says 'Thanks a lot' -  that is PURE sarcasm and she is not thanking you at all. DO NOT say 'you're  welcome' .. that will bring on a 'whatever').&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(8)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 102);font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 51, 102);font-family:Arial;" &gt;Whatever:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);font-family:Arial;" &gt;Is  a woman's way of saying '&lt;u&gt;SCREW&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 153);font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 51, 153);font-family:Arial;" &gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);font-family:Arial;" &gt;YOU'!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(9)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 51, 102);font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(0, 51, 102);font-family:Arial;" &gt;Don't  worry about it, I got it:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 0);font-family:Arial;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(153, 51, 0);font-family:Arial;" &gt;Another  dangerous statement, meaning this is something that a woman has told a man to do  several times, but is now doing it herself. This will later result in a man  asking 'What's wrong?' For the woman's response refer to # 3.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6514522334328681200-5075930889802270968?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/5075930889802270968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=5075930889802270968' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/5075930889802270968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/5075930889802270968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2008/08/9-words-women-use.html' title='9 WORDS WOMEN USE'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-773941829425831749</id><published>2008-08-05T14:07:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-05T14:13:17.462-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mamma Mia Rocks!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Jill Clark and I have been wanting to see Mamma Mia in Las Vegas for sometime now.  Everytime that we go there we comment on how much we want to see it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SJjBRhMznmI/AAAAAAAAAYY/vNuDovLOXZI/s1600-h/MammaMia.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SJjBRhMznmI/AAAAAAAAAYY/vNuDovLOXZI/s400/MammaMia.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5231143473904852578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we heard that it was being made into a movie we decided that we would go see it together.  We finally got our crazy schedules to correspond today.  We went to the first showing.  We were not disappointed except that one of the main characters ends up being gay.  That was the only thing that I objected too.  I love Abba so it was great to hear their music.  Yes I know that the story is built around their music.  I thought the movie was cast very well and thought Meryl Streep did a fantastic job.  I didn't know that she could sing.  So if you love Abba at all, go see the movie.  I now have to save my pennies so that I can buy the soundtrack!&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/6514522334328681200-773941829425831749?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/773941829425831749/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=773941829425831749' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/773941829425831749'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/773941829425831749'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2008/08/mamma-mia-rocks.html' title='Mamma Mia Rocks!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SJjBRhMznmI/AAAAAAAAAYY/vNuDovLOXZI/s72-c/MammaMia.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-3874954486439890833</id><published>2008-08-04T13:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T13:26:44.251-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I am finished.......</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Okay, I know that I really procrastinated reading the Twilight series just to be stubborn.  I borrowed the first three books from a friend and read them all over Memorial weekend.  I was hooked.  I love Stephenie Meyer's writing style and feeling like I am sitting there with everything unfolding right before me.  Her books are easy to read and clean.  Everything was left to the imagination.  I love that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SJdizUaGAhI/AAAAAAAAAYQ/Yj1dMHqFZHo/s1600-h/BreakingDawnBook.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SJdizUaGAhI/AAAAAAAAAYQ/Yj1dMHqFZHo/s400/BreakingDawnBook.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230758126005125650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;So early Saturday morning I got my hands on the last book.  I finished it this morning.  I love it.  I love how she answered all the questions that I had from the other books.  I am sad to be done and am looking forward to the book that she is supposed to write from Jacob's perspective.  Want to know what happens?  Do you?  Then go read the book instead of my blog!&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/6514522334328681200-3874954486439890833?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/3874954486439890833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=3874954486439890833' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/3874954486439890833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/3874954486439890833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2008/08/i-am-finished.html' title='I am finished.......'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SJdizUaGAhI/AAAAAAAAAYQ/Yj1dMHqFZHo/s72-c/BreakingDawnBook.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-5543390285086969579</id><published>2008-07-21T11:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-21T11:50:23.631-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Boobies!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SITYHduHZMI/AAAAAAAAAPA/gMrNKEed0Q4/s1600-h/bra.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 230px;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SITYHduHZMI/AAAAAAAAAPA/gMrNKEed0Q4/s400/bra.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225539090405352642" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;I went bra shopping the other day.  Of course the boys had to stay with me while Steve was shopping for a belt.  It didn't take too long before Jaxon realized that there were some bras at his level.  Can you guess what happened next?  No, he did not try one on.  I am sure it is because that is what I was anticipating.  Instead he reached straight out with both hands, squeezed the cups (I am sure your husbands have all done this to you!) and said "Boobies Mommy, just like yours"!  I corrected him by telling him that it was in fact a bra!  Can we say that this little apple doesn't fall far from the tree?!?  He isn't even three and he is already fascinated by breasts!  Am I in trouble or what?&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/6514522334328681200-5543390285086969579?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/5543390285086969579/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=5543390285086969579' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/5543390285086969579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/5543390285086969579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2008/07/boobies.html' title='Boobies!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SITYHduHZMI/AAAAAAAAAPA/gMrNKEed0Q4/s72-c/bra.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-777992216857416916</id><published>2008-07-19T09:47:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-19T09:55:03.610-07:00</updated><title type='text'>To ....Facebook or not?</title><content type='html'>I have been sent multiple invites to join face book, but never have because I didn't know much about it.  Steve is on it and showed me what it was all about so I thought that I would give it a try.  It has put me back in touch with people that I haven't talked to or seen since I moved to Utah almost 13 years ago.  It is almost as fun and addictive as blogging.  It has been nice to catch up on old friends and to see their families.  I must admit that there are some things that I found out that I didn't want to know.  Some of my friends seem to not have aged at all (I hate you all) and others that have added wrinkles and inches like I have (glad that I'm not the only one), then there is the rest who I had a hard time recognizing.  It is exciting to renew old friendships.  I must admit that I haven't had as many friends since I was a young adult as I do now in my current neighborhood.  I feel sad for those who have few friends and hope that I can be a better friend to those who consider me their friend.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6514522334328681200-777992216857416916?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/777992216857416916/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=777992216857416916' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/777992216857416916'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/777992216857416916'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2008/07/to-facebook-or-not.html' title='To ....Facebook or not?'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-3624483182582556787</id><published>2008-07-14T22:43:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-14T22:50:27.119-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Did you know that......</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHw5aIOVb2I/AAAAAAAAANg/xxsJLWiDQhE/s1600-h/full+moon.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 265px; height: 183px;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHw5aIOVb2I/AAAAAAAAANg/xxsJLWiDQhE/s400/full+moon.