<?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-2464173481696689303</id><updated>2012-01-01T21:08:05.027-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Blue Tassel</title><subtitle type='html'>This is a blog to remind me of who God is, what He has done, how He has blessed me, and to otherwise "remember all the Lord's commands and obey them" (Numbers 15:37-41).</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>54</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-4821226930710484777</id><published>2011-12-31T20:30:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-31T20:30:02.498-05:00</updated><title type='text'>From The Chaplain's Wife</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;b&gt;3. HOW&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/z0Dg-InE8VQ" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span&gt;Higher Ways&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;b&gt;   &lt;/b&gt;By: Steven Curtis Chapman&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;If I could only fly&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;I'd go up and look down from the sky&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;So I could see the bigger picture&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;And Lord if I could sit with You&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;At Your feet for an hour or two&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;I'm sure I'd ask too many questions&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;'Cause there's so much going on down here&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;That I must confess I just don't understand&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;I don't understand&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;BRIDGE&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;But I have prayed&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;And at your feet my whole life has been laid&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;So I won’t worry I won’t be afraid&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;'Cause my soul is resting on Your higher ways&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;So let the road ahead become unclear&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;For I am Yours so what have I to fear&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;If my soul is resting on Your higher ways&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;CHORUS&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;Your higher ways teach me to trust You&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;Your higher ways are not like mine&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;Your higher ways are the ways of the Father&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;Hiding His children in His love&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;BRIDGE&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;So let it rain&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;And if my eyes grow dim with tears of pain&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;This hope I have will not be washed away&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;'Cause my soul is resting on Your higher ways&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;CHORUS&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;Someday I will fly and&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;Maybe then You will take me aside&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;And show me the bigger picture&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;But until I'm with You&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;I'll be here with a heart that is true&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;And a soul that's resting on&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;Your higher ways&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;I am a planner.  I am the type of personality who likes to know what’s coming.  I like to have a plan that I am working on and toward.  Please do not confuse that with my being a Dreamer.  I am not a dreamer.  I do not look way out in the future and think of all the things that might happen.  I look a little ways out into the future and chart a realistic course toward a realistic goal that is fully attainable from what I can tell.  That being said, there is a lot about life that totally doesn’t make sense.  What was the point in my having been severely burned at the age of twelve?  What has been the point of a severe lack of income for our family the past several years?  Why was a friend’s husband killed and left to raise three young children on her own?  There are so many questions and circumstances that we run into everyday in life that don’t make sense.  How are we to make it through life without stressing out constantly?  How can I, specifically, live my life filled with peace and hope when so much of it is painful and a struggle and may not seem to make much sense? &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;It would be so nice to be able every once in awhile to look down from the sky and see the bigger picture, to see where this insanity and pain and monotony fits in to what God is doing.  See, we know that God is doing something good with all this, but just what is it?  There are so many questions that could be asked of God if we were given the opportunity to get a little clarity on the bigger picture.  But we are not given that opportunity.  So now what?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;Trust.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;We have been given the Bible.  The Bible is filled with promises given to us by God.  We are told in Isaiah 55:8-9 “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways,” declares that Lord. “For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways, and My thoughts than your thoughts.”  We simply cannot comprehend the mind of God.  The best ideas we can come up with as to how something should or could or might or will work out is but a tiny drop in the bucket of the plans God has laid out from before time began.  And we are told in Romans 8:28 “And we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose.”    So we know that somehow He is going to make it all be good in the end.  In the end, it comes down to trust.  Do I choose to trust God and take Him at His Word?  Or do I choose to ignore His Word and try to figure it all out on my own? &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;The peace that passes understanding that we always hear Christian leaders talking about comes when we choose to trust God and rest in His promises.  As the song above says, when at His feet your whole life has been laid, then your soul is able to find rest in Him and in the higher ways that He has planned that we will probably never be able to see or comprehend.  At that point, when the road ahead is unclear and life is clouded by pain and unanswered questions, we can still rest in Him and His ways and His love, and still be filled with hope – the expectation of that which is to come – eternity with Jesus free from pain.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;My husband and I are finding that peace and hope that comes only in resting in the Father.  When you get married, it is so easy to find your joy and peace and hope in your spouse, rather than in the Lord.  Through the past 15 or so months we have been apart so much that we are unable to rely so fully on the other person for our joy and peace and hope.  My husband is not here for me to turn to when the good or the bad comes along.  If I am to have any sort of joy or peace or hope, I have to find it at the feet of the Father.  And we are finding that the peace, joy and hope we found in one another was so incomplete!  It was just a shadow of what we are finding now when we have no real choice but to turn to God!  And to think that this, too, on this side of eternity, is still but a shadow of what will come!  Incomprehensible Joy and Peace!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2464173481696689303-4821226930710484777?l=bluetassel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/4821226930710484777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=4821226930710484777' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/4821226930710484777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/4821226930710484777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2011/12/from-chaplains-wife_31.html' title='From The Chaplain&apos;s Wife'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/z0Dg-InE8VQ/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-3018513014771050516</id><published>2011-12-30T20:30:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-30T20:30:01.484-05:00</updated><title type='text'>From The Chaplain's Wife</title><content type='html'>&lt;span&gt;&lt;b&gt;2. HOW&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/0iI_Axe7KJg" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; text-align: -webkit-auto; "&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; text-align: -webkit-auto; "&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;b&gt;What Kind of Joy&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;i&gt;   &lt;/i&gt;By: Steven Curtis Chapman&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Anybody in their right mind&lt;br /&gt;Would've given up their preaching and headed for home&lt;br /&gt;They've been warned a hundred times&lt;br /&gt;But something inside them keeps giving them hope&lt;br /&gt;And just when you think they'd be crying&lt;br /&gt;Instead of the tears, there's joy in their eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus 1:]&lt;br /&gt;What kind of joy is this&lt;br /&gt;That counts it a blessing to suffer&lt;br /&gt;What kind of joy is this&lt;br /&gt;That gives the prisoner his song&lt;br /&gt;What kind of joy could stare death in the face&lt;br /&gt;And see it as sweet victory&lt;br /&gt;This is the joy of a soul that's forgiven and free&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anybody else with his pain&lt;br /&gt;Would want to shake their fist at heaven&lt;br /&gt;And give up the fight&lt;br /&gt;'Cause trouble had been Paul's middle name&lt;br /&gt;Ever since he'd been captured by God's blinding light&lt;br /&gt;But just when his hope should be dying&lt;br /&gt;If you listen you'll hear him singing a song&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus 1]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus 2:]&lt;br /&gt;What kind of joy is this&lt;br /&gt;The Father has promised his children&lt;br /&gt;What kind of joy is this&lt;br /&gt;That Jesus has come to reveal&lt;br /&gt;What kind of joy could give hope in this world&lt;br /&gt;To someone just like you and me&lt;br /&gt;This is the joy of a soul that's forgiven and free&lt;br /&gt;I've found this joy for my soul is forgiven and free&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;How?  How do we do it?  How do we handle the difficulties and the separations?  How do we handle not seeing or touching or talking for weeks and months on end?  And how do we continue to be joyful through it all?  Joy is a topic that my husband and I have been talking about for months – since at least March, maybe even longer.  It has constantly seemed to creep up into our conversations and emails.  There is so much pain in the military -  the busy schedules, the separations ranging from 3 months to even up to 18 months at a time in the Army, so I’ve heard, the drinking, the death, the divorce rate, etc.  How can we find joy?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Because we are forgiven and free!  Because of Jesus!  For my husband, ministering within the confines of the military can often be tricky dodging the political correctness, etc.  And for many people, those minefields of political correctness are enough reason to high tail it in the other direction.  But God constantly brings men and women into his life and through his office doors who are in need of what only Jesus can offer – forgiveness!  Not every conversation heads specifically in that direction, but there are constantly seeds being planted whether those men and women realize it or not.  And that is a cause for joy! &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;As for me, I am the wife who gets left behind to hold down the fort and raise four children under the age of eight while being pregnant with number five.  Why don’t I turn tail and run?  Why don’t I gripe and moan and complain?  It’s hard!  I have a right to whine, don’t I?  But why should I?  My husband was gone from mid-August 2010 to early November 2010 – and I moved us from Florida to North Carolina by myself during that time.  Then he was in the field for training the last two plus weeks of January 2011.  And then he was out in California for more training from the last week of March through the first week of May 2011.  And now he’s been gone to Afghanistan since about mid-June.  That’s a lot of being gone – can I have a pity party now?  No!  I am filled with joy and expectation!  Has the last fifteen months or so been a piece of cake?  No, I have had my bad days or weeks.  The initial adjustment to this new normal took several months longer than transitions for me usually do.  But this time around I have had a peace about where we are both at in life right now so that I can’t deny God’s hand in it all.  I am learning things and being given opportunities to talk with women that I never would have had or taken because of this time in our lives.  I am seeing God work in my life and my husband's life and the kids’ lives.  I am learning to lean on God.  I am learning to ask for and receive help from others!  Yet, I am also learning the benefits of having a stubborn and independent spirit, too!  Did I mention I am learning to lean on and trust in God?  As joy-filled as life has been, it has been some of the most difficult times of life, too, and I have had to learn a level of trust in Him that I haven’t seen the need for previously.  Having been severely burned as a child, I am acquainted with pain and grief and loneliness, and though I was able to find a level of joy and trust through that time, it pales in comparison to now.  God is faithful!  His Word is Truth!  I have a lot to learn, yet, in this Christian walk through life, but I wouldn’t trade these difficult times for anything.  I can look back on my accident as a child and see growth and protection through that time, and even now through this current time of life I can already see growth and protection.  I should be crying and depressed right now, but I am not.  I am forgiven and free and held in the arms of my Savior and that is such a joy-filled place to be that I cannot even express it!  Honestly, I don’t know that I really understand it.  I want to grab it and hold on tight, but it is elusive.  It must just be accepted, I guess, with the release of the anxiety of life.  Thank you, Jesus! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2464173481696689303-3018513014771050516?l=bluetassel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/3018513014771050516/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=3018513014771050516' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/3018513014771050516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/3018513014771050516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2011/12/from-chaplains-wife_30.html' title='From The Chaplain&apos;s Wife'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/0iI_Axe7KJg/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-2509663312824976307</id><published>2011-12-29T20:39:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-29T21:29:55.358-05:00</updated><title type='text'>From The Chaplain's Wife</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;&lt;span&gt;1. WHY&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;iframe width="420" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/ZCvfXuHgXUk" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen=""&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="text-align: -webkit-auto; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;b&gt;For the Sake of the Call&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;   By: Steven Curtis Chapman&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Nobody stood and applauded them&lt;br /&gt;So they knew from the start&lt;br /&gt;This road would not lead to fame&lt;br /&gt;All they really knew for sure was Jesus had called to them&lt;br /&gt;He said "Come follow me" and they came&lt;br /&gt;With reckless abandon they came&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 11pt; line-height: 17px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;Empty nets lying there at the water’s edge&lt;br /&gt;Told a story that few could believe and none could explain&lt;br /&gt;How some crazy fishermen agreed to go where Jesus lead&lt;br /&gt;With no thought for what they would gain&lt;br /&gt;For Jesus had called them by name and they answered&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;[Chorus:]&lt;br /&gt;We will abandon it all for the sake of the call&lt;br /&gt;No other reason at all but the sake of the call&lt;br /&gt;Wholly devoted to live and to die&lt;br /&gt;For the sake of the call&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Drawn like the rivers are drawn to the sea&lt;br /&gt;No turning back for the water cannot help but flow&lt;br /&gt;Once we hear the Savior's call we'll follow wherever he leads&lt;br /&gt;Because of the love He has shown&lt;br /&gt;And because he has called us to go we will answer&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We will abandon it all for the sake of the call&lt;br /&gt;No other reason at all but the sake of the call&lt;br /&gt;Wholly devoted to live and to die&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Bridge:]&lt;br /&gt;Not for the sake of a creed or a cause&lt;br /&gt;Not for a dream or a promise&lt;br /&gt;Simply because it is Jesus who calls&lt;br /&gt;And if we believe we'll obey&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[Chorus]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;Why?  That is the big question.  Why did my husband become a Chaplain rather than a pastor?  Why would he leave a decent paying job at Target with the potential to go far within the company and just have a part-time position at a church somewhere?  Why would we settle for a job where he has the potential to be away from the family for so much of our lives, and even a potential to be killed?  Why when there are other ways of making a living?  Why head toward the military when very few people – family or friends – really supported our decision?  And why did I not stop him?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;As the song states – it was for the sake of the call.  My husband graduated with his M.Div. in May of 2008, if I remember my dates correctly.  He had been putting out applications all over the country for full-time pastorate positions and earlier that semester we had moved to Florida pursuing what we thought was going to turn into a full-time position.  That fell through and he continued to send out hundreds of applications.  Basically, the two requirements for full-time pastoral ministry at that time were 1) have at least 5-10 years of experience and 2) be willing to serve full-time for about $18,000 per year.  With a brand new degree and three children under age four, we couldn’t pass either requirement.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;At some point after moving to Florida he was hired by Target and throughout the next year or so of employment he did well and was rising through the ranks with a good future ahead of him.  He was also serving as Associate Pastor at a local church, unpaid, with as much time as he was able.  One problem with all this: even though we were able to pay our bills (a very important thing for my sanity), neither of us was truly content with where our life was at. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;And then one of us had the idea of the military – my husband says it was me.  I have no clue who it was.  If it was me, it just proves that is even more of a God-thing to even consider heading in that direction because after having gone to a predominately military college as a civilian student, I had become pretty much dead set against being married to someone in the military.  Not going to happen!  But regardless of whose idea it was, we both began praying about and researching this possibility.  We both felt God leading us in this direction.  Looking at the requirements, both spoken and unspoken, it seemed as though we were tailor-made for this pursuit.  And for the first time in quite a while, we both had an excitement and a peace about a ministry direction. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;I knew that there would be resistance to us pursuing this direction.  There was no one standing and applauding us, as the song says, as we went through the application process – just doubters and naysayers.  Road blocks were often met with smiles and laughter on their part, and more determination and prayer on our part.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; text-align: -webkit-auto; font-size: medium; "&gt;&lt;p style="margin-top: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; "&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18px; "&gt;But I also knew, beyond a doubt, that we were headed in the right direction.  We had finally found our place in where to serve God.  I cannot even begin to explain the peace I had over my husband going through the whole, long, drawn-out application process.  It was a completely different experience from what ministry and the pursuit of ministry had been for the previous two or three years, at least.  For the first time we were completely united in the pursuit of the call of Christ.  Previously one or the other of us just felt uncomfortable with where we were at without ever really knowing or understanding why.  But now we have found something that we can honestly say we are pursuing until they kick us out!  Who knows what exactly the future will bring or what it will look like, but he has the potential to put in about 30 years with the military and so that is what we are pursuing for our future serving the Lord.  Oh, the peace that passes understanding!  Thank you, Jesus!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2464173481696689303-2509663312824976307?l=bluetassel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/2509663312824976307/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=2509663312824976307' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/2509663312824976307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/2509663312824976307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2011/12/from-chaplains-wife.html' title='From The Chaplain&apos;s Wife'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://img.youtube.com/vi/ZCvfXuHgXUk/default.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-6654661618665848129</id><published>2011-12-19T08:45:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-19T09:21:47.001-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Why I Haven't Posted . . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZnQ2MG9uJqM/Tu9FmvKMe8I/AAAAAAAAAh0/ZU-K8x_J97s/s1600/Bethany%2B39w3d.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 199px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZnQ2MG9uJqM/Tu9FmvKMe8I/AAAAAAAAAh0/ZU-K8x_J97s/s320/Bethany%2B39w3d.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5687841386188798914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Life has been crazy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NOE2n_1wnwM/Tu9FgQm_-jI/AAAAAAAAAho/Et71WeqaD4Q/s1600/33w5d.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 210px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NOE2n_1wnwM/Tu9FgQm_-jI/AAAAAAAAAho/Et71WeqaD4Q/s320/33w5d.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5687841274908899890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;lt;- Rebekah at 33 weeks 5 days&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And for contrast, Bethany at&lt;br /&gt;39 weeks 3 days -------------&amp;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;I'm a bit pregnant - and not really due any time soon.  This was  taken Saturday at almost 34 weeks.  I still have 6 weeks left until my  due date.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I usually go late by about 6 days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had the best of intentions to post my series before I left for Florida for Thanksgiving.  Obviously that didn't happen, and since I've been back the pregnancy has definitely taken it's toll on me.  Everything is taking infinitely longer to do and hurts a whole lot more.  Ah, such is life.  What we do for our little ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyways, life is painful, but very good.  We are looking forward to Christmas in a week, seeing daddy in a few weeks and Rebekah a few weeks after that!  God is very good!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2464173481696689303-6654661618665848129?l=bluetassel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/6654661618665848129/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=6654661618665848129' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/6654661618665848129'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/6654661618665848129'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2011/12/why-i-havent-posted.html' title='Why I Haven&apos;t Posted . . .'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ZnQ2MG9uJqM/Tu9FmvKMe8I/AAAAAAAAAh0/ZU-K8x_J97s/s72-c/Bethany%2B39w3d.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-1841635545290842491</id><published>2011-11-19T19:59:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-19T20:23:08.394-05:00</updated><title type='text'>From The Chaplain's Wife</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana; line-height: 18px; "&gt;I am the wife of a Chaplain in the United States Navy who is currently serving with the United States Marines in Afghanistan.  &lt;a href="http://www.chaplaincarson.com/"&gt;He has a blog&lt;/a&gt; in which he chronicles, as much as he is able, some of his journey through life as a chaplain.  This is my blog in which I am very hit or miss simply chronicling my life, mostly as a mother, actually mostly the lives of our children.  I think I have posted once on my husband's blog, and very rarely do I mention on this blog how anything with the Chaplaincy affects me.  That is partly because one of the main reasons I started my blog was simply as a way to let family know through pictures and some text what was going on with the kids since, at the time, we were living away from both sides of the family.  The blog wasn't so much about Philip and I.  Grandparents want to know about the grandkids!  Not their kids!  LOL!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"&gt;A couple weeks ago I was driving home from my parents' cabin with all four kids in the back of the van.  I spent most of the trip with the IPod coming through the speakers set to just randomly play through my Christian music.  An hour or two from home a song by Steven Curtis Chapman came on and it got me thinking about my life in general, but specifically about the last two years.  It got me thinking about where we are today and what brought us to this point.  The song finished, but I needed to hear it again so I flipped the IPod to the Steven Curtis Chapman CD and began listening to it again.  I was lost in thought when the song finished and the next song, randomly selected from within the CD, began.  Another song totally relating to our journey toward and in the Chaplaincy, as well as a topic both of us have been contemplating and discussing for months both before and during this current deployment!  Not surprisingly, the third randomly selected song from his CD was also quite a propos to the situation, as well.  My brain was turning a mile a minute!  At that point, for a reason quite unknown to me now, I had to pull off the highway for a stop - gas, food bathroom, discipline?  Who knows.  Who really cares?  Anyhow, when we got back on the highway, I don't know if I even turned any music back on immediately - I had so much going through my mind.  Already I was thinking I ought to blog my thoughts.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"&gt;&lt;span class="Apple-style-span" style="line-height: 18px;"&gt;Over the past two years, Philip and I have gotten many questions and many confused looks, and many people who have known us before we headed in this direction didn't really seem to support or agree with our decision.  This post is the beginning of a short series I want to do on our journey in the Chaplaincy from my perspective - the why's and how's and how are we doing.&lt;/span&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/2464173481696689303-1841635545290842491?l=bluetassel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/1841635545290842491/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=1841635545290842491' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/1841635545290842491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/1841635545290842491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2011/11/from-chaplains-wife.html' title='From The Chaplain&apos;s Wife'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-9133018479527513507</id><published>2011-11-19T19:54:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-19T19:59:13.334-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Series I Promised . . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="Apple-style-span"  &gt;will begin tonight.  Hopefully I can figure out exactly how to do what I want to do.  I am not very smart when it comes to maintaining a blog.  That is why I use blogger rather than creating my own blog with it's own domain name.  Because blogger is pretty intuitive for a slowpoke like me.  Maybe someday Philip will create (and thus help to maintain) my own blog.  Or maybe not.  Since I can't seem to stay on top of blogging regularly.  Either way.  For now - this one works, and I WILL make it do what I want it to do!!  Hmmm.  Where is that &lt;i&gt;Help&lt;/i&gt; link . . .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2464173481696689303-9133018479527513507?l=bluetassel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/9133018479527513507/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=9133018479527513507' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/9133018479527513507'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/9133018479527513507'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2011/11/series-i-promised.html' title='The Series I Promised . . .'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-7810458842610631865</id><published>2011-10-25T19:22:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-25T19:50:19.866-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Few Favorites</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;First, I have to start with Bethany.  She's definitely a favorite, but she is actually modeling a favorite meal.  This is one of very few meals, apart from Pizza, that all four kids actually enjoy: Chicken and Dumplings!  Yummy!!  I think Bethany even ate more than Aiden - which says a lot!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;And isn't she just too cute!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qAwtxiDS_D8/TqdT2c_EcyI/AAAAAAAAAhE/TvxFBt3GOAY/s1600/Dinner%2B1.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qAwtxiDS_D8/TqdT2c_EcyI/AAAAAAAAAhE/TvxFBt3GOAY/s320/Dinner%2B1.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5667590851027825442" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Just trying to get that yummy food to stay on the spoon is a task..not to mention getting as much as possible actually to one's mouth!  (I don't think the entire spoonful &lt;i&gt;ever&lt;/i&gt; made it to her mouth tonight!)&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yyH9z4HOexU/TqdT1lkH0aI/AAAAAAAAAg8/JzTJOEh0oyk/s1600/Dinner%2B2.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-yyH9z4HOexU/TqdT1lkH0aI/AAAAAAAAAg8/JzTJOEh0oyk/s320/Dinner%2B2.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5667590836150849954" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And another favorite that I cannot believe has taken me four kids and seven and a half years to purchase is a sweeper.  I honestly have no idea if that's what it's really called, but that's what we call it.  It cost me $20, I think, and can be up right like the picture, or take the handle off to make it shorter, and you can take the bottom off to make it a dust buster.  And it only weighs about six pounds so all the kids can use it easily!  Such a lightweight tool to have all three older kids learning how to vacuum (without using the regular vacuum which has to weigh at least 50 pounds, it seems) and take more responsibility for keeping the house clean.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bG268-OVk4c/TqdT1TuCqLI/AAAAAAAAAgs/ekWU6eoZkNA/s1600/Sweeper.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-bG268-OVk4c/TqdT1TuCqLI/AAAAAAAAAgs/ekWU6eoZkNA/s320/Sweeper.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5667590831360616626" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Tristan, by far the least experienced, has the chore of vacuuming the dining room and kitchen after breakfast.  Mikayla, an okay sweeper, has the chore of vacuuming the two rooms after lunch.  And Aiden, who does a pretty good job with it, vacuums after dinner.  So by the evening, both rooms are in pretty good shape.  It's amazing how much nastiness is on these floors after any given meal.  Ugh!  I would seriously recommend that anyone with at least one kid or animal get one of these things!  They aren't that expensive and are so simple and quick to use on a regular basis.  Easier and more thorough, I believe, than a regular broom, and so much lighter and easier than a normal vacuum.  Definitely a new favorite cleaning friend of mine.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Another new favorite of mine does not come with a picture.  My absolute (I think) most hated job when it comes to cleaning my house is showers/baths.  I HATE cleaning them.  I would do a houseful of windows and toilets before cleaning one shower.  I just hate the mess, getting wet, the reaching and stretching, the soap scum that never seems to want to come off.  Not.  Fun.  At. All.  This past week, though, I got the breakthrough idea (at least for me - I'm slow sometimes) to bring my cleaning supplies into the shower with me when I took a shower.  I was already going to be wet and right there up close and personal to the scum, so may as well try to scrub it off.  Oh, so much easier!  I have my water supply right there and I don't have to keep turning it off and on, or worry about water going down my arms and getting me and my shirt wet, or getting water all outside the shower/tub area.  Why did it take me how many years now of cleaning my own bathrooms to figure this out!?!?  Don't get me wrong.  I still don't know that I &lt;i&gt;enjoy&lt;/i&gt; cleaning a shower, but it's infinitely better than the old way.  I guess I'll have to start taking a shower every once in awhile in the kids bathroom, too though, so their's gets cleaned sometimes, as well.  Such are the sacrifices.  But like I said, it's better than the old way.  :-)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Okay, that's enough favorites, at least for now.  Keep an eye on the blog, though.  I have a short series coming that I will begin posting shortly. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2464173481696689303-7810458842610631865?l=bluetassel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/7810458842610631865/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=7810458842610631865' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/7810458842610631865'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/7810458842610631865'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2011/10/few-favorites.html' title='A Few Favorites'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qAwtxiDS_D8/TqdT2c_EcyI/AAAAAAAAAhE/TvxFBt3GOAY/s72-c/Dinner%2B1.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-8465830371061976967</id><published>2011-09-08T19:33:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-09-08T20:02:32.124-05:00</updated><title type='text'>So I Want to Post . . .</title><content type='html'>But I have no idea what to write about.  No, I have not forgotten about you blogger world.  I just don't know what to say.  Life is crazy, but that is nothing new.  We have been in school for nearly a month now and finally my kids seem to have settled in - in spite of disruptions from a hurricane.  We made it through the hurricane just fine and it was a great time spent in Raleigh at Grandmommy's house!  Some unexpected Grandmommy lovin'!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aiden and Tristan are having a blast with karate and finally got their white belts yesterday so they really feel official now!  You have to have taken at least five classes before you get your beginning white belt put on.  Mikayla is absolutely loving ballet and every spare moment at home is spent showing one or the other of us what she does in class.  Bethany is sooo wanting to be in ballet like her big sister, but she is content so far with the answer that she has to be a couple years older first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are meeting our neighbors and enjoying life on base, as opposed to in the city.  Life in base housing may be a tighter fit in our house, but it's much more "Life in the Fifties" relaxed than anything I've seen wherever I've lived before.  Still hanging out with some incredible Christian friends we've made out in town, too, though!  Such a blessing there!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In a couple days I will be halfway through this pregnancy and Philip will be about halfway through his deployment.  Both are delightful milestones!  I thank the Lord daily (sometime by the minute!) for a pregnancy in which the nausea was essentially gone by week 14 or so (the last three lasted until 18-20 wks).  Makes taking care of the other four much easier when I'm not in bed for most of the day.  I also thank the Lord daily (or by the minute) for His incredible grace with the deployment, too.    Life with a deployed husband is so much easier when you know beyond the shadow of a doubt that you are each where the Lord wants you for this season!!  Do I suffer loneliness?  Yes.  Do I miss our daily talks?  Yes.  Do I miss being able to bounce ideas and questions off him?  Yes.  Do I miss his help with the kids and house and everything else in life?  Yes.  I could go on and on.  But His Grace is sufficient!!!  I am learning things with him gone for about seven months that I would &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;never&lt;/span&gt; learn with him here.  Like how to take a breath when the kids drive me bonkers rather than just scream at them.  With Philip around, it's like I can scream at them now and Philip will make it up to them later because he's so gracious or more patient or fun or somethings.  I don't know.  Awful, but true.  Lessons Mommy NEEDS to learn.  Or how to let Aiden or Mikayla take on some responsibility even if whatever it is doesn't exactly get done perfectly and/or my way.  Normally I would drag Philip in somehow to help even though the kids are perfectly capable of doing some of it themselves.  I just want it done MY way and perfectly.  Perfect can't happen when you are trying to train kids.  They.  Are.  Kids.  Easier said than lived out for me.  Did I mention that God is good and His Grace is sufficient?  Granted with my independent, control-freak, I-can-do-it-myself personality it may actually take a whole lot more of His sufficient Grace on the other end once Philip comes home . . . we'll see.  :-)  I have heard that reintegration can be, um, interesting.  We shall see. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I think that's our life in a nutshell.  Sorry about no pictures.  I sent my camera with Philip to Afghanistan and I don't have my new one, yet (hopefully next week!?!?) and I hate attaching my phone to my computer to download those pictures because Verizon has made it so much more complicated than it used to be.  Maybe next time.  :-P&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2464173481696689303-8465830371061976967?l=bluetassel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/8465830371061976967/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=8465830371061976967' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/8465830371061976967'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/8465830371061976967'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2011/09/so-i-want-to-post.html' title='So I Want to Post . . .'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-2449084110142778066</id><published>2011-08-16T19:31:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2011-08-16T19:58:03.096-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Is Summer Really Over Already????</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KlOYr_EktaM/TksMgUopz9I/AAAAAAAAAgA/RNYANa08jdM/s1600/Schoolroom%2B2011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 181px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KlOYr_EktaM/TksMgUopz9I/AAAAAAAAAgA/RNYANa08jdM/s320/Schoolroom%2B2011.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5641616707646246866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For better or worse, the schoolroom says so.  And I guess it's really more of a school "area" than a room since this is set up in a long room that has this on one end, the dining room on the other end and a play area in the middle.    On the right side of the room is my desk - barely (you can see my chair which is all the way under the desk).  On the left side of the picture you can just barely see the entrance to the living room.  In case you were comparing this picture to the picture from the last post, yes, they are different rooms.  After Philip deployed the kids and I were able to move into base housing so it's a new house for us!  Smaller, but just about perfect in size as far as I'm concerned.  And back to the schoolroom - it's been very conducive to schooling, as well.  More so than the last house which was bigger over all.  We do a lot of work together (with all four kids around) with me reading and asking questions.  In this house, I can sit comfortably in the living room to read to the kids and they can either sit in the living room with me or sit right near by at the school table and color and still be able to hear just as easily.  I like it! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two days in with lots of new curriculum changes from last year, and so far it seems to be better choices.  We'll see as time goes on.  We are still in the transition stage from summer to school, though I have to say that our summer was really a non-summer.  It's been a crazy summer.  And no, I don't plan to go into to details, but suffice it to say that it finally settled down and began to feel like summer with lazy days, beach days, pool days, playground days, picnics, whatever, about August 1, which was supposed to be my start date for school.  I could not do it.  The kids and I needed at least a couple weeks to play summer.  It was only two weeks, but it was fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far schoolwork is finishing a little later in the day than I had planned which makes for a couple busy days, but our day this year is much more liberally spaced out with playtimes and snack time for the kids.  And a couple subjects are taking longer than I planned because we get in to some great conversations based off what we are studying.  I can't tell you how God has worked out our curriculum - half of which is completely unrelated to any of the rest - and it overlaps so well!  For example, we talked about God being spirit, and us being created with spirits in Bible this morning (which was a fun conversation!) and then spirits comes up in history and another subject (can't remember which one) later in the day.  Lots of good questions being brought up by the kids, which leads to good conversations - both of which rarely happened last year. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We started Mikayla in ballet and the boys in karate (thankfully the same class), so our weeks are busy, but they are so enjoying their classes!  I think it's really good for Mikayla to be doing something completely her own, too.  So often, being just 15 months younger than Aiden, they end up being together - which they absolutely love, but still, she's her own person.  And for Tristan to actually get to do something with Aiden, who is almost exactly 3 years older than him (and at 4 and 7 that's a huge gap) is so special and exciting for him.  He often gets left behind the older two, yet he so wants to hang out with them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is good.  God is great!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hopefully it won't be nearly four months before the next post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, I am going to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2464173481696689303-2449084110142778066?l=bluetassel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/2449084110142778066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=2449084110142778066' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/2449084110142778066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/2449084110142778066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2011/08/is-summer-really-over-already.html' title='Is Summer Really Over Already????'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KlOYr_EktaM/TksMgUopz9I/AAAAAAAAAgA/RNYANa08jdM/s72-c/Schoolroom%2B2011.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-4586129556956056028</id><published>2011-04-21T22:18:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2011-04-21T22:30:29.085-05:00</updated><title type='text'>You know you're a homeschool mom when . . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6eFtQGqDJto/TbDztNTty4I/AAAAAAAAAf0/TEIe6sWCct4/s1600/Multi-tasking.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6eFtQGqDJto/TbDztNTty4I/AAAAAAAAAf0/TEIe6sWCct4/s320/Multi-tasking.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598242294813543298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...you realize during math class that there is entirely too many things going on at once.  We have mommy (and her coffee!) teaching in seat 1 (because she is number 1, of course), Aiden working on the math page in one seat, Mikayla working on the same math page next to another seat (she often prefers standing during school), Tristan doing his school work (pre-school book practicing his colors, cutting and pasting - fun stuff!), and Bethany and mommy (and sometimes Aiden or Mikayla) playing tea party with Bethany at the same time.  Notice the tea cups and play food all over the table mixed in with school supplies.  And, yes, I use the large math notebooks as a divider between the two older kids.  Someone who shall remain nameless for now, but who is sitting on the left side of the table gets a wee bit competitive when it comes to doing schoolwork, which often will frustrate Mikayla who learns and works differently.  Gotta love it.  I need desks to put on opposite sides of the room or something.  Even Bethany is in on the learning these days.  Over the past few weeks she has just randomly started spouting out numbers.  Her current favorite that seems to be said more than the others is "ninety-six."  Go figure - what 22 month old picks up the number 96?  Maybe six or nine, but 96?  Silly girl!  So a picture in the life of this homeschooling mommy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2464173481696689303-4586129556956056028?l=bluetassel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/4586129556956056028/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=4586129556956056028' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/4586129556956056028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/4586129556956056028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2011/04/you-know-youre-homeschool-mom-when.html' title='You know you&apos;re a homeschool mom when . . .'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6eFtQGqDJto/TbDztNTty4I/AAAAAAAAAf0/TEIe6sWCct4/s72-c/Multi-tasking.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-6325487888303528236</id><published>2011-04-14T15:23:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2011-04-14T18:11:34.578-05:00</updated><title type='text'>You know it's a good day when . . .</title><content type='html'>(in no particular order except the last - it's the best!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. It's  your birthday&lt;br /&gt;2. You can sleep in an hour&lt;br /&gt;3. Your kids actually  remember it's your birthday and wish you "Happy Birthday" at breakfast&lt;br /&gt;4. One kid  (Aiden) actually thinks to make you a card on his own&lt;br /&gt;5. Said kid  convinces his younger brother (Tristan) to sing "Happy Birthday" with  him as he gives you aforementioned card&lt;br /&gt;6. Another kid (Mikayla)  sees siblings giving card and makes her own card to give&lt;br /&gt;7. All kids,  without prompting, are being extra kind and giving to one another and  mommy&lt;br /&gt;8. There's a fun Easter egg hunt to attend for a couple hours in the  morning&lt;br /&gt;9. All kids, without prompting, share their yummy snacks  (candy, sugar cookies, peanut butter cookies) at the egg hunt with mommy&lt;br /&gt;10.  Air conditioner, which has been struggling and/or broken for several  weeks, get fixed as soon as we get home from the egg hunt&lt;br /&gt;11. Last half  of military pay from the first half of the month in deposited into  account since the budget is sort of being taken care of&lt;br /&gt;12. Tax  return is also deposited into account&lt;br /&gt;13. One credit card is finally paid off  since there was a tax return today&lt;br /&gt;14. My lawn was mowed for the first time this year&lt;br /&gt;15. Did I mention I have air  conditioning again? (my house has been sitting in the low 80's during  the day and I can't open the windows for long because my allergies have  been horrid this year)&lt;br /&gt;16. And, finally, I got a Bougainvillea Bonsai  delivered from my husband who couldn't be here today since he's playing  in the desert in California with his battalion right now!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();}  catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zPo-O0rtH7c/TadbV2sjIRI/AAAAAAAAAfE/EmmEGXE9bKA/s1600/Birthday%2BBonsai.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();}  catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zPo-O0rtH7c/TadbV2sjIRI/AAAAAAAAAfE/EmmEGXE9bKA/s1600/Birthday%2BBonsai.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zPo-O0rtH7c/TadbV2sjIRI/AAAAAAAAAfE/EmmEGXE9bKA/s320/Birthday%2BBonsai.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5595541493048877330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And you know it must be a good day when I actually decide to take the time to update my blog - which hasn't been updated in a year . . . I know - you never thought it would actually happen.  Now to update a couple pictures of the kids.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2464173481696689303-6325487888303528236?l=bluetassel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/6325487888303528236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=6325487888303528236' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/6325487888303528236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/6325487888303528236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2011/04/you-know-its-good-day-when.html' title='You know it&apos;s a good day when . . .'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zPo-O0rtH7c/TadbV2sjIRI/AAAAAAAAAfE/EmmEGXE9bKA/s72-c/Birthday%2BBonsai.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-4115716024647024846</id><published>2010-04-26T19:47:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-26T19:59:41.488-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bethany Walking</title><content type='html'>Yup.  You read that right.  She's walking already.  She actually started walking April 15th as a late birthday present to me at just over 10 months, but I'm just a bit slow to actually take and post a video of it.  She's just too cute, if I do say so myself!  The doll she's carrying is Mikayla's, but I don't think Bethany has gone much of anywhere without it for the past couple of days.  Either that or a popple.  She's also gotten her top two teeth through in the past few days.  Thankfully not too much teething craziness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here's the video of her walking.  I apologize for it being sideways - I forgot that I don't have a video editor that will let me turn videos (that I know of, at least).  I also apologize for how loud the kids in the background are.  When she was walking and talking I didn't even notice it.  Gotta love motherhood!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-ae8c5a495e8e2194" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v24.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dae8c5a495e8e2194%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329958519%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D8578F896C92106D96A0DD9BF50CF1F5DBB8B2E8C.59B5FCFECFD3153D7D368F04BF2121D48B8E4183%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dae8c5a495e8e2194%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DVQUXhGIiSNNNZPaf51k-tXtS54g&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v24.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dae8c5a495e8e2194%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329958519%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D8578F896C92106D96A0DD9BF50CF1F5DBB8B2E8C.59B5FCFECFD3153D7D368F04BF2121D48B8E4183%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dae8c5a495e8e2194%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DVQUXhGIiSNNNZPaf51k-tXtS54g&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Tristan was little, as soon as music would come on he would start bouncing and dancing.  Well, Bethany not only will bounce and dance to music, she also sings:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-d58671445791fe40" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v2.nonxt6.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dd58671445791fe40%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329958519%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D39C638795282342DB1511988BAAD3872AA7CABCC.3E45433BC839FC4F8702A169EB42272917A31E40%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dd58671445791fe40%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D9eegWQs_sxuvXEOOdlrw7FNTtSo&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v2.nonxt6.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dd58671445791fe40%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329958519%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D39C638795282342DB1511988BAAD3872AA7CABCC.3E45433BC839FC4F8702A169EB42272917A31E40%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dd58671445791fe40%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D9eegWQs_sxuvXEOOdlrw7FNTtSo&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2464173481696689303-4115716024647024846?l=bluetassel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/4115716024647024846/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=4115716024647024846' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/4115716024647024846'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/4115716024647024846'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2010/04/bethany-walking.html' title='Bethany Walking'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-1918013615311715137</id><published>2010-04-23T14:22:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-23T21:57:41.087-05:00</updated><title type='text'>First Carson Home Church Service</title><content type='html'>So this post is about two weeks late.  It'll be two weeks ago this Monday when I tried to post the videos I took of the first Carson Home Church Service and couldn't even log in to blogger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Sunday afternoon April 11, Philip and I were just hanging out at our computers talking and half listening to the kids playing in the living room when we were invited to attend "a service" by Aiden and Mikayla.  His sermon(s) are a bit heretical, but it's adorable, and you can get an idea of some of what was discussed the week before in our homeschool Bible class and other conversations around the house.  This is posted in the order it was done for us - quite, ah, interesting!  Hope you enjoy!  (and I hope I can post it all - I took the video in a bunch of different sections because I kept thinking it was the end of the "service").&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Introduction&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-685ac74b28e04cc0" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" 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bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v16.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dac2d5346601d4724%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329958519%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D292C5DB606BF846A48B3539D5C097A72D92EB956.5827E0538520E2D4E820A914A198DD0C066E2958%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dac2d5346601d4724%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DtKx62ApAYgKIXo0SKLN0vPOHIIE&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Church Finances&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-3ef17e8f725bdb08" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param 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href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=1918013615311715137' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/1918013615311715137'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/1918013615311715137'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2010/04/first-carson-home-church-service.html' title='First Carson Home Church Service'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-1100360822614493097</id><published>2010-04-09T18:40:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-09T20:12:30.173-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Homeschool, Etc, Update</title><content type='html'>So I know I've been so bad about keeping this poor blog updated, but life has been crazy.   And just to warn you, this will be a long post, so grab a cup of coffee or tea and sit back and relax.  Hopefully life will settle down a bit now, but I'm not holding my breath.  I actually tried to update this once before, but of course I chose the one time that blogger was down and it wouldn't let me write a new post.  Ah, well.  I'm here now typing, so let's just get down to business!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday, March 15, was my first official day homeschooling.  Although I pulled Aiden out of the public school system, we chose to go ahead and leave Mikayla in her preschool program - 1) it's free (well, our taxes support it), 2) it's in a great private preschool being taught by wonderful ladies, and 3) Mikayla absolutely loves it.  So on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays I have to drop her off at school at 9:00am and pick her up by 2:00pm.  Not a big deal - except for that silly naptime I have set up for two of my kids.  Back to Day 1.  That first Monday (most, actually) Philip was still home and so I could just drop Mikayla off without toting three other kids along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My homeschool area is the roughly six by six foot area directly in front of the front door in my living room and I had been slowly getting a carpet, table, bookcase and books for when we were to begin.  When I walked in the door after dropping Mikayla off at school I was greeted by Aiden's hard work, as well, to bring in some aspects of what he had in his classroom at the public school:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/S7-8caerryI/AAAAAAAAAeE/R1a0BO6S9PM/s1600/Schoolroom+1a.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/S7-8caerryI/AAAAAAAAAeE/R1a0BO6S9PM/s320/Schoolroom+1a.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458288469726703394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Note the desk off to the side for the student who has been disobedient and needs to be separated from the rest of the class, and the pictures on the wall behind that separate desk and Aiden's seat.  He also had pulled out each of the three older kids' coloring boxes, little notebook and favorite coloring book or blank paper and placed it at each students chair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/S7-8dVHJAhI/AAAAAAAAAeM/qeCtlPDgftQ/s1600/Schoolroom+2a.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/S7-8dVHJAhI/AAAAAAAAAeM/qeCtlPDgftQ/s320/Schoolroom+2a.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458288485465653778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/S7-8ds8tuhI/AAAAAAAAAeU/jXJHLoLN73M/s1600/Schoolroom+3a.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/S7-8ds8tuhI/AAAAAAAAAeU/jXJHLoLN73M/s320/Schoolroom+3a.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458288491864373778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The kleenex and trashcan were also Aiden's addition, as every functioning classroom must have these two essentials.  I was remiss in some of my classroom set-up!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/S7-8dwSf2QI/AAAAAAAAAec/NYN6pKEzyjA/s1600/Schoolroom+4a.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/S7-8dwSf2QI/AAAAAAAAAec/NYN6pKEzyjA/s320/Schoolroom+4a.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458288492761045250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Needless to say, they were just a wee bit excited to begin homeschooling.  I have a daily and weekly schedule set up, and lesson plans made to finish Kindergarten by mid-summer-ish knowing that we would probably move faster than that.  By the end of the first week we were already weeks ahead, so I made a tentative decision to slow down a bit regardless of how much fun everyone was having.  Even Tristan has been sitting at the table for most of our sessions.  He just assumed that he was required to be there as well, and he seems to be getting quite a bit more than I was expecting him to understand.  I am not really teaching him to read, yet - two at once is more than enough for me! - but I would not be surprised if he was reading within the year.  I'm certainly not going to push him to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyways, I decided to slow us down a little, and then the Navy among a few other things decided to help me with that.  I have done so much running around and searching the internet and copying stuff and I don't remember what all else, but life's been crazy!  I'm hoping and praying that things will settle down a little bit now, though.  Philip, in theory, has done his last major thing for the Navy until his CARE Board.  That was initially scheduled for April 13, but due to other delightful circumstances which you can read about at his blog, which he did update today (link on the side), it has been postponed until May.  So, in theory, I won't have anything Navy related that "HAS to get done by noon today or we're in trouble" for another month at least.  Which is good because we've gotten so little schooling done that, though I'm not behind, I'm certainly not ahead anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for the schooling itself, Aiden is doing great with the reading.  I was really concerned back in February I think it was, when I sat down with him to have him read me a fairly simple book and virtually all he was doing was guessing at what the words were.  The school was supposedly teaching phonetically, but I guess with a class the size of Aiden's (20 or so), he just wasn't getting the phonics, just word recognition.  He still defaults to guessing once in a while, but almost always catches himself immediately and tries to sound the word out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mikayla's doing great, as well, but definitely doesn't learn quite the same way Aiden does.  The book I'm using has the kids just looking right in the book for the words and sentences, etc, they are to be reading and learning.  Aiden does just fine with it, whereas Mikayla gets totally distracted by all the other cute little letters on the page.  And boy was she getting frustrated!!  It only took me two lessons to try writing the words she was to sound out and such onto flashcards and we are having much more success and less tears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I'm typing here I'm remembering Aiden a year ago and realizing that some of what Mikayla is struggling with is almost certainly age-related (which I assumed, but didn't have "proof") because she is fifteen months younger.  A year or so ago, I remember having more issues with Aiden getting frustrated really quickly when he didn't get something immediately.  If Mikayla doesn't get it perfect and immediately she gets really upset and tries to give up.  As I mentioned, now that I'm typing I do remember Aiden acting very similarly about a year ago which is normal.  Everything for the past five years that Aiden has gone through, Mikayla seems to go through exactly one year later.  Which in a sense is nice because I'm close enough to Aiden's dealing with whatever that I usually don't get as frustrated and hopeless feeling because I remember vividly that I did get through it with Aiden so I'll get through it with Mikayla, as well.  No, I don't necessarily recommend having children really close together, but there are also some HUGE benefits to it if you do!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for the rest of our Kindergarten curriculum, we are doing math, handwriting and Bible.  All three kids are doing great with math and Bible, and the older two are doing great with handwriting.  I didn't get a handwriting book for Tristan, but I probably should have the way he is constantly trying to "write" his name and other letters.  He'll make one &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;really&lt;/span&gt; squiggly line and announce, "Look at my T!"  Too cute!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a lighter note, we try to do a family movie night once a week with the kids where we eat finger foods in the living room for dinner while enjoying a movie together.  Most of the time we (ummm, Philip) do (does) pretty good with picking out a movie everyone enjoys.  We know it was a great choice when the first thing that happens the next morning is the kids dress up and start acting out the movie.  Case in point, we watched &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Planet 51&lt;/span&gt; with the kids a couple weeks ago and the next morning Aiden walks out of his room after breakfast and responsibilities dressed as the astronaut Chuck Baker:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/S7_HeBwYY7I/AAAAAAAAAek/ORb9pufYoFQ/s1600/Aiden+Astronaut+2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/S7_HeBwYY7I/AAAAAAAAAek/ORb9pufYoFQ/s320/Aiden+Astronaut+2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458300592077693874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And because mommy pulled out the camera to take pictures, Mikayla had to go and get a princess dress on to be photographed with Aiden:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/S7_HesLxRtI/AAAAAAAAAes/huKaXw9PpXk/s1600/A+%26+M+12+Mar+2010.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/S7_HesLxRtI/AAAAAAAAAes/huKaXw9PpXk/s320/A+%26+M+12+Mar+2010.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5458300603466860242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Tristan is his own little man.  He loves playing and learning with his older brother and sister, he more than the other two, will just go off and play by himself, with his cars usually, for hours on end.  He just doesn't care about keeping up with others so much like Aiden and Mikayla are - he's so laid back.  It's very refreshing at times!  He loves being a big kid and doing school with those two, though!  Poop training is driving me bananas!!  He's been pee-trained for over a year now, but refused to go poop in the potty (don't you love reading a mom's blog).  What I wish I had tried and found out a year ago: if he's in a pull-up he goes potty in the toilet about half the time and never poop in the toilet.  If he's in underwear he always goes potty in the toilet (well, say ninety percent of the time - he's barely three), but never poop in the toilet.  If I make him go naked on his bottom half, he goes potty and poop in the toilet.  In the past week I've been able to let him go naked four or five days and every day we've had no accidents and poop in the potty every day.  