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5223112788889923426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I am a parent who likes to believe that my child can ask me any question and I will give them an honest answer without making them feel stupid.  I failed in that tonight.  As we were driving home, I pointed out the moon to Jaxon because he always wants to know where it is.  I proceeded to tell him that it was growing and would be a full moon before too long.   Raven piped in and asked if full moons made women pregnant.  I couldn't help but laugh.  It took me about 30 seconds to control the laughter as she paused to think about what she said.  She corrected herself by saying she meant to ask if it makes pregnant women go into labor.  Kids really do say some of the darnest things!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6514522334328681200-3624483182582556787?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/3624483182582556787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=3624483182582556787' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/3624483182582556787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/3624483182582556787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2008/07/did-you-know-that.html' title='Did you know that......'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHw5aIOVb2I/AAAAAAAAANg/xxsJLWiDQhE/s72-c/full+moon.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-8893401678164463108</id><published>2008-07-12T14:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-12T15:07:45.362-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What do you see?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHkoKy2TvqI/AAAAAAAAANI/3b5NPuLaDR0/s1600-h/woman.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 394px; height: 295px;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHkoKy2TvqI/AAAAAAAAANI/3b5NPuLaDR0/s400/woman.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5222249408826162850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;This is one of my favorite pictures because it helps me remember to look for the beauty in things.  I find that you can apply this principle of positive thinking to anything in life, it just may be harder with some things.  I know each of us struggles with different things.  I try to find the beauty in the situation which is hard in the day and age when we are surrounded by so much negative.  I am trying to teach my kids this idea.  Some days it is easier than others.  It is definitely easier to snap back at a snide comment than turn it into something funny.  Let me tell you of a recent situation that I had to deal with.  I was promised something from someone.  I asked several times when I could come pick it up after it was promised to me.  I heard nothing from them for a couple of days, then I finally got a response.  I was told that they were sorry, but they had felt impressed to give it to someone else, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;even though&lt;/span&gt; it was promised to me first.  I was a little upset, because I wanted it and had been promised it.  After taking a deep breath, I responded back, letting them know that I appreciated the honesty that had been presented and that knew that it had to be hard, let's face it, being honest can be hard.  I then let them know that I was grateful for people who followed their inspiration, because that person probably needed the item more than I did and then I let them know that we were good.  The response I got back was cool and made my day.  This person had expected me to slam them and was extremely grateful that I hadn't.  They had worried about getting back to me and that was why it took them so long.  I felt really good and had never had such a response for turning the other cheek.  I was so grateful that I had reacted like I did because it truly lifted another and isn't that what we are supposed to do.  It really gives me more reason to be positive.  So I hope that you too can see the young woman instead of the old hag.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6514522334328681200-8893401678164463108?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/8893401678164463108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=8893401678164463108' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/8893401678164463108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/8893401678164463108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2008/07/what-do-you-see.html' title='What do you see?'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHkoKy2TvqI/AAAAAAAAANI/3b5NPuLaDR0/s72-c/woman.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-5243321580469173646</id><published>2008-07-10T18:18:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-10T18:41:28.734-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The place I grew up....</title><content type='html'>Sidnee is off on a grand adventure in my home town.  There are many things that I loved about growing up there.  I am hoping that she will get to experience some of those things.  Here are a few things that I know she will see while she is there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHa1K9akRdI/AAAAAAAAALI/PfqZPcUOoV8/s1600-h/logging+truck.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 104px; height: 82px;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHa1K9akRdI/AAAAAAAAALI/PfqZPcUOoV8/s400/logging+truck.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221560017871979986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The logging trucks tend to own the road.  You really don't want to come around a corner and run into one of these.  My dad did and totalled my absolute favorite vehicle that I drove growing up.  A red ford 4 door pick up.  I had tons of fun in that going digging.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHa1LDcWZgI/AAAAAAAAALQ/FZNdnlCPTRs/s1600-h/hay.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHa1LDcWZgI/AAAAAAAAALQ/FZNdnlCPTRs/s400/hay.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221560019490072066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is hay season up there and she will get to help her "Papa"(my dad)drive the tractor and learn what haying is all about.  I can't tell you how many times I fell asleep while plowing a field.  I will say that I had a lot of fun on the haystacks playing king of the castle.  I could usually beat my brother, right Brett?  Oh well, he was better on the basketball court, which is where you could find us when we weren't busy on the farm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHa1LpiNeXI/AAAAAAAAALg/2VFbjW2hmaY/s1600-h/Vanderhoof.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHa1LpiNeXI/AAAAAAAAALg/2VFbjW2hmaY/s400/Vanderhoof.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221560029715200370" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Main street in the "Hoof".  Yes there is actually a 7-11 in my home town.  They even have a KFC so they are really hip.  Both of those didn't exist when I lived there.  My brother and I never did cruise Main as there was always stuff to do at home or at the high school gym.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHa1Ltq9nsI/AAAAAAAAALo/Bs5VV-j6eUQ/s1600-h/Vanderhoof+forest.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHa1Ltq9nsI/AAAAAAAAALo/Bs5VV-j6eUQ/s400/Vanderhoof+forest.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221560030825651906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The many forests around my parents house where our horses and pigs would frequently play hide and seek with us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHa1LJVPawI/AAAAAAAAALY/741HD_auPys/s1600-h/northern+lights.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHa1LJVPawI/AAAAAAAAALY/741HD_auPys/s400/northern+lights.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221560021070867202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Northern Lights are beautiful and one of the things I miss the most about being down here.  They are beautiful and the most colorful between now and September.  It is amazing to watch them.  There is no denying the existence of a God when you watch them.  They really do take your breath away.  So Mom, take Sidnee to Cheslatta Falls, tubing down the Nechako River, put a life jacket on her before you let her jump off the Nechako Bridge, because she will jump if given half a chance.  Don't forget to take her up Sinkut Mountain to see the beautiful view, and Deni, show her how to saddle a horse so that she can go riding whenever she wants and feel the wind on her face and in her hair and take her skinny dipping.  A ride or two on the four wheeler up to Crystal Lake if there is time and maybe a pull or two behind the boat on some skis.  Oh, don't forget to take her for some fries &amp; gravy, she'll like those.&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to live there, but I sure am grateful for some fond memories of Vanderhoof and would love for my children to experience some of my favorites.  Thanks Jill for being the taxi for Sidnee.  I really appreciate it.  Hey Sid, bring me back some ketchup chips and Laura Secord mint chocolate, and maybe a bar or two of MacIntosh Toffee.&lt;br /&gt;P.S.  Don't forget to take some pictures!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6514522334328681200-5243321580469173646?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/5243321580469173646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=5243321580469173646' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/5243321580469173646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/5243321580469173646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2008/07/place-i-grew-up.html' title='The place I grew up....'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHa1K9akRdI/AAAAAAAAALI/PfqZPcUOoV8/s72-c/logging+truck.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-7897272875684473463</id><published>2008-07-10T14:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-10T15:01:41.039-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ooooowwwwwaa!</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was haircut day as our boys looked like nobody cared about them.  They hate getting their hair cut.  Mason is not as bad and he looks the shaggiest.  Here are their before and after.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHaDCOBobbI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/fkK6K5RdNWw/s1600-h/pre+haircut.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHaDCOBobbI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/fkK6K5RdNWw/s400/pre+haircut.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221504892130586034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;BEFORE&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHaFy9MVaGI/AAAAAAAAAK4/e6_4xxVIjgA/s1600-h/post+haircut.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHaFy9MVaGI/AAAAAAAAAK4/e6_4xxVIjgA/s400/post+haircut.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221507928448919650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style=""&gt;AFTER&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHaGGZ_rUDI/AAAAAAAAALA/LzpM3HbCwp8/s1600-h/pre+haircut.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHaGGZ_rUDI/AAAAAAAAALA/LzpM3HbCwp8/s400/pre+haircut.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221508262597972018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BEFORE(blurry because he wouldn't hold still)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHaDCi0KM8I/AAAAAAAAAKo/GnCxzt_HbfI/s1600-h/post+haircut.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHaDCi0KM8I/AAAAAAAAAKo/GnCxzt_HbfI/s400/post+haircut.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221504897711223746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;AFTER&lt;br /&gt;I didn't realize how much the boys look alike until their haircuts were the same.  I really do like Jaxon with longer hair, but it is summer and it will grow back.  He, however, hates it.  He screams when I show him his haircut.  He says that he wants it back.  I tried to tell him that it will grow back, but he doesn't believe me.&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/6514522334328681200-7897272875684473463?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/7897272875684473463/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=7897272875684473463' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/7897272875684473463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/7897272875684473463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2008/07/ooooowwwwwaa.html' title='Ooooowwwwwaa!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHaDCOBobbI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/fkK6K5RdNWw/s72-c/pre+haircut.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-7516263106986206470</id><published>2008-07-09T16:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-10T16:16:20.658-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My little thorny rose!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHVIEorHy3I/AAAAAAAAAKI/05hUdW8raLs/s1600-h/Sid.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHVIEorHy3I/AAAAAAAAAKI/05hUdW8raLs/s400/Sid.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5221158587480918898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I have this beautiful rose that I love the smell of so much, the problem is that it is very thorny and I find that very irritating sometimes.  Sometimes I get such pleasure from it's beauty and other times I struggle to see past the thorns to it's beauty.  I am trying to learn how to prune the thorns without marring it's aroma.  I have sent this beauty to Canada to one who is a much better qualified gardener than I.  I am at the point where I am totally frustrated and wanting to prune it back totally, which I know would in all likelyhood cause it to stop thriving.  I am hoping that this experienced gardener can give this rose the attention that it needs while I take a break to brush up on my gardening skills and pay attention to the other plants that need my attention.  I have noticed that I tend to spend more of my time and attention on the rose and the other plants don't get as much of my time.  It will be nice to have a couple of weeks to spend on the rest.  I seems like the rose demands as much of my time as the rest of my garden all put together does.  The rose will be gone for 2 weeks on this adventure.  Maybe the cooler climate will be good for her.  I am hoping during this time that I can petition some insight from the Master Gardener on how to help this rose grow to it's full potential.  I know that I have the tools to help it grow or He wouldn't have given it to me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6514522334328681200-7516263106986206470?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/7516263106986206470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=7516263106986206470' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/7516263106986206470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/7516263106986206470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2008/07/my-little-thorny-rose.html' title='My little thorny rose!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHVIEorHy3I/AAAAAAAAAKI/05hUdW8raLs/s72-c/Sid.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-928052988165446950</id><published>2008-07-07T17:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-07T17:43:03.082-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jaxon on the 4th!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHK3AS4Lo7I/AAAAAAAAAJo/yVFWVmtEFqQ/s1600-h/train.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHK3AS4Lo7I/AAAAAAAAAJo/yVFWVmtEFqQ/s400/train.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5220436133771191218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Jaxon and I picked up Seth Clark after our BBQ at the Smith's.  We went home and then down to the neighborhood BBQ because they had stuff going on.  Cherokee Street is the happening place after all.  Jaxon and Seth were quite excited to see this little train going around.  It was a golf cart pulling some garden carts that had some seat belts put in them to make them safe for the kids.  They had a blast and didn't want to stop riding.  They rode 3 times and whined whenever it stopped and they had to get out.  It was good fun.  We watched some fire works after it got dark.  The loud ones scared Jaxon and he begged to go home, so home we went.  We popped some popcorn after we got some jammies on and the boys watched "3 Ninjas".  It was a full day for ones so little, but a good one.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6514522334328681200-928052988165446950?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/928052988165446950/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=928052988165446950' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/928052988165446950'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/928052988165446950'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2008/07/jaxon-on-4th.html' title='Jaxon on the 4th!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHK3AS4Lo7I/AAAAAAAAAJo/yVFWVmtEFqQ/s72-c/train.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-5606567827426298646</id><published>2008-07-06T08:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-07T17:30:35.176-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm having a blast Mom!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Mason got to go to Idaho with Luke and Erick last Wednesday.  I half expected a call from Erick a few minutes after they left because Mason didn't look to sure about going.  He called at midnight when he got there and hasn't called since.  We have had to call him.  He has been having a blast.  I knew that once he got there and got busy that he would be fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHDgc8rDIAI/AAAAAAAAAJg/GeWneXX8p-g/s1600-h/hull%2Bmason.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHDgc8rDIAI/AAAAAAAAAJg/GeWneXX8p-g/s400/hull%2Bmason.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219918756050051074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Hull made him one of the family and he has fit right in even though he looks a little different. Can you pick him out of the crowd?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHDgcpShkGI/AAAAAAAAAJY/ekO3liNGVUI/s1600-h/luke+and+mason.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHDgcpShkGI/AAAAAAAAAJY/ekO3liNGVUI/s400/luke+and+mason.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219918750846914658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love this picture of the boys, whom Tami said have been so busy that it was hard to get them to hold still.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHDgcVpPryI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/shlWsjBVlaE/s1600-h/catching+the+chicken.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHDgcVpPryI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/shlWsjBVlaE/s400/catching+the+chicken.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219918745573502754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They went to an annual chicken chase on the 4th.  I thought Mason would have been afraid as he is my more timid child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHDgcIbECiI/AAAAAAAAAJI/at9lIcpMTcs/s1600-h/chicken+caught.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHDgcIbECiI/AAAAAAAAAJI/at9lIcpMTcs/s400/chicken+caught.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219918742024358434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Look what I caught Mom.  Can I bring him home?  His name is Fireball and I love him so much"!