So now I ask, how long will he have to been naked before pooping in the potty is habit?  Soon, please!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bethany is just a sweetie.  Talk about laid back!!  She never fusses - and I'm serious when I say never.  About a week ago, I gave in and called mom, not stressing, but looking for another brain to pick for ideas about why Bethany was screaming.  When I called mom Bethany had been fussing for about 15 minutes.  That's how little she ever cries.  Fifteen minutes and I'm calling for help because holding her and bouncing her and cuddling, etc, were not making a difference.  If she cries, especially if just picking her up for two minutes doesn't settle her right back down, I know something is really bothering her because she never cries.  Which is so wonderful - Thank You, Jesus! - because with a 6, almost 5 and 3 year old, the house is rarely quiet.  That night and a couple since it's been teething issues as far as I can figure.  One tooth up top finally broke through a couple days ago and number two up top is trying to.  So tylenol before bed and she's good to go.  She's starting to walk - when she feels like it.  It's still quicker to crawl, so she'll take six or eight fairly steady steps and then calmly lower herself to her knees and take off to whatever her destination happens to be.  In another post (hopefully tomorrow or Sunday) I will have some pictures of her and one of her favorite destinations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So in all, apart from Tristan's poop-training, I have the sweetest and smartest children in the world!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2464173481696689303-1100360822614493097?l=bluetassel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/1100360822614493097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=1100360822614493097' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/1100360822614493097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/1100360822614493097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2010/04/homeschool-etc-update.html' title='Homeschool, Etc, Update'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/S7-8caerryI/AAAAAAAAAeE/R1a0BO6S9PM/s72-c/Schoolroom+1a.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-6156082811649788424</id><published>2010-03-13T08:07:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-13T08:21:41.585-05:00</updated><title type='text'>IT'S OFFICIAL!!</title><content type='html'>I am a homeschooling mommy! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I went to pick Aiden up from school yesterday I parked my car in the carpool line and went inside and withdrew him.  We are free!!  Or insane, depending on your point of view.  I am glad for the self-confidence Aiden gained this year in the public school system, but I am not appreciative of the lack of reading skills.  Every day this week Aiden as asked, "Can do homeschool today?"  I imagine it was more because he wanted to be lazy instead of getting his responsibilities done to be ready to head out to school.  He doesn't understand that those responsibilities will be exactly the same for homeschool - minus the get the backpack ready part.  Monday should be interesting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So for the next five or so months I will work on teaching Aiden and Mikayla to read, going fairly quickly through a Kindergarten math program (I believe they are both pretty comfortable with at least most of the stuff we'll be going through), and working on their handwriting skills.  Nothing too complicated or time-consuming.  Hopefully they'll enjoy it and it will serve as a good transition to a full first grade homeschool program in the fall.  (And hopefully it'll work out better for Bethany's nap times, as well!)  Pray for us as we join the craziness that is the homeschooling family!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2464173481696689303-6156082811649788424?l=bluetassel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/6156082811649788424/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=6156082811649788424' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/6156082811649788424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/6156082811649788424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2010/03/its-official.html' title='IT&apos;S OFFICIAL!!'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-7868189546337215614</id><published>2010-03-08T16:37:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-03-08T17:31:12.823-05:00</updated><title type='text'>So . . . It's Been Awhile</title><content type='html'>Yes, a new post - finally.  I know, I'm such a slacker.  I just looked at the date on the last post and saw that it has been more than three months since I've posted.  Oops!  I have no idea why I didn't post in December.  Holidays, I guess, but I don't remember too much insanity.  So no real excuses (other than four little ones).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;January I have two excuses.  First, I found the Flylady.  She teaches people how to FLY - to Finally Love Yourself.  Well, I don't really need to FLY, because I have Jesus, the author of Love!  But, I could use some help to organize my weekly/monthly/yearly cleaning, and some definite help on getting rid of clutter.  You know that other half of my garage (and master bedroom) that is boxes of kids' clothes that I was saving until Bethany was born and proved that she was a girl like the ultrasound said.  And all the boxes of decorations and memorabilia and who knows what that haven't been opened in at least two years, and some not since I packed them up when I graduated college.  Okay, if it hasn't been missed in more than ten years, I don't really think I need to keep toting it around!!  Especially heading into the military where we'll be moving every two to three years.  Crazy!  Second, I finally made the decision to homeschool my kids.  Yup, I'm going rogue (and currently reading Sarah Palin's book &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Going Rogue&lt;/span&gt;, so that phrase is stuck in my head).  Everybody thinks I'm crazy. But we already knew that, so what's the deal?  I've spent at least half of my time the past two months researching everything homeschool from styles to curriculum to how to pull my kid out of the public school system that he's been a part of for the past seven months or so to what direction to go in to get him speech therapy to - you get the picture.  I'm excited, though.  Still don't have all the details figured out, but I do have lesson plans for the next year and a half (the rest of kindergarten and 1st grade for Aiden and Mikayla).  I'm going to try and teach them together at the same level.  We'll see how it goes.  I think Mikayla can do it, but I'm not going to force her to go faster than she's truly ready.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;February, Philip and I spent the first three days in Atlanta at the headquarters of the North American Mission Board of the Southern Baptist Convention in information sessions and interviews for Philip to be endorsed to become a US Navy Chaplain.  We flew back into Orlando International Airport (MCO) about 7:00pm on Wednesday the third and I flew out of MCO at about 7:00am the next morning with my parents and my kids.  I was home about eight hours.  We headed up to Wisconsin for my Grandma Baeten's 90th birthday.  What a special time that was up there in cold country!  The kids still talk about sledding in the snow and seeing Grandma Bacon - yes, you read that right, they pronounce it Bacon.  Crazy kids!  Too cute!  So when I finally stayed in Orlando for more that eight hours at a time, I was already a good week or so behind in everything from laundry to life.  Then the kids and I got sick.  Nothing horrible, but major headcolds that resulted in a double ear infection and nebulizer treatments three+ times a day for Aiden, single ear infection for Mikayla, and horrible, nasty, traumatizing coughs for all four kids.  And I was just flat-out miserable.  Thankfully Philip never got it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now it's the second week of March, Aiden is off all meds, Mikayla still has half her prescription to go, and everyone is sounding and feeling much better.  Bethany is nine months old and as tiny as ever, but babbling up a storm and cruising all around the furniture.  She'll walk holding onto one hand, but doesn't even consider moving her feet if she's not holding onto something.  Which is fine by me.  That means she's at least a little slower than her brothers and sister.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the 18th or 19th of February amidst all the illnesses, Philip got the paperwork saying he was endorsed by NAMB to seek a commission as a Navy Chaplain!!  His recruiter is going to set up an appointment for him to go to MEPS (medical physical for the military) and have an interview with an O-4 Chaplain, both of which are necessary to complete his application, sometime in the next week or so.  Then on April 13 he is scheduled for his CARE Board.  Basically he will fly up to Washington DC to stand before about half-a-dozen bigwigs in the military and answer all their questions as to why he wants to be a Navy Chaplain.  Or so I gather.  Obviously I (and he) will understand better afterward.  Hindsight will definitely be 20-20 in this case.  From there, within that next month the board will make their final decision and hopefully they will offer Philip a commission with the US Navy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm sort of caught up from February's insanity and still trying to track down info on speech therapy and homeschool and how the two shall mesh.  And cleaning out my clutter - made several trips to Goodwill already.  I can't wait until I can see my garage floor again.  And I can't wait until my older two kids can read.  And I can't wait until my third finally realizing how much more comfortable life can be when you actually use the toilet rather than the diaper, pull-up or underwear as a toilet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And maybe I can actually post on a regular basis again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My question now is how long it will be until the few readers I have actually realize that I have a brand new post up . . . :P &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(And if you haven't seen or heard about Philip's Navy Blog tracking our (his) road through the Navy Chaplain application process and our future time in the Navy as Chaplain and Chaplain Spouse, the link to it is on the right.)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2464173481696689303-7868189546337215614?l=bluetassel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/7868189546337215614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=7868189546337215614' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/7868189546337215614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/7868189546337215614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2010/03/so-its-been-awhile.html' title='So . . . It&apos;s Been Awhile'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-8733004924879948632</id><published>2009-11-30T20:21:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-30T21:02:19.296-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Post</title><content type='html'>But it is a new update - sort of.  Videos for the Grandmommies, in particular.  First, a bit of Bethany's "Caterpiller Crawl" from this past week.  She basically pulls herself along by her hands about half the time pulling her knees up under her and launching herself forward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-ab40d87f61e17e34" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v17.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dab40d87f61e17e34%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329958519%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D3ED22CD6390CB44BB8B6AE6586ED09E693909544.3513D94708140DBF9EDFA73FA7999DAFA417C8E7%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dab40d87f61e17e34%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DHhZSmHsEVnYEZDD4PUtOevSJHzw&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v17.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dab40d87f61e17e34%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329958519%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D3ED22CD6390CB44BB8B6AE6586ED09E693909544.3513D94708140DBF9EDFA73FA7999DAFA417C8E7%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dab40d87f61e17e34%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DHhZSmHsEVnYEZDD4PUtOevSJHzw&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Well, she is also sitting pretty well whenever she wants to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-c031e3dcaeb4111e" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v8.nonxt1.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dc031e3dcaeb4111e%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329958519%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D223AD678BA23D1000505DEFF3773E1B4377B8E0.C482EB888456EDF61E43FA3EB7366E9A3A75674%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dc031e3dcaeb4111e%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D1X_8FTTG5dbTTXPSvxuRyTgcDoM&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v8.nonxt1.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Dc031e3dcaeb4111e%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329958519%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D223AD678BA23D1000505DEFF3773E1B4377B8E0.C482EB888456EDF61E43FA3EB7366E9A3A75674%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Dc031e3dcaeb4111e%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D1X_8FTTG5dbTTXPSvxuRyTgcDoM&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And she's also . . . Yes . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's Crawling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-f1b46d1a55076e24" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v6.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Df1b46d1a55076e24%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329958519%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3DBB22480AF00FB8177C32A9073B40C826B86E15A.3851E748DB89697713613B8A9F824744C636C557%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Df1b46d1a55076e24%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DDWWHeG3z4D3UTiqBpMJgvrAIeTA&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v6.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Df1b46d1a55076e24%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329958519%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3DBB22480AF00FB8177C32A9073B40C826B86E15A.3851E748DB89697713613B8A9F824744C636C557%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Df1b46d1a55076e24%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DDWWHeG3z4D3UTiqBpMJgvrAIeTA&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a cute video of her crawling to me a fair distance, but I managed to delete it without realizing it.  Good one, Ang.  Ah, well.  You get the idea from this one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She'll be six months old this Friday and she's crawling.  It's not fair!!  Mommy is not ready!  Bethany is supposed to take longer than the others to hit these milestones!  She is not supposed to do it sooner. . . But it is fun to watch.&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/2464173481696689303-8733004924879948632?l=bluetassel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/8733004924879948632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=8733004924879948632' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/8733004924879948632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/8733004924879948632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2009/11/another-post.html' title='Another Post'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-5195344585133929709</id><published>2009-11-30T10:48:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-30T11:13:04.482-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanksgiving Week</title><content type='html'>First I have to post a series of pictures from about two weeks ago.  Philip was watching the kids while I was out and took some pictures of Bethany's travels - and how they wore her out.  He was on his computer and she was playing nearby until he realized she was pretty quiet.  The pictures are taken of Bethany along her path.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;She started out right near him.  At the end all he could see was her feet.&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://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SxPqFkzhi8I/AAAAAAAAAb8/M94KNAiAdmk/s1600/One.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SxPqFkzhi8I/AAAAAAAAAb8/M94KNAiAdmk/s320/One.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409924958902127554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So she crawled from him towards the kitchen.  She played a bit with the little house and her carseat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SxPqF7UVVCI/AAAAAAAAAcE/eOLsEhXNwaY/s1600/Two.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SxPqF7UVVCI/AAAAAAAAAcE/eOLsEhXNwaY/s320/Two.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409924964945318946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;He found her just around the corner in the kitchen where she collapsed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SxPqGToZg9I/AAAAAAAAAcM/5BbcSyKgDrU/s1600/Three.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SxPqGToZg9I/AAAAAAAAAcM/5BbcSyKgDrU/s320/Three.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409924971471930322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yup - she decided it was naptime.  Right where she was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SxPqG8RiX-I/AAAAAAAAAcU/zBuNBcOCB5c/s1600/Four.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SxPqG8RiX-I/AAAAAAAAAcU/zBuNBcOCB5c/s320/Four.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409924982381895650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Tuesday we went for a walk through our neighborhood and up to the Winn Dixie to buy some bread  and milk.  The love running ahead of me and are great about stopping before any streets and waiting for Bethany and myself to catch up.  Aiden is our protector from any bad guys that may happen along.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SxPriGmfpzI/AAAAAAAAAcc/_OU7qXC68iw/s1600/Going+for+a+walk.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SxPriGmfpzI/AAAAAAAAAcc/_OU7qXC68iw/s320/Going+for+a+walk.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409926548522247986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I don't remember what we had for dinner that night, but it included pretzels and Aiden got creative:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SxPritA79wI/AAAAAAAAAcs/IvmWDm3eF2Q/s1600/Aiden%27s+pretzel+man.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SxPritA79wI/AAAAAAAAAcs/IvmWDm3eF2Q/s320/Aiden%27s+pretzel+man.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409926558833702658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meet Pretzel Man&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SxPriSa8ZoI/AAAAAAAAAck/3nlswAvoo0Q/s1600/Pretzel+man.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SxPriSa8ZoI/AAAAAAAAAck/3nlswAvoo0Q/s320/Pretzel+man.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409926551695025794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And Friday the kids played outside at the house on the swingset for a couple hours, then we had a picnic up at the local park and spent a couple hours playing with all the kids there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Bethany says "HI!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SxPtaieThVI/AAAAAAAAAc0/EN9m4KhUQCY/s1600/Bethany+grinning.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SxPtaieThVI/AAAAAAAAAc0/EN9m4KhUQCY/s320/Bethany+grinning.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409928617588393298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;They all enjoyed hanging around on the monkey bars.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SxPta6yru2I/AAAAAAAAAc8/X3z29qHAZEg/s1600/Boys+monkey+bars.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SxPta6yru2I/AAAAAAAAAc8/X3z29qHAZEg/s320/Boys+monkey+bars.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409928624116317026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Mikayla smiling for the camera right before she fell and hurt her arm.  She was fine after mommy pulled her arm out from between two pieces of playground equipment. Silly girl!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SxPtcM_YVCI/AAAAAAAAAdM/ohMH9eiPmS8/s1600/Mikayla+1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SxPtcM_YVCI/AAAAAAAAAdM/ohMH9eiPmS8/s320/Mikayla+1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409928646181278754" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SxPtbSbhRVI/AAAAAAAAAdE/tjG_3fKWkOE/s1600/Mikayla+flirt.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SxPtbSbhRVI/AAAAAAAAAdE/tjG_3fKWkOE/s320/Mikayla+flirt.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409928630461613394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Bethany took a short nap while we were there.  She sure loves those two fingers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SxPtcRmxf0I/AAAAAAAAAdU/CfCd_7hho48/s1600/Bethany+almost+asleep.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SxPtcRmxf0I/AAAAAAAAAdU/CfCd_7hho48/s320/Bethany+almost+asleep.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5409928647420247874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Now the older two are back in school this week and loving it!!  And Tristan is jealous.  He so wants to go to school with Mikayla!  And Mikayla wants to go to big school with Aiden!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2464173481696689303-5195344585133929709?l=bluetassel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/5195344585133929709/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=5195344585133929709' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/5195344585133929709'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/5195344585133929709'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2009/11/thanksgiving-week.html' title='Thanksgiving Week'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SxPqFkzhi8I/AAAAAAAAAb8/M94KNAiAdmk/s72-c/One.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-438827025510170708</id><published>2009-11-20T15:59:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-20T16:15:19.992-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Philip and the Kids</title><content type='html'>Nothing too exciting happening here.  Today was the last day of school before Thanksgiving break.  The kids don't really get the concept of school vacation and they enjoy school so a week off is nothing so exciting for them.  