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is what no looks like. I knew that this was his face&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHDgb91zPmI/AAAAAAAAAJA/Yu14_iQMBuc/s1600-h/no+chicken.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHDgb91zPmI/AAAAAAAAAJA/Yu14_iQMBuc/s400/no+chicken.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219918739183713890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; before I ever saw the picture because I could hear it on the phone. He will be home tonight. I am glad that he had fun, but I miss my little buddy boy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6514522334328681200-5606567827426298646?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/5606567827426298646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=5606567827426298646' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/5606567827426298646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/5606567827426298646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2008/07/im-having-blast-mom.html' title='I&apos;m having a blast Mom!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHDgc8rDIAI/AAAAAAAAAJg/GeWneXX8p-g/s72-c/hull%2Bmason.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-5870013931001116860</id><published>2008-07-01T10:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-01T12:18:31.524-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Finally!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SGpmRFTxP7I/AAAAAAAAAHo/F0F1AYNz2jo/s1600-h/bike+box+side.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SGpmRFTxP7I/AAAAAAAAAHo/F0F1AYNz2jo/s400/bike+box+side.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218095561931046834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I awoke this morning to a migraine. Luckily the girls were at sleepovers and the boys were all asleep. Quiet helps. Susan brought me some Lortab and that has taken the edge off enough that I was able to get up when my doorbell rang. This is what was on my doorstep. I didn't sign for it. The Fedex man just left it there. I debated whether or not I should go back to bed or put the bike together. Since the doorbell also woke the boys up and Raven had just come home, I knew that I couldn't lay on my bed in silence anymore so I chose to put the bike together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SGpoc-zJQNI/AAAAAAAAAH4/ZJ04OU91tEI/s1600-h/unassembled+bike.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 393px; height: 307px;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SGpoc-zJQNI/AAAAAAAAAH4/ZJ04OU91tEI/s400/unassembled+bike.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218097965365280978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There weren't quite as many pieces as Steve's.  I once again pulled out the scissors, tape and glue and began to put it together.  Mason and Luke helped me this time so it didn't take as long as Steve's.  I was disappointed to find out that I have to put air in the tires.  You think that they could have at least thrown in a can of compressed air for me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SGpoXX0mNuI/AAAAAAAAAHw/z4HKkUwvv3U/s1600-h/assembled+bike.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SGpoXX0mNuI/AAAAAAAAAHw/z4HKkUwvv3U/s400/assembled+bike.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5218097869003044578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is the final product.  If you look closely you can see a little bit of the tape that I used near the back wheel hub.  I didn't disguise it as well this time.  If you want a cruiser yourself, check out this link.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="www.bikebuyers.com/beachcruiser-classic.htm"&gt;http://www.bikebuyers.com/beachcruiser-classic.htm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="" com="" htm=""&gt;&lt;/div&gt;They have the best selection and prices.  I even bought the wrong size bike the first time and they refunded my money instantly with no problem.  I give them 2 thumbs up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6514522334328681200-5870013931001116860?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/5870013931001116860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=5870013931001116860' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/5870013931001116860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/5870013931001116860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2008/07/finally.html' title='Finally!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SGpmRFTxP7I/AAAAAAAAAHo/F0F1AYNz2jo/s72-c/bike+box+side.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-7984094267315644001</id><published>2008-06-30T13:07:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-30T13:37:53.223-07:00</updated><title type='text'>See what a little tape can do!</title><content type='html'>The much anticipated arrival of Steve's Falcon GT Cruiser happened today.  We knew that we would have to put it together ourselves, but weren't too sure how much we would have to put on.  This is what it looked like when it arrived.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SGlAjKleBqI/AAAAAAAAAHI/alcgHf3lrIU/s1600-h/bike+box.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SGlAjKleBqI/AAAAAAAAAHI/alcgHf3lrIU/s400/bike+box.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217772616166540962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I proceeded to take it out of the box to see how many pieces there were and how much work that it would take to put it together.  This is what greeted me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SGlBdZHrSgI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/TbXaLrIxomU/s1600-h/unassembled+bike.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SGlBdZHrSgI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/TbXaLrIxomU/s400/unassembled+bike.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217773616500525570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pulled out my tape, glue and stapler, all the necessary household items for assembling things and got to work.  After some well placed gluing and taping this is what we ended up with.  You be the judge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SGlC2I72gKI/AAAAAAAAAHY/4yLGT6gsElk/s1600-h/finished+bike.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SGlC2I72gKI/AAAAAAAAAHY/4yLGT6gsElk/s400/finished+bike.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5217775141164318882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isn't it amazing what a little glue can do.  Steve asked if it was safe.  I told him that there was only one way to find out.  I wonder if he will trust me after his test drive? :)&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/6514522334328681200-7984094267315644001?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/7984094267315644001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=7984094267315644001' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/7984094267315644001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/7984094267315644001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2008/06/see-what-little-tape-can-do.html' title='See what a little tape can do!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SGlAjKleBqI/AAAAAAAAAHI/alcgHf3lrIU/s72-c/bike+box.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-7073298534684989650</id><published>2008-06-30T07:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-30T08:02:22.202-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's get Wet!</title><content type='html'>I was given a stake assignment for our Stake youth conference.  I love the youth and gladly accepted.  I was put on the Music and Entertainment committee.  Anyone who knows me knows how much I love to play.  When I got to my first committee meeting I was excited to see my friend Amy Pratt there.  She also love to have fun!  We were put in charge of the water olympics.  There were a lot of things that the youth wanted to do.  We were able to combine a lot of things and came up with 5 events. &lt;br /&gt;1.  The shaving cream shoot off.&lt;br /&gt;2.  The back to back water balloon carry.&lt;br /&gt;3.  The sponge toss&lt;br /&gt;4.  The slip and slide.&lt;br /&gt;5.  The water balloon grab obstacle course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a tie breaker we had a tug of war over a pool.  I knew that the slip and slide would be a big hit, but it seems that they were all enjoyed by the youth.  There was a massive shaving cream fight in the end.  I think that the youth had fun.  Our kids had fun trying things out.  I got to test out the slip and slide.  Let me just say, WWHHHEEEE!!!  I am hoping to get some pictures of the events and post them.  We had a lot of fun doing this and seeing our ideas come to fruition was gratifying.  It was also wonderful to get to interact with the youth of our stake.  Amy and I think that we should have a neighborhood slip and slide.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6514522334328681200-7073298534684989650?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/7073298534684989650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=7073298534684989650' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/7073298534684989650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/7073298534684989650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2008/06/lets-get-wet.html' title='Let&apos;s get Wet!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-5924287825953449665</id><published>2008-06-30T07:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-30T07:49:16.643-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And yet another split!</title><content type='html'>I received a call Saturday afternoon saying that we would only be meeting for sacrament on Sunday and to pass the word on.  That got the ward buzzing.  It meant that our ward was going to split.  