So all I have today is just a couple pictures of Philip and the kids that I took last night while I was cleaning up after dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love this one because it looks like Bethany is waving to the camera, but Aiden is smiling at the ground - no clue why.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SwcGM7OOENI/AAAAAAAAAbo/DaVmz_k908M/s1600/Kids+1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SwcGM7OOENI/AAAAAAAAAbo/DaVmz_k908M/s320/Kids+1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406296696807100626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally everyone is smiling at the camera!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SwcGNOy5K8I/AAAAAAAAAbw/VOh2xuXjLaw/s1600/Kids+2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SwcGNOy5K8I/AAAAAAAAAbw/VOh2xuXjLaw/s320/Kids+2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5406296702061194178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2464173481696689303-438827025510170708?l=bluetassel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/438827025510170708/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=438827025510170708' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/438827025510170708'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/438827025510170708'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2009/11/philip-and-kids.html' title='Philip and the Kids'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SwcGM7OOENI/AAAAAAAAAbo/DaVmz_k908M/s72-c/Kids+1.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-2991223096470272188</id><published>2009-11-12T15:14:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-12T15:38:51.257-05:00</updated><title type='text'>So I Lost a Week . . .</title><content type='html'>One day it was the first of November.  I woke up the next morning and it was about a week later.  Don't ask me what happened.  Four kids, perhaps?  So since the last post not too much has changed in our day-to-day.  The week before Halloween, Aiden's school was having a week of emphasis on being Drug-Free, so most days were some sort of spirit day type of thing relating to being and staying drug free.  Wednesday was the day to wear red - so Aiden wore Red.  That same day was Mikayla's class' day to wear their Halloween costume to school.  They were going to do a costume parade through the other classes.  Well, Mikayla doesn't have a Halloween costume, but she has dress up dresses.  So Mikayla wore a princess dress to school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SvxuXvaVwCI/AAAAAAAAAbQ/auf0P_WlPug/s1600-h/A+and+M.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SvxuXvaVwCI/AAAAAAAAAbQ/auf0P_WlPug/s320/A+and+M.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403315007080742946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And of course, Tristan had to get in on the picture fun, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SvxuXx9I_GI/AAAAAAAAAbY/t3QdumQ06Zw/s1600-h/All+three.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SvxuXx9I_GI/AAAAAAAAAbY/t3QdumQ06Zw/s320/All+three.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403315007763577954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And one Saturday we were having a lazy morning (okay, most Saturdays we have lazy mornings), and Bethany just decided to fall asleep where she was - in mommy's arms.  :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SvxvRVXRWKI/AAAAAAAAAbg/4da-PI9cw9c/s1600-h/Bethany+Sleeping.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SvxvRVXRWKI/AAAAAAAAAbg/4da-PI9cw9c/s320/Bethany+Sleeping.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5403315996520962210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Note the fingers in her mouth.  At least she's not a thumb sucker . . . I guess.  Why will my kids not take to paci's?  Arrgg!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This past week I had an "argument" with Tristan.  I don't remember what exactly it was about - something silly as always, but I love arguing with him because it's the easiest arguring in the world:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tristan: Says something is a particular way - fill it in however a two-year old may.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mommy: No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tristan: Yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mommy: No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tristan: Yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mommy: No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tristan: Yes No Yes No Yes No Yes No . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just have to laugh!  He just takes over arguing both sides.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I may not have said it on here before, but I'm always telling Philip and others that Tristan is my comic relief.  He is a trip!  Another recent example:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were sitting around the dinner table one evening this week.  Most meals end up with Aiden trying to race whoever else is eating.  At dinner it's usually daddy that he's trying to beat.  This particular night he thought he was beating daddy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aiden: I'm winning!&lt;br /&gt;Daddy: No, I'm on my second helping.&lt;br /&gt;Aiden: I'm on my third!&lt;br /&gt;Mikayla: I'm on my first!&lt;br /&gt;Tristan: I'm on my seat!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all about fell off our seats laughing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And in other news, the one change that has happened since I posted last is that Philip got a promotion at Target!!  Whoo hoo!  He is now a Senior Team Lead which is two steps up from what he was.  Congratulations, Philip!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2464173481696689303-2991223096470272188?l=bluetassel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/2991223096470272188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=2991223096470272188' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/2991223096470272188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/2991223096470272188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2009/11/so-i-lost-week.html' title='So I Lost a Week . . .'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SvxuXvaVwCI/AAAAAAAAAbQ/auf0P_WlPug/s72-c/A+and+M.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-5391927181357172956</id><published>2009-10-28T14:07:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-28T16:31:10.603-05:00</updated><title type='text'>She's On Her Knees</title><content type='html'>Bethany has outgrown the big blanket now.  Last week she started pulling herself up to her knees and she would sit there and rock back and forth.  Now she has finally figured out how to actually move herself forward.  Not crawling - yet - just getting up on hands and knees and throwing herself forward.   (I don't have pictures or video from this week, yet.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SuiZRQiWdLI/AAAAAAAAAa4/0przxc7HrWA/s1600-h/On+knees+1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SuiZRQiWdLI/AAAAAAAAAa4/0przxc7HrWA/s320/On+knees+1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397732675179410610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/_M56_r0NsIp0/SuiZSttpfvI/AAAAAAAAAbA/DJjIhY5N738/s1600-h/On+knees+2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SuiZSttpfvI/AAAAAAAAAbA/DJjIhY5N738/s320/On+knees+2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397732700191293170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's not even five months old - I'm not ready for this.&lt;br /&gt;She's number four.&lt;br /&gt;She's supposed to just sit back and chill out and do everything later than the other three.&lt;br /&gt;Not earlier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess she didn't get the memo.&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://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SuiZThIMphI/AAAAAAAAAbI/tZletjnW-dg/s1600-h/Peek+a+Boo.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SuiZThIMphI/AAAAAAAAAbI/tZletjnW-dg/s320/Peek+a+Boo.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397732713992857106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Peek-a-boo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Video of her getting up on her knees last week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-3408f2cd154dd155" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v6.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D3408f2cd154dd155%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329958519%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D624E6EE8D66CAFCEFEA34BDB6CC827CB973C690D.7487B96E886919DCB04A9807875741953C5BFEA5%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D3408f2cd154dd155%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DOQkOIaml3RuLnHSCuCv9WL2XHHs&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v6.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D3408f2cd154dd155%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329958519%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D624E6EE8D66CAFCEFEA34BDB6CC827CB973C690D.7487B96E886919DCB04A9807875741953C5BFEA5%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D3408f2cd154dd155%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DOQkOIaml3RuLnHSCuCv9WL2XHHs&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This started as another attempt to get a good video of her on her knees, but she saw me and just began making her funny faces at me.  She loves the feel of her mouth, I guess!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-466beb56f84a30a7" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v2.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D466beb56f84a30a7%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329958519%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D734D1C6D3B3980A49091E568248FDE6CAE5325CA.62D258A9EEF961D22D1393AF663F9FE07E49BB75%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D466beb56f84a30a7%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DgKXzcRVB_eM5Kf5mveqaxMIUjBs&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v2.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D466beb56f84a30a7%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329958519%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D734D1C6D3B3980A49091E568248FDE6CAE5325CA.62D258A9EEF961D22D1393AF663F9FE07E49BB75%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D466beb56f84a30a7%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DgKXzcRVB_eM5Kf5mveqaxMIUjBs&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2464173481696689303-5391927181357172956?l=bluetassel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/5391927181357172956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=5391927181357172956' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/5391927181357172956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/5391927181357172956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2009/10/shes-on-her-knees.html' title='She&apos;s On Her Knees'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SuiZRQiWdLI/AAAAAAAAAa4/0przxc7HrWA/s72-c/On+knees+1.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-7024611945959150276</id><published>2009-10-24T08:28:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-24T08:50:36.880-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Orlando Science Center</title><content type='html'>The week that Mikayla and Tristan were in the mountains with Grandmommy Chris and Grandpa Larry I tried to do some special stuff with Aiden.  That Friday he had off school so he and Bethany and I went to the Orlando Science Center.  We had a lot of fun!  Four floors worth of fun - though we really ran out of time to do the fourth floor justice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;We got to see how a tornado works&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SuMDofAt6BI/AAAAAAAAAaY/0_KGizVHST8/s1600-h/Aiden%27s+Tornado.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SuMDofAt6BI/AAAAAAAAAaY/0_KGizVHST8/s320/Aiden%27s+Tornado.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396160772574144530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;And Aiden got to experience a category 1 hurricane - you can see the wind speed up at the top (sorry the video is sideways - I don't know how to change 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://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SuMDpY3OetI/AAAAAAAAAaw/GIEjK4CBv-0/s1600-h/Swingset+Usage.JPG"&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-f4493c887f464964" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v7.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Df4493c887f464964%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329958519%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D25801E3C7ACF2602B380E07853E4128AFDBFB4FA.609259B5264A9C4B130072AF02AE150680363C45%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Df4493c887f464964%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DLwFWbeRw4iOKtwmRkzBVKmGbJZg&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v7.nonxt5.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Df4493c887f464964%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329958519%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D25801E3C7ACF2602B380E07853E4128AFDBFB4FA.609259B5264A9C4B130072AF02AE150680363C45%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Df4493c887f464964%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DLwFWbeRw4iOKtwmRkzBVKmGbJZg&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;He got to pretend to be a baby sea turtle&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SuMDonPGIgI/AAAAAAAAAag/zkBiO8LKYpk/s1600-h/Baby+Turtle.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SuMDonPGIgI/AAAAAAAAAag/zkBiO8LKYpk/s320/Baby+Turtle.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396160774781936130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;And sit on a snake - King Cobra maybe?  I don't remember&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SuMDo5oAsKI/AAAAAAAAAao/_WddDqbguq8/s1600-h/King+Cobra.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SuMDo5oAsKI/AAAAAAAAAao/_WddDqbguq8/s320/King+Cobra.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396160779718275234" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then my camera battery died - and I had almost put the other battery in my bag before we left home and decided, nah, this one will be fine.  Oops.  But it was fun regardless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Somewhere during that week Aiden found a new way to enjoy the swingset . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SuMDpY3OetI/AAAAAAAAAaw/GIEjK4CBv-0/s1600-h/Swingset+Usage.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SuMDpY3OetI/AAAAAAAAAaw/GIEjK4CBv-0/s320/Swingset+Usage.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396160788103592658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a fun quiet week without the middle two kids, but we are glad they are back now - they were missed.  The most asked question during the week, "When are Mikayla and Tristan going to be back?"  The second most asked question, "What do you think Mikayla and Tristan are doing right now?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2464173481696689303-7024611945959150276?l=bluetassel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/7024611945959150276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=7024611945959150276' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/7024611945959150276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/7024611945959150276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2009/10/orlando-science-center.html' title='Orlando Science Center'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SuMDofAt6BI/AAAAAAAAAaY/0_KGizVHST8/s72-c/Aiden%27s+Tornado.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-7614372431555451420</id><published>2009-10-14T14:29:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-14T14:55:15.158-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bethany Videos</title><content type='html'>With the middle two kids gone this week Bethany has been filling the silence gap when she's awake:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-7fd51f0e7afb4ebb" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v11.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D7fd51f0e7afb4ebb%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329958519%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D75077B3EC6C8108586D665DF90F472C44D2FEB05.12375CDF977BC1B757B4AFB00AD4A841F7793B5%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D7fd51f0e7afb4ebb%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DPQVLy3mmjaUNbICUjj0RvM0EsfU&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v11.nonxt2.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D7fd51f0e7afb4ebb%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329958519%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D75077B3EC6C8108586D665DF90F472C44D2FEB05.12375CDF977BC1B757B4AFB00AD4A841F7793B5%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D7fd51f0e7afb4ebb%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DPQVLy3mmjaUNbICUjj0RvM0EsfU&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And she's learning to move herself toward toys, as well:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-4bdcb8e6a9ba4719" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" 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bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v19.nonxt7.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D4bdcb8e6a9ba4719%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329958519%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D1D5D238D34C6F25FA79D6FFD9E3C98721E82375C.27AD44BCABD43250407AF8FE8D73FE4FCEF1576B%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D4bdcb8e6a9ba4719%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3D4th8ZtoS2UilaoLouG9d3GWCSiA&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She also tried to catch a sunbeam:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-4480cbaf160e1e8c" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v17.nonxt1.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D4480cbaf160e1e8c%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329958519%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D62050836EDFF2F8355B320BD84C2D7D04B34412B.4B25166B896B681CE58D1C6C9D98E0433FC30E28%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D4480cbaf160e1e8c%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DUcK1x5tfOz8YNdohRLylJnFcb8c&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v17.nonxt1.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D4480cbaf160e1e8c%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329958519%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D62050836EDFF2F8355B320BD84C2D7D04B34412B.4B25166B896B681CE58D1C6C9D98E0433FC30E28%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D4480cbaf160e1e8c%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DUcK1x5tfOz8YNdohRLylJnFcb8c&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2464173481696689303-7614372431555451420?l=bluetassel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/7614372431555451420/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=7614372431555451420' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/7614372431555451420'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/7614372431555451420'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2009/10/bethany_14.html' title='Bethany Videos'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-2054619506839681382</id><published>2009-10-14T07:55:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-14T08:31:40.387-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Say Hi To Mikayla and Tristan!</title><content type='html'>So this post is primarily for Mikayla and Tristan.  They are in the NC mountains this week with Grandmommy Chris and Grandpa Larry while Aiden and Bethany stayed home with Mommy and Daddy.  When any of the kids are with Grandmommy and Grandpa they always have pictures taken and emailed to the rest of us back home.  Well, today I realized I could kind of do the same for them.  So right before we left to take Aiden to school I took a couple pictures to say we're thinking about the rest of you as we head about our normal days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/StXOgQviJHI/AAAAAAAAAZ4/xniMQslG7og/s1600-h/Aiden+Smiling.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/StXOgQviJHI/AAAAAAAAAZ4/xniMQslG7og/s320/Aiden+Smiling.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392443182491509874" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Aiden Waving at Mikayla and Tristan&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/StXOg2fgqWI/AAAAAAAAAaA/kITrMYkX1Yk/s1600-h/Aiden+Waving.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/StXOg2fgqWI/AAAAAAAAAaA/kITrMYkX1Yk/s320/Aiden+Waving.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392443192624851298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Bethany just looking at the camera&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/StXOhVRnlAI/AAAAAAAAAaI/ovhp535Y1e4/s1600-h/Bethany+Looking.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/StXOhVRnlAI/AAAAAAAAAaI/ovhp535Y1e4/s320/Bethany+Looking.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392443200888083458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Bethany saying, "Hi" to her brother and sister.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/StXOh7b6oOI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/yESpiewlP48/s1600-h/Bethany+Saying+Hi.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/StXOh7b6oOI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/yESpiewlP48/s320/Bethany+Saying+Hi.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5392443211131822306" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/2464173481696689303-2054619506839681382?l=bluetassel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/2054619506839681382/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=2054619506839681382' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/2054619506839681382'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/2054619506839681382'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2009/10/say-hi-to-mikayla-and-tristan.html' title='Say Hi To Mikayla and Tristan!'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/StXOgQviJHI/AAAAAAAAAZ4/xniMQslG7og/s72-c/Aiden+Smiling.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-2463168826226415665</id><published>2009-10-09T10:25:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T10:44:38.074-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bethany</title><content type='html'>So Bethany decided she was tired of laying on her back in the bouncy seat after bottle . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Ss9ZQPxdFBI/AAAAAAAAAZg/WhAl1fD6G8M/s1600-h/Bouncy+Roll+Over.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Ss9ZQPxdFBI/AAAAAAAAAZg/WhAl1fD6G8M/s320/Bouncy+Roll+Over.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390625414632510482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Wednesday Bethany was playing happily in the family room on a blanket when we were ready to sit down to dinner so I decided to just leave her there to play while we ate.  Shortly after we sat down and began to eat I looked over at her.  She had seen that we were sitting down eating in the other room and just lay there watching us.  It was too cute not to take a picture of.&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/_M56_r0NsIp0/Ss9aAAgUtrI/AAAAAAAAAZo/tetCqvAxy14/s1600-h/Watching+Us+Eat.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Ss9aAAgUtrI/AAAAAAAAAZo/tetCqvAxy14/s320/Watching+Us+Eat.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390626235167848114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Ss9aLnDqTnI/AAAAAAAAAZw/8LkPS-WL6T8/s1600-h/Close+Up.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Ss9aLnDqTnI/AAAAAAAAAZw/8LkPS-WL6T8/s320/Close+Up.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390626434495172210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Isn't she sweet!&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/2464173481696689303-2463168826226415665?l=bluetassel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/2463168826226415665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=2463168826226415665' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/2463168826226415665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/2463168826226415665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2009/10/bethany.html' title='Bethany'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Ss9ZQPxdFBI/AAAAAAAAAZg/WhAl1fD6G8M/s72-c/Bouncy+Roll+Over.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-4895431501949519005</id><published>2009-10-07T10:25:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-07T10:49:32.280-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Look What Tristan and I Saw!</title><content type='html'>Philip had to work from 9:00pm to 5:30am last Thursday night.  So after Tristan, Bethany and I dropped Mikayla and Aiden off at school I ran to Wal-Mart to get the van's oil changed and give Philip some more time to sleep in a quiet house.  He ended up getting an extra half hour or so because as we were driving through Apopka we saw smoke which led us to a condemned building being burned down by the fire department!  So we hung out for awhile and watched.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Tristan was excited!&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://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Ssy1hUrlSII/AAAAAAAAAZA/yWfH4khOXmo/s1600-h/Fire+With+Tristan.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Ssy1hUrlSII/AAAAAAAAAZA/yWfH4khOXmo/s320/Fire+With+Tristan.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389882438147459202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poor Dave's Jewelers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Ssy1hBHsfwI/AAAAAAAAAY4/kYIpvp-zMbw/s1600-h/Dave%27s+Jewelers.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Ssy1hBHsfwI/AAAAAAAAAY4/kYIpvp-zMbw/s320/Dave%27s+Jewelers.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389882432896663298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;All around the house the firemen were in groups of twos with hoses aimed at the fire.  Every minute or so they would turn their hose on to keep the fire contained within the building.&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/_M56_r0NsIp0/Ssy1guITn0I/AAAAAAAAAYw/i1C6_1w1Xfc/s1600-h/Fire+with+Firemen.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Ssy1guITn0I/AAAAAAAAAYw/i1C6_1w1Xfc/s320/Fire+with+Firemen.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389882427798953794" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got to see a couple of firemen in full gear.  Most were just in their pants and t-shirts.&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/_M56_r0NsIp0/Ssy1gU51eFI/AAAAAAAAAYo/6e_PG09ZwJ4/s1600-h/Fireman.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Ssy1gU51eFI/AAAAAAAAAYo/6e_PG09ZwJ4/s320/Fireman.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389882421027371090" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At one point we were only about ten feet from the fire truck!!  Exciting!&lt;br /&gt;(got to love the finger in the picture . . .)&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/_M56_r0NsIp0/SsyzYMDSR2I/AAAAAAAAAYg/TrHvlicQVDs/s1600-h/Fire+Truck.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SsyzYMDSR2I/AAAAAAAAAYg/TrHvlicQVDs/s320/Fire+Truck.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389880082188879714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fire is slowly burning the building down.  On this side the fire is burning right up next to the bushes and trees.  I couldn't believe that none of it was catcing fire!&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://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SsyzXnvlrTI/AAAAAAAAAYY/E6MgLmgW2UY/s1600-h/Burning.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SsyzXnvlrTI/AAAAAAAAAYY/E6MgLmgW2UY/s320/Burning.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389880072442588466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Burning down.  On the left you can see some of the building had already collapsed and the fire was pretty much out in that area.&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://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SsyzXY26BBI/AAAAAAAAAYQ/vvPtl8Tvub4/s1600-h/Burning+Down.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SsyzXY26BBI/AAAAAAAAAYQ/vvPtl8Tvub4/s320/Burning+Down.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389880068446749714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A group of fireman watching from a different angle as we were leaving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SsyzW0f20VI/AAAAAAAAAYI/3modBBKkxEw/s1600-h/Fireman+at+End.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SsyzW0f20VI/AAAAAAAAAYI/3modBBKkxEw/s320/Fireman+at+End.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389880058686394706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It was a fun time.  We even had a fireman come up and say "Hi!"  But Tristan played shy for once and wouldn't look at him, much less talk to him.  Silly Boy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2464173481696689303-4895431501949519005?l=bluetassel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/4895431501949519005/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=4895431501949519005' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/4895431501949519005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/4895431501949519005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2009/10/look-what-tristan-and-i-saw.html' title='Look What Tristan and I Saw!'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Ssy1hUrlSII/AAAAAAAAAZA/yWfH4khOXmo/s72-c/Fire+With+Tristan.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-665150935955918421</id><published>2009-09-29T15:23:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-29T15:57:20.316-05:00</updated><title type='text'>WATCH OUT . .  .</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:180%;" &gt;SHE SPITS!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SsJuH6xUYQI/AAAAAAAAAYA/PFrBHJaRHP0/s1600-h/Spit+1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SsJuH6xUYQI/AAAAAAAAAYA/PFrBHJaRHP0/s320/Spit+1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386989186602787074" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got home from our adventures**  in picking Aiden up from school today and put Bethany on the ground and what do I hear?  Spitting!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SsJuHQZZ5sI/AAAAAAAAAX4/tfI7ewVwXIA/s1600-h/Spit+2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SsJuHQZZ5sI/AAAAAAAAAX4/tfI7ewVwXIA/s320/Spit+2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386989175228196546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So do not walk within at least a foot of where she is lying on the ground (better yet, just don't walk on any part of the blanket) because she travels as she is spitting so it's wet all around her - gross!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SsJuG6SdaVI/AAAAAAAAAXw/J7hyx-_3V4Y/s1600-h/Spit+3.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SsJuG6SdaVI/AAAAAAAAAXw/J7hyx-_3V4Y/s320/Spit+3.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386989169293486418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And while Bethany was traveling and spitting all over my family room, Aiden decided he needed to clean house.  It all started with the fact that he took his shoes off in the dining room which has tile floors.  Whenever he takes his shoes off after school he leaves a HUGE pile of sand.  Since he took them off in the dining room, mommy saw it right away.  So he had to sweep it up.  Decent job, especially considering he's five.  That led to vacuuming:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SsJuGa2GciI/AAAAAAAAAXo/TelfISs3qjQ/s1600-h/Aiden+Vacuuming+1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SsJuGa2GciI/AAAAAAAAAXo/TelfISs3qjQ/s320/Aiden+Vacuuming+1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386989160853041698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I took pictures when he was in Mikayla's room, but he also did the living room and the boys' room.  Another decent job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SsJts0BWwwI/AAAAAAAAAXg/9gsRrua04sE/s1600-h/Aiden+Vacuuming+2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SsJts0BWwwI/AAAAAAAAAXg/9gsRrua04sE/s320/Aiden+Vacuuming+2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386988720934535938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And while Aiden was vacuuming, Tristan was supervising:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SsJtsRuIbCI/AAAAAAAAAXY/P4KuODcSyxo/s1600-h/Tristan+Supervising.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SsJtsRuIbCI/AAAAAAAAAXY/P4KuODcSyxo/s320/Tristan+Supervising.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386988711727098914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Supervising from Mikayla's unmade bed - which spends more time unmade than made because I've gotten so tired of remaking her bed when she destroys it that I have decided I only make it once, right after I wash the sheets - thus about once a week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This picture is more for the wall than the kid.  This shows the reason why Mikayla is not allowed to use any pen, pencil, crayon, chalk, marker or any other writing utensil you can think of for a month.  She cannot seem to get the concept through her head that you only write/color on paper - not walls or the bed or the toys.  Make sure to click on the picture to get the full effect.  It's beautiful . . .  In the course of less than 48 hours she colored with crayon or chalk on three of her walls, her bed, her floor, her wardrobe, three living room walls, the hallway walls, and multiple toys.  I don't know if she actually colored on any paper during that spree.  Needless to say mommy was not happy.  And daddy was even less happy because he realized that when we move out the only room that doesn't need to be painted (yet) is our bedroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SsJtrkpRqvI/AAAAAAAAAXI/ZuiJwoxaYq0/s1600-h/Mikayla%27s+Walls.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SsJtrkpRqvI/AAAAAAAAAXI/ZuiJwoxaYq0/s320/Mikayla%27s+Walls.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386988699627137778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this is our dear Mikayla who, while Aiden was cleaning, Tristan supervising, Bethany spitting and mommy taking pictures, was watching a Leap Frog alphabet movie. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SsJtsASsXmI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/uad0vjkr8yg/s1600-h/Mikayla.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SsJtsASsXmI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/uad0vjkr8yg/s320/Mikayla.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5386988707048611426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;**when you read "adventures" insert: sitting for about 40 minutes in the carline at Aiden's school with the car off in the 92 degree heat of Florida "fall" waiting to pick him up and then turning the key to turn the car on to finally pick him up and hearing click, click, click, then calling dad hoping that I just forgot to actually turn the car off and ran out of gas.  Dad added gas to the car and it still wouldn't start (as my poor van is totally in the way of the carline and the principal is having to direct traffic around me).  So he drove his truck up the wrong side of the carline (as they stop the carline altogether) in order to try to jump my car.  Thankfully that works the first time and we get Aiden.  Then we head directly to the local car battery store and have them test the battery amidst "I'm hungry"'s from the kids.  There they tell us our poor battery is basically dead and they had to put in a new one.  So we actually only ended up getting home about 45 minutes later than usual.  I am so glad that mom invited us over to dinner!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2464173481696689303-665150935955918421?l=bluetassel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/665150935955918421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=665150935955918421' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/665150935955918421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/665150935955918421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2009/09/watch-out.html' title='WATCH OUT . .  .'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SsJuH6xUYQI/AAAAAAAAAYA/PFrBHJaRHP0/s72-c/Spit+1.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-2074454161277724050</id><published>2009-09-26T13:32:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-26T13:37:23.564-05:00</updated><title type='text'>So - Does This Count As Sitting?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Just wondering - cause Bethany won't even be four months old until October 4, but she can already balance herself though she's still pretty bent over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Sr5emlBR2JI/AAAAAAAAAWw/synWAKskOGc/s1600-h/sit+and+smile+1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Sr5emlBR2JI/AAAAAAAAAWw/synWAKskOGc/s320/sit+and+smile+1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385846221247207570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;She loves to smile at Mommy!&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/_M56_r0NsIp0/Sr5em93YLBI/AAAAAAAAAW4/OQqaH-MnLpc/s1600-h/sit+and+smile+2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Sr5em93YLBI/AAAAAAAAAW4/OQqaH-MnLpc/s320/sit+and+smile+2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385846227916565522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And she's trying to play with her toys while she's sitting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Sr5enZBnXwI/AAAAAAAAAXA/HwpmAVRtOrk/s1600-h/playing+with+toy.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Sr5enZBnXwI/AAAAAAAAAXA/HwpmAVRtOrk/s320/playing+with+toy.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5385846235207261954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2464173481696689303-2074454161277724050?l=bluetassel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/2074454161277724050/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=2074454161277724050' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/2074454161277724050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/2074454161277724050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2009/09/so-does-this-count-as-sitting.html' title='So - Does This Count As Sitting?'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Sr5emlBR2JI/AAAAAAAAAWw/synWAKskOGc/s72-c/sit+and+smile+1.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-4120252163046159615</id><published>2009-09-18T12:30:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-18T13:59:01.763-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bethany Loves to Talk . . .</title><content type='html'>Especially when she's sitting in her bouncy seat watching mommy ignore her as she messes around on the computer!  She talks more than I remember any of the others talking at this age (or ever - except maybe Tristan now when the older two aren't around).  She woke up from her nap after I posted the last post - so two in one day!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-dc2b22d11a09f22e" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" 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name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v22.nonxt3.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3De75bf46ec939b6b0%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329958519%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D684ACDB6F9D561D193FC7F4B33FF1AB8C98F7AED.230184CFAE0BD6DC2367F558C26F3B8388EC3842%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3De75bf46ec939b6b0%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DBwT8TSEpeEr2kLxFqBzrskvr-aA&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v22.nonxt3.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3De75bf46ec939b6b0%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329958519%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D684ACDB6F9D561D193FC7F4B33FF1AB8C98F7AED.230184CFAE0BD6DC2367F558C26F3B8388EC3842%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3De75bf46ec939b6b0%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DBwT8TSEpeEr2kLxFqBzrskvr-aA&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2464173481696689303-4120252163046159615?l=bluetassel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/4120252163046159615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=4120252163046159615' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/4120252163046159615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/4120252163046159615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2009/09/bethany-loves-to-talk.html' title='Bethany Loves to Talk . . .'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-8760397915383046393</id><published>2009-09-18T10:22:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-18T11:01:27.156-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy 4th Birthday, Mikayla!!</title><content type='html'>Okay, I know I'm about, oh, four months late, but I actually sat down to do this post on May 13.  Then I realized I had no clue where the adapter was for the card from my cell phone.  I finally found the adapter so now I can share pictures of our birthday fun.  I took the kids to Lake Eola Park in Orlando for a couple hours.  We played on their fun playground first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Aiden and Mikayla&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/_M56_r0NsIp0/SrOpAVRpAEI/AAAAAAAAAUo/BGb4_sewL6c/s1600-h/A+%26+M.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SrOpAVRpAEI/AAAAAAAAAUo/BGb4_sewL6c/s320/A+%26+M.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382831802814103618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Birthday Girl!&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/_M56_r0NsIp0/SrOpBZGWgzI/AAAAAAAAAU4/Cj0M44bbwbI/s1600-h/Birthday+Girl.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SrOpBZGWgzI/AAAAAAAAAU4/Cj0M44bbwbI/s320/Birthday+Girl.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382831821020365618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Climbing up the Ropes&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/_M56_r0NsIp0/SrOpeSJjEqI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/M_K69xbU1DE/s1600-h/Climbing.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SrOpeSJjEqI/AAAAAAAAAVQ/M_K69xbU1DE/s320/Climbing.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382832317370929826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Conqueror!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SrOpfDPSUmI/AAAAAAAAAVg/umZwZjAdmXY/s1600-h/Conquerer.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SrOpfDPSUmI/AAAAAAAAAVg/umZwZjAdmXY/s320/Conquerer.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382832330548335202" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I'm gonna get you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SrOqctd-beI/AAAAAAAAAWA/Qja5EiP6V4k/s1600-h/I%27m+gonna+get+you.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SrOqctd-beI/AAAAAAAAAWA/Qja5EiP6V4k/s320/I%27m+gonna+get+you.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382833389856255458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Peek-a-boo!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SrOqeHj78JI/AAAAAAAAAWY/heaMfamXlpo/s1600-h/Peek-a-boo%21.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SrOqeHj78JI/AAAAAAAAAWY/heaMfamXlpo/s320/Peek-a-boo%21.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382833414040449170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Climbing across - making mommy nervous&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SrOpfqTTM3I/AAAAAAAAAVo/-zgI9B3kzKk/s1600-h/crawling.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SrOpfqTTM3I/AAAAAAAAAVo/-zgI9B3kzKk/s320/crawling.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382832341034152818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Aiden's been doing this for a year -&lt;br /&gt;mommy not so nervous&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SrOqdNPeBOI/AAAAAAAAAWI/Bb_X0wfSjMc/s1600-h/Like+brother,+like+sister.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SrOqdNPeBOI/AAAAAAAAAWI/Bb_X0wfSjMc/s320/Like+brother,+like+sister.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382833398385345762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Bird!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SrOpA3-r6PI/AAAAAAAAAUw/TI3D-V1FqvI/s1600-h/Bird%21.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SrOpA3-r6PI/AAAAAAAAAUw/TI3D-V1FqvI/s320/Bird%21.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382831812129843442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After we played on the playground for an hour or so we ate a picnic lunch on the lawn nearby, then we got to feed the birds!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SrOpgBM-FsI/AAAAAAAAAVw/Dj1R2acvQG0/s1600-h/Feeding+the+birds.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SrOpgBM-FsI/AAAAAAAAAVw/Dj1R2acvQG0/s320/Feeding+the+birds.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382832347181618882" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/_M56_r0NsIp0/SrOqdb7RfDI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/cM4tox0zeXk/s1600-h/More+feeding+the+birds.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SrOqdb7RfDI/AAAAAAAAAWQ/cM4tox0zeXk/s320/More+feeding+the+birds.