I had just gotten back from Stake Youth conference where I was transporting kids and Amy Pratt and I did the Water Olympics (another blog story).  I was trying to wrap my brain around who the new bishop would be and what our ward name would be.  We did know that Steve was not in the bishopric.  This was cause for a moment of relief as we know that members of the bishopric are extremely busy with the ward.  For this they have our deepest gratitude.  It was also cause for sadness as some of my good friends  would be in the other ward.  It was going to be a bittersweet split.  At the same time it is not like we live miles apart and will never see each other.   After an hour of singing hymns because the Stake Presidency was detained with another ward split, we are now Kiowa Valley 2nd ward.  We ended up with about 15 more households and 35 more dependents.  This is the 3rd split and 4th bishop that we have had since moving to Eagle Mountain.  There is still construction going on so it is safe to say that it will not be the last.  Now there will be sitting room in Relief Society, if I get to go.  I was sustained as Stake Young Women Athletic director yesterday.  The Stake Young Women's presidency tried to tell me that I would be safe from any calling.  We shall see.  There will be a lot of callings issued over the next several weeks.  It will be nice to have a more manageable ward.  I along with some of my friends are awaiting the day when the ward will not split so that we will be more stable and can get to better know those in our ward.  Who knows when that will be.  The next split for us will probably be a stake split.  We have a while before that happens.  I am grateful for the split now because I am hoping that Jaxon will be able to be more comfortable when it is time to go to Primary in January.  We will be meeting at 1 pm for the rest of the year.  Our new bishop is the oldest bishop that we have had since moving out here.  He is probably in his 40's.  Weird to have one older than me.  His name is Kevin Gourtzen.  His first counsellor is Jeff Stanworth and second is Andrew Jensen.  I wrote in my journal that I would not be surprised if Stanworth and Jensen were in there.  They are good men with integrity and families who support them.  I am excited for this change.  Our bishop has only been in the ward for a couple months.  I look forward to having the opportunity to receive my own confirmation of his new calling.  It is a good chance to teach our children about sustaining our leaders and all that that entails.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6514522334328681200-5924287825953449665?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/5924287825953449665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=5924287825953449665' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/5924287825953449665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/5924287825953449665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2008/06/and-yet-another-split.html' title='And yet another split!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-5794593986450386445</id><published>2008-06-26T15:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-04T07:36:53.678-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Mosaic!</title><content type='html'>I saw the mosaic on Jill's blog and thought that I would give it a try.   The pictures relate to the following questions.&lt;br /&gt;1. What is your first name? &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;DeLana&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;2. What is your favorite food? &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Thai chicken pasta from Cheesecake Factory&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;3. What high school did you go to? &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Nechako Valley Secondary School&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;4. What is your favorite color? &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Saffron orange&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Who is your celebrity crush?&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Hugh Jackman&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Favorite drink?  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mojitos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Dream vacation?  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Greece&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Favorite dessert?  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Creme brulee&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. What you want to be when you grow up?  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Restauranteur&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. What do you love most in life?  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Freedom, but no picture came up, so friends&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. One word to describe you.  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Optimistic&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. Your flicker name.  &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mean mommy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SGQfWHrOgkI/AAAAAAAAAG8/zUHZgnR4_oc/s1600-h/mosaic3054156.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SGQfWHrOgkI/AAAAAAAAAG8/zUHZgnR4_oc/s400/mosaic3054156.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216328733279814210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ellen_siska/175968328/"&gt;Kevin &amp;amp; Delana Harvick&lt;/a&gt;, 2. &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/gamany/374644394/"&gt;thai chicken pasta&lt;/a&gt;, 3. &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/retiredwindowwasher/584235756/"&gt;BC Vanderhoof Flood&lt;/a&gt;, 4. &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/rnewton/719453477/"&gt;Saffron Sulfur Blue&lt;/a&gt;, 5. &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/96714870@N00/292906123/"&gt;OUT17292538&lt;/a&gt;, 6. &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/eatzybitzy/133477968/"&gt;Mojito Power&lt;/a&gt;, 7. &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/marko-kosovcevic/512002355/"&gt;A witness of time&lt;/a&gt;, 8. &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/baostar/2238364952/"&gt;day 58: creme brulee&lt;/a&gt;, 9. &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/theshanghaieye/2036544629/"&gt;Mr. Vongerichten&lt;/a&gt;, 10. &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/walkaboutwolf/63452603/"&gt;Call of the Raven (formerly Nature's Special Effects)&lt;/a&gt;, 11. &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/rammorrison/424514983/"&gt;half Empty or half Full?&lt;/a&gt;, 12. &lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/minnette/2374373651/"&gt;90.365 / Darth Mommy&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you want to do one of these, follow these steps:&lt;br /&gt;1. Type your answer to each of the above questions into &lt;a href="http://www.flickersearch.com"&gt;www.flickersearch.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Using only the first page pick an image&lt;br /&gt;3. Copy and paste each URL for the images into &lt;a href="http://www.bighugelabs.com/flickr/mosaic/php"&gt;www.bighugelabs.com/flickr/mosaic/php&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Right click on the created image and copy it to your desk top, then copy it to your post.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6514522334328681200-5794593986450386445?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/5794593986450386445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=5794593986450386445' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/5794593986450386445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/5794593986450386445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2008/06/mosaic.html' title='Mosaic!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SGQfWHrOgkI/AAAAAAAAAG8/zUHZgnR4_oc/s72-c/mosaic3054156.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-4779046677836856846</id><published>2008-06-26T14:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-26T14:19:12.874-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I ride my bike......</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SGQG9H4M8II/AAAAAAAAAG0/VqE5TXWx9e8/s1600-h/tahiti-24-saffron.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SGQG9H4M8II/AAAAAAAAAG0/VqE5TXWx9e8/s400/tahiti-24-saffron.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216301915558441090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Steve and I have decided that we wanted some beach cruiser bikes.  My friend bought one and after she let me ride it, I was totally addicted and needing my own.  After much searching and riding, I found what I wanted on the internet.  Steve got his off ebay and I got mine at bikebuyers.com.  If you want to go for a ride, give me a call and I would be happy to let you try it out or even tell  you what sites had the best deals.  It will be here Monday and I will post a picture of me on the bike when it gets here.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6514522334328681200-4779046677836856846?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/4779046677836856846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=4779046677836856846' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/4779046677836856846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/4779046677836856846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2008/06/i-ride-my-bike.html' title='I ride my bike......'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SGQG9H4M8II/AAAAAAAAAG0/VqE5TXWx9e8/s72-c/tahiti-24-saffron.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-4285754367128399810</id><published>2008-06-24T08:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-24T08:55:02.788-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Do they really exist?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SGEYI393gtI/AAAAAAAAAGM/RTgd0MzQhB8/s1600-h/Werewolf+Susan.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SGEYI393gtI/AAAAAAAAAGM/RTgd0MzQhB8/s400/Werewolf+Susan.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5215476384213205714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;At first I thought that I was having a dream involving one of Stephanie Meyers books, but I rubbed my eyes and looked again.  It was not a dream, it is in fact real, it wasn't from a book.  I always wondered what a werewolf's foot looked like.  Now I know.  Beware of nail salons because if they get the chance they will turn you into a were wolf too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6514522334328681200-4285754367128399810?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/4285754367128399810/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=4285754367128399810' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/4285754367128399810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/4285754367128399810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2008/06/do-they-really-exist.html' title='Do they really exist?'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SGEYI393gtI/AAAAAAAAAGM/RTgd0MzQhB8/s72-c/Werewolf+Susan.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-2897608807948628501</id><published>2008-06-18T09:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-18T09:30:34.347-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Courage</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SFk33tF9ZtI/AAAAAAAAAFY/ymFFgSG5yuQ/s1600-h/skydiving.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 290px; height: 221px;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SFk33tF9ZtI/AAAAAAAAAFY/ymFFgSG5yuQ/s400/skydiving.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213259473794983634" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;I am finding that as I get older that I have less courage to try new things.  I use to have so much courage and now it seems like a little bit runs away every day.  I will try new foods, new clothes, but not new adventures.  I am all about my kids trying new things, but I can't seem to find where I left my courage to do it myself.  I have been cleaning my house to see if I can find where I have misplaced it.  I really began to miss it when I was watching Mason jump over a bike jump.  He showed no fear.  He knew that he wanted to jump his bike off the ramp and did it.  Then he decided that the first jump was not big enough and asked his dad to put the bigger one out for him.  The whole time I was wishing that I could find my courage.  I used to want to jump from a plane with a parachute on, to hang glide off the point of the mountain, scuba dive, get my pilots license and a bunch of others.  I just have one request.  If I happen to have left my courage at your house would you let me know and I will come and pick it up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6514522334328681200-2897608807948628501?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/2897608807948628501/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=2897608807948628501' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/2897608807948628501'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/2897608807948628501'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2008/06/courage.html' title='Courage'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SFk33tF9ZtI/AAAAAAAAAFY/ymFFgSG5yuQ/s72-c/skydiving.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-2437713257822622392</id><published>2008-06-14T11:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-14T11:31:12.899-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ain't that sweet......?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SFQL9ezeadI/AAAAAAAAAFI/mH7r3TqcyGU/s1600-h/campfire.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 362px; height: 240px;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SFQL9ezeadI/AAAAAAAAAFI/mH7r3TqcyGU/s400/campfire.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211803819643398610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love the trips down memory lane that occur with my friends.  Jill triggered some for me with her blog about drive-ins.  I must say that I had never been to one until I went to Ricks College.  They were fun.  I must admit though that I am a fire bug.  I absolutely love campfires.  I have been anxiously awaiting a calm night so that we could pull out the fire bowl, but alas, it has been very windy when it has not been raining.  It has me pretty bummed.  I remember camping with my family and Mom always getting the fire going.  Ah, the tin foil dinners, breakfast in a bag, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;s'mores&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, banana boats, and cake in an orange.  Those were the days.  I was fortunate to marry a fire bug, so he also has an affinity for fires.  I also love the way that my clothes smell after being around a campfire.  I must admit that I hate to wash the smell out.  My reasoning is that it keeps the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;mosquitoes&lt;/span&gt; away.  I am one of those people who could camp for a week before I feel the need to wash the smell off.   As long as I can brush my teeth, I am good.  I also prefer to camp in a tent.  I am all about bringing in as little as possible and hauling it all out.  I love the sound of the crickets and watching the stars.  I hope to instill in my kids the same love for camping.  Anyone want to come with?  Or in the mean time, come on over I have the making for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;s'mores&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; and we can always take out the projector and pretend that we are at the drive-in.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6514522334328681200-2437713257822622392?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/2437713257822622392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=2437713257822622392' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/2437713257822622392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/2437713257822622392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2008/06/aint-that-sweet.html' title='Ain&apos;t that sweet......?'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SFQL9ezeadI/AAAAAAAAAFI/mH7r3TqcyGU/s72-c/campfire.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-6801148675586192488</id><published>2008-06-12T17:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-12T17:58:47.211-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And the winner is......</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SFHEw5FNLGI/AAAAAAAAAFA/1mZ3RMi0rIQ/s1600-h/PED+sbpic2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211162588079795298" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SFHEw5FNLGI/AAAAAAAAAFA/1mZ3RMi0rIQ/s400/PED+sbpic2.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I must say that the softball bug has never let go and I am back in full swing.  I played 6 games last week, plus one basketball game.  We won the tournament that we were in.  It was a lot of fun, except when I crashed into the third baseman when both of us were going for a foul ball.  That left me with a bad headache, but didn't stop me from playing.  I played catcher for most of the games.  I figure that I must have done about 200+ squats over the course of all the games.  I wasn't near as sore as I thought that I would be.  I laughed when they handed out the medals.  They gave us the 3rd place medals by mistake.  Oh, well.  The huge trophy more than made up for it.  I may not be as quick as I used to be but I sure still do love the game.&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/6514522334328681200-6801148675586192488?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/6801148675586192488/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=6801148675586192488' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/6801148675586192488'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/6801148675586192488'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2008/06/and-winner-is.html' title='And the winner is......'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SFHEw5FNLGI/AAAAAAAAAFA/1mZ3RMi0rIQ/s72-c/PED+sbpic2.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-418370620939633598</id><published>2008-05-27T08:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-27T08:20:52.370-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Awesome!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SDwmWD49MgI/AAAAAAAAAEo/K-ogfHLeTGE/s1600-h/twilight.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SDwmWD49MgI/AAAAAAAAAEo/K-ogfHLeTGE/s400/twilight.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5205077429776626178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;We went with Steve's family to Midway for the long weekend.  I borrowed the Twilight series from my friend.  I figured that I had the time to read so I may as well see what everyone was talking about.  After 3 very late nights I finished all 3 books.  They were great.  I really like Stephenie Meyer's style of writing.  I could imagine everything as I read the words.  I found myself cheering for Jacob in the New Moon.  I love how she manages to be able to leave some things to your imagination.  After staying away because it seemed like a trendy thing, I have given in and am waiting for the final book.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6514522334328681200-418370620939633598?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/418370620939633598/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=418370620939633598' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/418370620939633598'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/418370620939633598'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2008/05/awesome.html' title='Awesome!