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382833402327170098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Running through the birds&lt;br /&gt;(Tristan is way off in the distance)&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/_M56_r0NsIp0/SrOpCVugjjI/AAAAAAAAAVI/Rh2trJw7CYY/s1600-h/chasing+the+birds.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SrOpCVugjjI/AAAAAAAAAVI/Rh2trJw7CYY/s320/chasing+the+birds.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382831837294923314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quick smile for mommy!&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/_M56_r0NsIp0/SrOpB6LzQLI/AAAAAAAAAVA/OrdMBIX8NiM/s1600-h/Brothers+and+Sister.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SrOpB6LzQLI/AAAAAAAAAVA/OrdMBIX8NiM/s320/Brothers+and+Sister.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5382831829901590706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We had a blast!!&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/2464173481696689303-8760397915383046393?l=bluetassel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/8760397915383046393/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=8760397915383046393' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/8760397915383046393'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/8760397915383046393'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2009/09/happy-4th-birthday-mikayla.html' title='Happy 4th Birthday, Mikayla!!'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SrOpAVRpAEI/AAAAAAAAAUo/BGb4_sewL6c/s72-c/A+%26+M.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-4824048373493408082</id><published>2009-09-09T09:28:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-09T09:41:53.796-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Bethany: Hints of Laughter</title><content type='html'>First, a quick picture of Bethany sleeping.  Since she started rolling over I've had to move her out of the cradle and into the pack-n-play in our closet - for some reason I don't trust Mikayla and Bethany in the same room, yet.  This picture is of Bethany sleeping with her little butt in the air.  I think it's the cutest thing when they start sleeping like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Sqe8q0m7G7I/AAAAAAAAAUA/KcLjF3leMkk/s1600-h/Tummy+Sleeping.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Sqe8q0m7G7I/AAAAAAAAAUA/KcLjF3leMkk/s320/Tummy+Sleeping.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5379475723779775410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, Aiden was playing with Bethany on Monday while she was laying on the floor and I heard Bethany start laughing for the first time.  So I grabbed the camera real quick and had Aiden continue doing what he was doing to try and get it on film.  Of course as soon as I started filming she wouldn't really laugh, but you can kind of get the idea.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-88ae3d46ec23d16b" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" 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name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v3.nonxt1.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D4306dab1550f1950%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329958519%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D68F2C0BD7FE86629E2DA8FED215E2FE7319EDE79.769AC9BE06F8B339EC73284079B7919B22CE81F9%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D4306dab1550f1950%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DUclDjBPge9D6QzkqnKQzIC6Ufh8&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v3.nonxt1.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3D4306dab1550f1950%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329958519%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D68F2C0BD7FE86629E2DA8FED215E2FE7319EDE79.769AC9BE06F8B339EC73284079B7919B22CE81F9%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3D4306dab1550f1950%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DUclDjBPge9D6QzkqnKQzIC6Ufh8&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2464173481696689303-4824048373493408082?l=bluetassel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/4824048373493408082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=4824048373493408082' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/4824048373493408082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/4824048373493408082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2009/09/bethany-hints-of-laughter.html' title='Bethany: Hints of Laughter'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Sqe8q0m7G7I/AAAAAAAAAUA/KcLjF3leMkk/s72-c/Tummy+Sleeping.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-5425970336934549574</id><published>2009-09-03T09:33:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2009-09-03T10:10:29.678-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Quick Update</title><content type='html'>So I'm finally trying to get technically savvy. First, I've had pictures taken with the camera on my cell phone for months that I wanted to blog with, but I couldn't find the adapter to upload the pictures to my computer. I have finally found it - naturally in the safe place I put it so the kids wouldn't find it and I would surely remember where it was. Yeah, right. Second, I have rarely (if ever?) taken video of my kids because I am just a lousy parent, I suppose. Well, I finally took a video of Bethany for the Grandmommy's, in particular. Third, I actually attempted to email said video and found that my poor little old hotmail account and Philip's email account do not have the capacity to attach large files such as a one minute video. So now my final step for today in becoming more technically savvy: putting a video on my blog. Will it actually work? That is the question . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, I have a very blurry picture of Bethany (gotta love camera phones and quick pictures) sucking her middle two fingers just like her mommy apparently did some thirty-odd years ago. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Sp_WEYOD_tI/AAAAAAAAAT4/7skkd0iY43A/s1600-h/Fingers.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 309px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Sp_WEYOD_tI/AAAAAAAAAT4/7skkd0iY43A/s320/Fingers.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5377251850812915410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Bethany, my most precocious child when it comes to rolling over (she'll be three months old on tomorrow, Sept 4), rolled over for the first time Tuesday morning and by Tuesday afternoon she was using rolling as a mode of travel - which I don't remember any of my others doing.  I put her down on the (big) blanket and walked out of the room for about ten seconds and then walked back into the room to find her about five feet away from where I put her down.  I thought the Grandmommy's, in particular, would enjoy watching her roll over and try to look at the camera/mommy while getting the stubborn arm unstuck. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-b7dee7ca1c2b85ec" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;&lt;param name="bgcolor" value="#FFFFFF"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="flashvars" value="flvurl=http://v23.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Db7dee7ca1c2b85ec%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329958519%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D4453200A7E166E5801F6965A63D2F9AED36F433E.463B5B63118170AD38D10939BAA21B9056145541%26key%3Dck1&amp;amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Db7dee7ca1c2b85ec%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DU8jH88v_jn8izuIZC0dyHJkT_CY&amp;amp;autoplay=0&amp;amp;ps=blogger"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/get_player" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"width="320" height="266" bgcolor="#FFFFFF"flashvars="flvurl=http://v23.nonxt8.googlevideo.com/videoplayback?id%3Db7dee7ca1c2b85ec%26itag%3D5%26app%3Dblogger%26ip%3D0.0.0.0%26ipbits%3D0%26expire%3D1329958519%26sparams%3Did,itag,ip,ipbits,expire%26signature%3D4453200A7E166E5801F6965A63D2F9AED36F433E.463B5B63118170AD38D10939BAA21B9056145541%26key%3Dck1&amp;iurl=http://video.google.com/ThumbnailServer2?app%3Dblogger%26contentid%3Db7dee7ca1c2b85ec%26offsetms%3D5000%26itag%3Dw160%26sigh%3DU8jH88v_jn8izuIZC0dyHJkT_CY&amp;autoplay=0&amp;ps=blogger"allowFullScreen="true" /&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poor girl's going to have a flat nose if she keeps doing the bobble-head thing - Faceplant!  Now that I have pictures from the phone on my computer maybe I can do a few more picture updates.  The question is deciding what important tasks can be ignored during my day to update the blog.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2464173481696689303-5425970336934549574?l=bluetassel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='enclosure' type='video/mp4' href='http://www.blogger.com/video-play.mp4?contentId=b7dee7ca1c2b85ec&amp;type=video%2Fmp4' length='0'/><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/5425970336934549574/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=5425970336934549574' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/5425970336934549574'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/5425970336934549574'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2009/09/quick-update.html' title='Quick Update'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Sp_WEYOD_tI/AAAAAAAAAT4/7skkd0iY43A/s72-c/Fingers.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-8402411080537290992</id><published>2009-06-22T10:13:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-22T10:26:23.810-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Comparisons</title><content type='html'>We were over at my parents house and mom was taking pictures (surprise, surprise) and I had to have her take some pictures of Bethany with dad's hand near her like they did when Mikayla was a baby just to compare the girls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Mikayla just a few days old:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Sj-gnvMGMZI/AAAAAAAAATY/GvenSB_hZ4c/s1600-h/Mikayla+271+%282%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 137px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Sj-gnvMGMZI/AAAAAAAAATY/GvenSB_hZ4c/s320/Mikayla+271+%282%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350171486881984914" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Bethany about a week old:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Sj-gncfX1vI/AAAAAAAAATQ/RtnCOHuQS3Q/s1600-h/Carson+Family+June+09+033.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Sj-gncfX1vI/AAAAAAAAATQ/RtnCOHuQS3Q/s320/Carson+Family+June+09+033.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350171481862559474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mikayla looks smaller to me, but she was actually bigger.  I suppose it's just that Bethany was two inches shorter so she looks fatter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;And finally, a family picture:&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/_M56_r0NsIp0/Sj-h-U4lBNI/AAAAAAAAATg/qEnCkCXVlEo/s1600-h/Carson+Family+June+09+009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Sj-h-U4lBNI/AAAAAAAAATg/qEnCkCXVlEo/s320/Carson+Family+June+09+009.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350172974469416146" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&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/2464173481696689303-8402411080537290992?l=bluetassel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/8402411080537290992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=8402411080537290992' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/8402411080537290992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/8402411080537290992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2009/06/comparisons.html' title='Comparisons'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Sj-gnvMGMZI/AAAAAAAAATY/GvenSB_hZ4c/s72-c/Mikayla+271+%282%29.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-2632947252793639778</id><published>2009-06-19T10:05:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-19T10:16:15.327-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Two weeks old already!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SjupyNAy4lI/AAAAAAAAAS4/2SUG-oJImDI/s1600-h/full+body+side.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SjupyNAy4lI/AAAAAAAAAS4/2SUG-oJImDI/s320/full+body+side.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349055662384144978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe it's already been two weeks!  We had Bethany's two week check-up yesterday morning.  She is now 8lbs 5oz and 20 1/2in - one pound and one inch bigger than when she was born.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SjupyLCfuVI/AAAAAAAAASw/B0OTGNnFmKk/s1600-h/full+body.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SjupyLCfuVI/AAAAAAAAASw/B0OTGNnFmKk/s320/full+body.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349055661854406994" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is still a happy and content baby - I just keep praying she stays that way!  We are busy, busy with these four crazy kids.  Bethany is keeping an eye on everything and everyone!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Sjupxiar9SI/AAAAAAAAASo/RzitA9ZM9OY/s1600-h/face+2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Sjupxiar9SI/AAAAAAAAASo/RzitA9ZM9OY/s320/face+2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349055650950018338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Isn't she just the cutest thing!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SjupxWw7hJI/AAAAAAAAASg/IA9KQRaUGPE/s1600-h/face.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SjupxWw7hJI/AAAAAAAAASg/IA9KQRaUGPE/s320/face.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5349055647822087314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Life is insane here - Next Tuesday I finally have my gallbladder surgery scheduled that was so rudely put off by this little bundle of joy last fall!  Nothing like spending June in recovery.  I'm so tired of trying to get my hospital schedule(s) to coincide with the rest of my family's and friends' schedules.  I pray that this is the last of the major stuff for awhile.  Too much "excitement."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2464173481696689303-2632947252793639778?l=bluetassel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/2632947252793639778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=2632947252793639778' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/2632947252793639778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/2632947252793639778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2009/06/two-weeks-old-already.html' title='Two weeks old already!'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SjupyNAy4lI/AAAAAAAAAS4/2SUG-oJImDI/s72-c/full+body+side.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-7002295645417529698</id><published>2009-06-07T07:20:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-06-07T08:12:11.310-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome, Bethany!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Siu5T2eYilI/AAAAAAAAASQ/rRNNF79FkLg/s1600-h/Close+Up+7June.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Siu5T2eYilI/AAAAAAAAASQ/rRNNF79FkLg/s320/Close+Up+7June.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344569133496830546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yup, she finally decided to make her debut - though as slow as the induction started out, I didn't know if she would ever come!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Birth Story&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Philip and I went in for my doctor's appointment Wednesday morning and found out that I was 1-2cm dilated and about 40% effaced.  That meant he would send us on over to the hospital for the induction.  YES!  Since it was not scheduled it took forever to actually get into a room.  By about 3:30pm we were in a room and going through all the paperwork and 1000 questions to get things going.  They started the pitocin about 4:30pm, but it was slow to do anything.  Somewhere early on they had broken my water, but it didn't do too much of anything either.  By 11:00pm I was finally 4cm and the contractions were harder and quicker.  I finally made the decision to experience a labor and delivery with an epidural.  That was the scariest part for me - needles in the spine don't set well with me.  It was in by about 11:30 (I was now 5cm) and took another hour to get it evened out (it was mostly on my right side).  As soon as the epideral was doing what it was supposed to it was time to push - 5 cm in that hour!  Took another 20 to 25 minutes for the doctor to get there and get everything set up.  Good thing I had an epidural and could sort of ignore the urge to push . . . :)  One contraction and three pushes later Bethany was here!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Stats&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bethany Christine&lt;br /&gt;Born at 12:56am June 4, 2009&lt;br /&gt;7lbs 5.4oz&lt;br /&gt;19 1/2 inches&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Siu5T0hGP9I/AAAAAAAAASY/xsQeYezP-ZA/s1600-h/Open+Eyes+6+June.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Siu5T0hGP9I/AAAAAAAAASY/xsQeYezP-ZA/s320/Open+Eyes+6+June.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344569132971343826" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Epidural&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having needles shoved into my spine was scary!  Not being able to lift my legs of my own volition was a very strange situation to be in.  Feeling pain on my left side, but not on my right side?  Another very weird and annoying sensation.  Going from 5cm to 10cm under the influence of pitocin in an hour and not feeling the intense pain was strange because I knew exactly what I should have been feeling!  But it was nice because I wasn't exhausted and cross-eyed from the pain by the time the pushing came.  Choosing to push or not push as opposed to the body taking over and making me push was also quite odd.  It was great to be able to pay attention to what was going on around me during and after the pushing since I wasn't completely overwhelmed by what my body was doing.  For the first time in four deliveries I heard the doctor and nurses communicating.  After Bethany was here I was able to hear what the nursed were doing with her.  I heard them going through the Apgars, weighing her, measuring her length and head and chest and sucking the gunk out of her, etc.   After the doctor and n&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Siu5Tu1vgmI/AAAAAAAAASI/6MzoL-vjMFc/s1600-h/Full+Body+7+June.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Siu5Tu1vgmI/AAAAAAAAASI/6MzoL-vjMFc/s320/Full+Body+7+June.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344569131447321186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ursed left I was more aware (not distracted from pain), but also more tired (I'm assuming some of those endorphins from an unmedicated delivery weren't there to keep me wired).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Conclusion&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have now experienced a long, unmedicated birth, a very quick unmedicated birth, an unmedicated induction, and a medicated induction.  All have their positives and negatives.  I am very glad to have had all the experiences of an unmedicated birth, but overall, this one with the epidural was a comparatively pleasant way to end the baby-birthing time of my life.  At least that's the plan - God has funny ways of changing my plans by going against medical impossibilities, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;The Baby - Good or not so good . . .&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;GOOD!  So far anyways.  I have to wake her up at night to feed her, though for her first morning bottle about 6:30 she is actually starting to get a little wiggly for.  She'll be awake for short times in between bottles during the mornings.  Late afternoons are her most wide awake times.  She is a very content baby.  Thank you, Lord!  But as anyone with kids knows - just as you get used to something it usually changes.  So we'll see.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2464173481696689303-7002295645417529698?l=bluetassel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/7002295645417529698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=7002295645417529698' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/7002295645417529698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/7002295645417529698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2009/06/welcome-bethany.html' title='Welcome, Bethany!!'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Siu5T2eYilI/AAAAAAAAASQ/rRNNF79FkLg/s72-c/Close+Up+7June.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-4485725170949751384</id><published>2009-05-13T14:20:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T14:40:41.588-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Most Important News of the Day:</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 153, 255);font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;HAPPY 4th BIRTHDAY, MIKAYLA!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Four years ago right now I was in my Midwife's office for my final appointment at 40wks and 4days and being scheduled for an induction the next Monday at 41wks.  Three hours later I began feeling contractions and less than three hours after that we met Mikayla face-to-face!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mikayla Just a Couple Days Old&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SgsfXZWoftI/AAAAAAAAASA/OC40rAZZfd4/s1600-h/Mikayla+271+%282%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 137px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SgsfXZWoftI/AAAAAAAAASA/OC40rAZZfd4/s320/Mikayla+271+%282%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335392670353751762" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: times new roman;"&gt;Today&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; we got up and ready as usual, then Mommy, Mikayla, Aiden and Tristan headed out and spent a few hours at Lake Eola.  We played on the playground for awhile, ate a picnic lunch, and fed a bunch of geese, ducks, herons, and pigeons bread and old hamburger buns.  I was going to post pictures from the morning, but I forgot the real camera and all the pictures I took are on my phone.  I didn't realize until I got home that the card that the pictures are on in the phone is a tiny one that needs an adapter to upload to the computer.  The adapter wasn't packed where I thought it would have been for the move soooo I have no pictures of our fun day out.  Oops!  I will find the adapter or get a new one soon.   But it was fun, nonetheless! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 153, 255);font-size:180%;" &gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;HAPPY 4th BIRTHDAY, MIKAYLA!