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SDwmWD49MgI/AAAAAAAAAEo/K-ogfHLeTGE/s72-c/twilight.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-6607369767890761899</id><published>2008-05-18T15:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-18T15:11:28.770-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I love to garden</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SDCpfXXct7I/AAAAAAAAAEg/7_qaljIP5L4/s1600-h/CIMG0080.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SDCpfXXct7I/AAAAAAAAAEg/7_qaljIP5L4/s400/CIMG0080.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201843925926328242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SDCpUHXct6I/AAAAAAAAAEY/5Whm1t5AfOs/s1600-h/CIMG0081.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SDCpUHXct6I/AAAAAAAAAEY/5Whm1t5AfOs/s400/CIMG0081.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201843732652799906" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember hating being in the garden as a kid.  I also remember Mom telling me that one day I would love it because it was industrious.  My thought "Ya, right!  We'll just see about that now, won't we!" Well it has finally turned warm enough to plant our garden. So for family home evening we went to Wal Mart and Home Depot and picked out our plants. Mason wanted corn and Steve wanted radishes, so we have a row of both from seeds. We planted 5 serrano pepper plants, 2 early girl tomatoes, 2 yellow tomatoes, 4 beefsteak tomatoes and 6 celebrity tomatoes. I want to get 3 grape roma tomatoes because Mason will keep one picked clean on his own and then the others for fresh salsa. We also planted 3 zucchini plants and 3 cilantro plants. I added 2 thyme plants to the already existing herb garden which is in full bloom and we want to add 6 - 10 more strawberry plants to our strawberry patch. We finally have a lilac bush that made it through the winter. Now if we can just keep the pesky weeds out of the garden and flower beds I will be happy. I'm hoping that the garden will help supplement the grocery budget over the summer. I have a couple of seed onions that I am thinking about planting. Now if we can also keep the kids and Max (dog) out of the garden maybe the plants will survive to produce food.  Thank heaven Mom made me stay out in the garden and learn to weed and plant.  Now it is my kids that whine about how boring it is.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6514522334328681200-6607369767890761899?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/6607369767890761899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=6607369767890761899' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/6607369767890761899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/6607369767890761899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2008/05/i-love-to-garden.html' title='I love to garden'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SDCpfXXct7I/AAAAAAAAAEg/7_qaljIP5L4/s72-c/CIMG0080.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-5672084000060884798</id><published>2008-05-11T19:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-11T19:46:23.938-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Mother's Day!</title><content type='html'>I was listening to the radio yesterday and thinking about what Mother's Day really means.  More particularly about what my mom means to me.  A song by Jamie O'Neal entitled "Somebody's Hero" came on.  It seemed to fit my feelings about my mom perfectly and needless to say, I was crying by the end.  So I will share the words with you!  Now I wish I just new how to add the actual song to this posting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;She's never pulled anyone from a burning building&lt;br /&gt;She's never rocked Central Park to a half a million fans, screaming out her name&lt;br /&gt;She's never hit a shot to win the game&lt;br /&gt;She's never left her footprints on the moon&lt;br /&gt;She's never made a solo hot air balloon ride, around the world,&lt;br /&gt;No, she's just your everyday average girl (but)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;She's somebody's hero&lt;br /&gt;A hero to her baby with a skinned up knee&lt;br /&gt;A little kiss is all she needs&lt;br /&gt;The keeper of the cheerios&lt;br /&gt;The voice that brings Snow White to life&lt;br /&gt;Bedtime stories every night&lt;br /&gt;And that smile lets her know&lt;br /&gt;She's somebody's hero&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;She didn't get a check every week like a nine-to fiver&lt;br /&gt;But she's been a waiter, and a cook and a taxi driver&lt;br /&gt;For twenty years, there at home, until the day her girl was grown&lt;br /&gt;Giving all her love to her was her life's ambition&lt;br /&gt;But now her baby's movin' on, and she'll soon be missin' her&lt;br /&gt;But not today, those are tears of joy runnin' down her face&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;She's somebody's hero&lt;br /&gt;A hero to her daughter in her wedding dress&lt;br /&gt;She gave her wings to leave the nest&lt;br /&gt;It hurts to let her baby go down the aisle she walks right by&lt;br /&gt;Looks back into her mother's eyes&lt;br /&gt;And that smile lets her know&lt;br /&gt;She's somebody's hero&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;Thirty years have flown right past&lt;br /&gt;Her daughters' starin' at all the photographs&lt;br /&gt;Of her mother, and she wishes she could be like that&lt;br /&gt;Oh, but she already is&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 10pt;"&gt;She's somebody's hero&lt;br /&gt;A hero to her mother in a rockin' chair&lt;br /&gt;She runs a brush through her silver hair&lt;br /&gt;The envy of the nursing home&lt;br /&gt;She drops by every afternoon&lt;br /&gt;Feeds her mama with a spoon&lt;br /&gt;And that smile lets her know&lt;br /&gt;Her mother's smile lets her know&lt;br /&gt;She's somebody's hero&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6514522334328681200-5672084000060884798?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/5672084000060884798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=5672084000060884798' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/5672084000060884798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/5672084000060884798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2008/05/happy-mothers-day.html' title='Happy Mother&apos;s Day!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-9215295854728175005</id><published>2008-05-11T11:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-11T19:41:32.043-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ouch!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SCeuInXct4I/AAAAAAAAAEE/-tkVMGuwZo4/s1600-h/St.+George+002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SCeuInXct4I/AAAAAAAAAEE/-tkVMGuwZo4/s400/St.+George+002.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5199315757852047234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Steve had shoulder surgery this past Wednesday.  The doctor thought that it would take about an hour and a half.  It ended up taking over 3 hours because the damage was much worse than he had anticipated.  Then it was another 3 hours in recovery before they would let him go.  He came home with a funky looking cooling unit on his shoulder.  I think that it was to help keep the swelling down.  He is very sore and healing will be slow.  Much to his dismay, the doctor told me that he absolutely cannot do any karate for the rest of the year.  We thought he might be back at it in some way by August so Steve is quite disappointed.  Even with all the pain he is being quite nice and gracious for all that I have to do for him.  I think he is smiling because the percocet has finally kicked in!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6514522334328681200-9215295854728175005?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/9215295854728175005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=9215295854728175005' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/9215295854728175005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/9215295854728175005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2008/05/ouch.html' title='Ouch!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SCeuInXct4I/AAAAAAAAAEE/-tkVMGuwZo4/s72-c/St.+George+002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-7177033059756325418</id><published>2008-05-05T11:13:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-05T11:15:38.611-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Anniversary!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SB9Ob58cVCI/AAAAAAAAAD8/6Xzp5rQzfhk/s1600-h/St.+George+023.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SB9Ob58cVCI/AAAAAAAAAD8/6Xzp5rQzfhk/s400/St.+George+023.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196958736326612002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While Steve was gone to St. George this last weekend, I decided to surprise him by making over our bedroom. It is something that we have been talking about for awhile and have just run out of time. He is having shoulder surgery on Wednesday and will not be able to paint or move things for awhile after that so I thought that I would do it as an early anniversary present. I consulted with my personal interior designer, Jill Clark, and we cranked it out over the weekend. Thanks so much Jill!!! Steve wanted a cabana room so we (Jill and I) talked about all the options and came up with something that is relaxing and appealing. I could just sit and look at it all day. The picture does not do the colors justice.  I just hope that Steve likes it as much as I do.  I think that he does because he calls it his James Bond room.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6514522334328681200-7177033059756325418?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/7177033059756325418/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=7177033059756325418' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/7177033059756325418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/7177033059756325418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2008/05/happy-anniversary.html' title='Happy Anniversary!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SB9Ob58cVCI/AAAAAAAAAD8/6Xzp5rQzfhk/s72-c/St.+George+023.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-3028433252737729560</id><published>2008-04-27T21:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-27T21:55:01.499-07:00</updated><title type='text'>At Last!</title><content type='html'>We have had some major issues with our computer.  Several virus episodes.  After the last one we had it totally wiped clean and reinstalled, plus we added Norton Internet Security.  Now I can blog all that I want.  Steve and I bought some guns.  I am going to get my concealed permit.  I want to do it before the next election because I think that it is a possibility to have the chance to get one after that taken away, plus with the world going down the crapper I want to be able to defend myself and my family.  We went and shot them Saturday night.  It was fun.  Afterwards I broke down the gun, cleaned it and put it back together without Steve touching it.  Can we saw AWESOME!!!  He did talk me through the process however.  It was a good date night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6514522334328681200-3028433252737729560?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/3028433252737729560/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=3028433252737729560' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/3028433252737729560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/3028433252737729560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2008/04/at-last.html' title='At Last!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-75640894189506695</id><published>2008-04-10T12:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-10T12:09:22.690-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Can we say ow?</title><content type='html'>I put the girls' bunk beds together the other day, by myself, so it took most of the day.  Yesterday and today my hamstrings are so sore that it hurts to sit.  Jaxon took a run at my legs and I about crumbled because they hurt so bad.  Am I woose or what?  But hey, the beds are together and now I can move on to other spring cleaning.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6514522334328681200-75640894189506695?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/75640894189506695/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=75640894189506695' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/75640894189506695'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/75640894189506695'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2008/04/can-we-say-ow.html' title='Can we say ow?'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-2219166800707822818</id><published>2008-04-10T11:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-10T11:34:11.493-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Subbing is great!</title><content type='html'>I get to substitute teach at my daughters' school at least once a week.  I love it.  My favorite place is in the Junior high.  These are the kids that I coach soccer for.  I've also subbed in 1st, 3rd, 4th, and 5th grade, plus for the drama teacher.  I love spending time with these kids, but don't think that I could do it every day for an entire school year.  Thus I will stick to the subbing and not have to be there everything&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6514522334328681200-2219166800707822818?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/2219166800707822818/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=2219166800707822818' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/2219166800707822818'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/2219166800707822818'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2008/04/subbing-is-great.html' title='Subbing is great!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-5077419974319847987</id><published>2008-04-08T18:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-08T18:28:45.895-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Destroyed!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/R_wbnN1K_OI/AAAAAAAAADs/45zg8QPaRZk/s1600-h/sucky+soccer.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5187051231365496034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 241px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 208px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="129" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/R_wbnN1K_OI/AAAAAAAAADs/45zg8QPaRZk/s400/sucky+soccer.jpg" width="153" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am the assistant soccer coach at Lakeview Academy. Until today, my team hadn't lost a game. Today my team lost 3 - 0. They just had no heart or energy. They pretty much defeated themselves. I tried to talk them up, but it didn't take. They were demoralized after one goal against them. It was hard to see them this way. I felt like a helpless parent on the sidelines. The above picture pretty much shows how I am sure that they felt.  Nothing like taking one in the face.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6514522334328681200-5077419974319847987?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/5077419974319847987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=5077419974319847987' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/5077419974319847987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/5077419974319847987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2008/04/destroyed.html' title='Destroyed!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/R_wbnN1K_OI/AAAAAAAAADs/45zg8QPaRZk/s72-c/sucky+soccer.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-4946816131785162776</id><published>2008-04-08T14:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-08T14:54:16.476-07:00</updated><title type='text'>I detest the snow!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/R_vo6N1K_NI/AAAAAAAAADk/U8q95vCWwBU/s1600-h/Winter.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186995482689993938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/R_vo6N1K_NI/AAAAAAAAADk/U8q95vCWwBU/s400/Winter.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I thought that spring had sprung.  My rhubarb is sprouting out of the ground as well as some of my herbs and also my strawberries.  Then 2 days ago, it snowed and then it snowed again yesterday off and on all day.  I want to plant my garden and start reaping the benefits of my diligent work.  This snow stuff is for the birds, and to think that I grew up in it.  Give me the nice sandy beaches, sunshine and sound of the ocean any day!&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/6514522334328681200-4946816131785162776?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/4946816131785162776/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=4946816131785162776' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/4946816131785162776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/4946816131785162776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2008/04/i-detest-snow.html' title='I detest the snow!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/R_vo6N1K_NI/AAAAAAAAADk/U8q95vCWwBU/s72-c/Winter.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514522334328681200.post-5752214612367830699</id><published>2008-04-06T21:49:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-06T22:29:06.203-07:00</updated><title type='text'>All mine!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/R_mqNd1K_MI/AAAAAAAAADc/YSGKPpprRac/s1600-h/crazy+lady.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5186363594216504514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 218px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 218px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="130" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/R_mqNd1K_MI/AAAAAAAAADc/YSGKPpprRac/s320/crazy+lady.jpg" width="178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided that it was time for me to have a blog that was all mine. One that I can put whatever background, picture or music on. Also one that if I screw it up, it won't lose all of the family stuff. I figure that this blog will let me vent, cry, whine, and maybe even uplift myself and others who choose to read it. I chose the title from a commercial I saw seeing as a teenager. I remember thinking that I wished there really was a place like on that commercial that I could escape when times are tough, or when I felt that I couldn't burden others with what I needed to let out. So I guess that all in all I am hoping that this will be some type of therapy for me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6514522334328681200-5752214612367830699?l=imameanmommy.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/feeds/5752214612367830699/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6514522334328681200&amp;postID=5752214612367830699' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/5752214612367830699'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6514522334328681200/posts/default/5752214612367830699'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://imameanmommy.blogspot.com/2008/04/all-mine.html' title='All mine!'/><author><name>DeLana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/03327962383816115602</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='21' height='32' src='http://bp1.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/SHknvCnKkxI/AAAAAAAAANA/AFw9UddZR84/S220/wonder+woman.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_XXCcyS3wXcw/R_mqNd1K_MI/AAAAAAAAADc/YSGKPpprRac/s72-c/crazy+lady.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