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"&gt;We love you, Mikayla!&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/2464173481696689303-4485725170949751384?l=bluetassel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/4485725170949751384/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=4485725170949751384' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/4485725170949751384'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/4485725170949751384'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2009/05/most-important-news-of-day.html' title='The Most Important News of the Day:'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SgsfXZWoftI/AAAAAAAAASA/OC40rAZZfd4/s72-c/Mikayla+271+%282%29.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-3701736567541763339</id><published>2009-05-13T13:36:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2009-05-13T14:19:46.177-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Other Stuff</title><content type='html'>Why is it that nothing really seems to happen, and then lots of stuff has to happen at once? Okay, so the first set of pictures is actually from the end of March, but I forgot where I put them initially (blame the preggo-brain). These pictures are from the 3D/4D ultrasound I had done at about 29 weeks pregnant. Weird, but cool!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Bethany's Profile&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/_M56_r0NsIp0/SgsUmPEgAoI/AAAAAAAAAQw/X5YLucUXmk0/s1600-h/09-03-24-Profile.BMP"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 226px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SgsUmPEgAoI/AAAAAAAAAQw/X5YLucUXmk0/s320/09-03-24-Profile.BMP" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335380830663475842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bethany Smiling&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/_M56_r0NsIp0/SgsUmm-GB5I/AAAAAAAAAQ4/CNrxk8YNhZQ/s1600-h/09-03-24+Smiling.BMP"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 226px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SgsUmm-GB5I/AAAAAAAAAQ4/CNrxk8YNhZQ/s320/09-03-24+Smiling.BMP" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335380837079058322" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bethany's Legs Crossed&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/_M56_r0NsIp0/SgsUmwSUuYI/AAAAAAAAARA/P421geg63Aw/s1600-h/09-03-24-legs+crossed.BMP"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 226px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SgsUmwSUuYI/AAAAAAAAARA/P421geg63Aw/s320/09-03-24-legs+crossed.BMP" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335380839579826562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bethany Has Hair!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SgsUnJTpDdI/AAAAAAAAARI/TAR4n8S7zx0/s1600-h/09-03-24+Hair.BMP"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 226px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SgsUnJTpDdI/AAAAAAAAARI/TAR4n8S7zx0/s320/09-03-24+Hair.BMP" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335380846296239570" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next - Last Friday was a big day for Bethany and Mommy, as well.  Friday noon was our latest OB visit.  The past month or so the doctor's have been watching her because she's been lying transverse (side-to-side).  As of last Friday at 35wks 5days, she was still transverse so I am being scheduled for a version (they will try to manually turn her head down by grabbing her through my tummy and turning her - ouch!) and induction on Thursday, May 21!  Yeah!  The end is in sight!  A good thing too because I am so ready to not be pregnant.  After four pregnancies in five years I'm soooo over it.  We cannot wait to meet Bethany!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then Friday evening my sister-in-law Stephanie picked me up and headed over to my mom's house to pick her up for a Metzler Girls Night Out . . . or so they told me.  We got to mom's and since she "wasn't ready yet" we went in to wait for her.   I opened the door to:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;SUPRISE!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SgsYzG-9XQI/AAAAAAAAARQ/3Cy8VbfrVks/s1600-h/Decorations.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SgsYzG-9XQI/AAAAAAAAARQ/3Cy8VbfrVks/s320/Decorations.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335385449877560578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stephanie had planned a Suprise Baby Shower for Bethany and I!!  I was completely shocked!  THANK YOU STEPHANIE!  We had a blast with many of the girls from our young married Sunday school class, Ladies Night Out girls and other family friends eating, opening gifts, playing games, eating some more, and just plain hanging out!  Thank you all who were able to come for making it such a special time!  Here's a few more pictures:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Diaper Cake&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/_M56_r0NsIp0/SgsanUaIGUI/AAAAAAAAARY/-t6K1c0bj9Y/s1600-h/Diaper+Cake.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SgsanUaIGUI/AAAAAAAAARY/-t6K1c0bj9Y/s320/Diaper+Cake.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335387446345996610" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some of the Gifts&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/_M56_r0NsIp0/Sgsanj2dnzI/AAAAAAAAARg/rfydbEM7tUo/s1600-h/Gifts.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Sgsanj2dnzI/AAAAAAAAARg/rfydbEM7tUo/s320/Gifts.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335387450491379506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Opening Gifts&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Sgsanx_pkWI/AAAAAAAAARo/aqB7BR5LFSI/s1600-h/Opening+Gifts.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Sgsanx_pkWI/AAAAAAAAARo/aqB7BR5LFSI/s320/Opening+Gifts.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335387454288007522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sign Stephanie Made&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SgsaoBDwFRI/AAAAAAAAARw/HKTB3GcMvpk/s1600-h/Sign.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SgsaoBDwFRI/AAAAAAAAARw/HKTB3GcMvpk/s320/Sign.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335387458331743506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can sort of see my pregnant belly&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SgsaodVOLUI/AAAAAAAAAR4/cZhcZewE9BA/s1600-h/Preggo+Shot.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SgsaodVOLUI/AAAAAAAAAR4/cZhcZewE9BA/s320/Preggo+Shot.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5335387465921211714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2464173481696689303-3701736567541763339?l=bluetassel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/3701736567541763339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=3701736567541763339' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/3701736567541763339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/3701736567541763339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2009/05/other-stuff.html' title='Other Stuff'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SgsUmPEgAoI/AAAAAAAAAQw/X5YLucUXmk0/s72-c/09-03-24-Profile.BMP' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-3873490210946232831</id><published>2009-03-29T21:33:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T21:34:47.884-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Forgot to Add the Kids' Picture</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SdAvhHpomgI/AAAAAAAAAQo/DwYTXNk4M2o/s1600-h/Kids+in+March+2009.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SdAvhHpomgI/AAAAAAAAAQo/DwYTXNk4M2o/s320/Kids+in+March+2009.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318803405960419842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And, yes, Tristan has had his first real haircut since this picture!  Poor kid was getting ready to fly away with his hair!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2464173481696689303-3873490210946232831?l=bluetassel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/3873490210946232831/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=3873490210946232831' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/3873490210946232831'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/3873490210946232831'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2009/03/forgot-to-add-kids-picture.html' title='Forgot to Add the Kids&apos; Picture'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SdAvhHpomgI/AAAAAAAAAQo/DwYTXNk4M2o/s72-c/Kids+in+March+2009.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-7674490436708983930</id><published>2009-03-29T21:03:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-29T21:29:56.192-05:00</updated><title type='text'>30 Weeks and Counting</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SdAuN6aFpBI/AAAAAAAAAQI/z4K91LJmuKQ/s1600-h/30+weeks+2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SdAuN6aFpBI/AAAAAAAAAQI/z4K91LJmuKQ/s320/30+weeks+2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318801976476410898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SdAuNYQ2uVI/AAAAAAAAAQA/o7ZkVRx7tPg/s1600-h/30+Weeks.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 227px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SdAuNYQ2uVI/AAAAAAAAAQA/o7ZkVRx7tPg/s320/30+Weeks.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5318801967310879058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay - nothing really exciting happens in our lives.  It's just constant insanity with a 5-year-old, an almost 4-year-old, a 2-year-old, a pregnant mom, and crazy dad.  I definitely do not recommend having four kids in five years - doable, but not recommended.  :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What has happened the past couple months . . . Aiden and Tristan had birthdays - pictures, you ask?  I have no clue.  We were served foreclosure papers on the house we were renting the end of January.  We found out the Wednesday before Aiden's birthday that we had to move out of our rented house because they were putting it up for short sale on Monday morning.  We moved into a nicer, cheaper house in a better neighborhood that weekend (THANK YOU to all those who helped up move!)  Philip was ordained.  Pictures of that?  I have actually seen some of those and think I might have been given some on a DVD . . . somewhere.  I cannot get organized in this new house.  It's too overwhelming.  A couple weeks ago the whole family (us, my mom and dad, and my brother and his family) all went to my parents cabin in NC.  That was a blast!  Such a good family time - though we all missed having Sarah there.  Thankfully she was able to fly home this past week for her Spring break!  Love you, Sarah!  I'm looking to sign Aiden up next week for a summer free VPK (Voluntary Pre-Kindergarten) program at a preschool in the area.  Hopefully he'll enjoy it and it will give him a nine-week trial for kindergarten.  He is looking forward to school this fall - and loving the fact that he's the only who gets to go to big school so far.  Hopefully I can find a part-time VPK program for Mikayla to go to throughout the year.  Not holding my breath, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ummm.  I think that's about it.  It's already starting to get HOT in this silly state - highs in the low- to mid-eighties.  Thankfully the humidity is still fairly low so it's not absolutely miserable . . . yet.  That'll probably come in the next month or so, though.  Ah, well.  Gotta love Florida.  But it is so good to be near part of our family.  Okay, I can't think of anything else to add of note.  Maybe next time - maybe not even another 10 weeks from now.  We'll see.  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2464173481696689303-7674490436708983930?l=bluetassel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/7674490436708983930/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=7674490436708983930' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/7674490436708983930'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/7674490436708983930'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2009/03/30-weeks-and-counting.html' title='30 Weeks and Counting'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SdAuN6aFpBI/AAAAAAAAAQI/z4K91LJmuKQ/s72-c/30+weeks+2.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-6631431630218129278</id><published>2009-01-20T19:03:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-20T19:07:58.726-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Yup - I'm pregnant . . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SXZmZM0wo7I/AAAAAAAAAP0/Pkl-dXK7zuc/s1600-h/Adjusted+20+week.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 174px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SXZmZM0wo7I/AAAAAAAAAP0/Pkl-dXK7zuc/s320/Adjusted+20+week.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5293530995145876402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess there is no denying that at 20 weeks, I am definitely pregnant.  I had Philip take this real quick Sunday (and it only took me two days to post it!) right at my halfway point.  So now I can start counting down until the due date.  I have my ultrasound on Friday so we're praying that this baby isn't shy!  I can't wait!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2464173481696689303-6631431630218129278?l=bluetassel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/6631431630218129278/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=6631431630218129278' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/6631431630218129278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/6631431630218129278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2009/01/yup-im-pregnant.html' title='Yup - I&apos;m pregnant . . .'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SXZmZM0wo7I/AAAAAAAAAP0/Pkl-dXK7zuc/s72-c/Adjusted+20+week.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-3983258799652889941</id><published>2009-01-10T08:58:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-10T08:59:09.443-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Update . . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SWd0HCFoWWI/AAAAAAAAAPE/h_3q0r7WM0U/s1600-h/Family+Jan+2009.png"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 153px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SWd0HCFoWWI/AAAAAAAAAPE/h_3q0r7WM0U/s320/Family+Jan+2009.png" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5289323951538329954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this little post is specifically for my sister-in-law, Lydia, who has been giving me a hard time for over a year now about how I haven't been doing ANY updates on this poor blog.   I'm just a lousy blogger - I hate the internet.  I really should get Philip to keep a blog for the family since he's an internet addict.  Like that will ever happen . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Update since November 4, 2007 when we put our house in Virginia up for sale:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   - minimum of 3 times a week, every week, I had to get three kids out of the house for at least an hour for people to come look - yet NO OFFERS!&lt;br /&gt;   - finally the end of January 2008 a couple looks at our house late one Friday afternoon and comes back for a second look that evening&lt;br /&gt;   - our realtor calls us while we're out and says we have an offer, which was so incredible close to what we were asking for with NO complications that we signed those papers about 10:00 the next morning with no counter-offer&lt;br /&gt;   - within four weeks we had signed the final sale papers and moved into our "new" rental house in Florida leaving Virginia in the morning with a temperature of about 20F to arrive in Florida the next morning to a temperature of about 75F&lt;br /&gt;   - in mid-June Philip rushed me to the ER at about 1:00am because I was in major pain - dx: gallbladder attack - what fun . . .  after meeting with a couple different surgeons, surgery is scheduled for October 2, 2008&lt;br /&gt;   - at a well-visit for me in early August I am referred to a cardiologist for weird symptoms - most of September is spent in either the cardiologists office or a surgeons office - or the allergist for Tristan&lt;br /&gt;   - Philip's family came to visit us in August - such a blast!  The kids still talk about when "the cousins" are coming again - the cousins are their favorite playmates&lt;br /&gt;   - the final day of September I go in for my pre-op junk to get ready for my surgery two days later - what fun . . . love getting poked and prodded&lt;br /&gt;   - October 1, 2008 the surgeon himself calls and says my surgery needs to be postponed about nine months - yup, the tests came back and said I was pregnant - oops!&lt;br /&gt;   - in December it was wonderful to actually spend Christmas with family for the first time in a number of years&lt;br /&gt;   - we spent New Years weekend in Georgia with Philip's immediate and extended family for a busy, but fun weekend - and now the kids are constantly talking about seeing the cousins again!  They absolutely love their North Carolina cousins and grandparents (sorry, aunts and uncles on both sides of the family kind of seem to get lost in the wonder of cousins and grandparents)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so I think that's a decent update on the past year for us.  The question of the year is how long will I take to update this thing again . . . ?  :P&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2464173481696689303-3983258799652889941?l=bluetassel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/3983258799652889941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=3983258799652889941' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/3983258799652889941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/3983258799652889941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2009/01/update.html' title='Update . . .'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/SWd0HCFoWWI/AAAAAAAAAPE/h_3q0r7WM0U/s72-c/Family+Jan+2009.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-2760082287389061782</id><published>2007-11-06T16:44:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-06T16:53:24.560-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Newest News . . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is our beautiful house:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&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/_M56_r0NsIp0/RzDhOfANbxI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/mv77hoO2zwM/s1600-h/100_0612-2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RzDhOfANbxI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/mv77hoO2zwM/s320/100_0612-2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5129847614531792658" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is our house as of about 4:15pm today:&lt;br /&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://bp2.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RzDhO_ANbyI/AAAAAAAAAKA/8aZxRvt5wp8/s1600-h/100_0610.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RzDhO_ANbyI/AAAAAAAAAKA/8aZxRvt5wp8/s320/100_0610.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5129847623121727266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Notice the difference?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please pray with us as we try to sell our house and follow the Lord's leading to Florida!&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/2464173481696689303-2760082287389061782?l=bluetassel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/2760082287389061782/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=2760082287389061782' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/2760082287389061782'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/2760082287389061782'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2007/11/newest-news.html' title='The Newest News . . .'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RzDhOfANbxI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/mv77hoO2zwM/s72-c/100_0612-2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-591217595828229895</id><published>2007-10-29T12:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-29T14:08:39.800-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mikayla and Tristan . . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;AND THEN THERE'S MIKAYLA . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isn't this just the picture of innocence?  She looks so sweet when she's sleeping.  You'd never believe the destruction she can leave in her wake just because she's so curious . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RyYhVvANbiI/AAAAAAAAAIA/CW7puHD4-a8/s1600-h/100_0580.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RyYhVvANbiI/AAAAAAAAAIA/CW7puHD4-a8/s320/100_0580.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126821883086204450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. . . and then you step back and take a look around her whether she's awake or asleep . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RyYhYfANbjI/AAAAAAAAAII/0Ta5Z4h4DBM/s1600-h/100_0579.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RyYhYfANbjI/AAAAAAAAAII/0Ta5Z4h4DBM/s320/100_0579.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126821930330844722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. . . and you understand why I am so tired of clothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RyYmAvANbsI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/qfLzKJOWzqg/s1600-h/100_0578.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RyYmAvANbsI/AAAAAAAAAJQ/qfLzKJOWzqg/s320/100_0578.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126827019867090626" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And why I now never head to the basement until I know she is asleep and/or have left a monitor right outside her bedroom door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RyYhb_ANblI/AAAAAAAAAIY/KqhlCkE1H9o/s1600-h/100_0577.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RyYhb_ANblI/AAAAAAAAAIY/KqhlCkE1H9o/s320/100_0577.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126821990460386898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Thankfully the entire dresser being emptied and pulled over only happened once.  But we went through about a month where I was folding and putting away one, two or three drawerfuls of clothes one to three times a day.  Got to love her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;TRISTAN&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has gotten at least as smart as our cat when it comes to food.  They both like people food, they both hang out under the table waiting for scraps to drop, and they have both found Mikayla's area to be the most profitable and will stand by her chair waiting for the stray piece of food to come their way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RyYhffANbmI/AAAAAAAAAIg/t9yWNKvTsto/s1600-h/100_0607.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RyYhffANbmI/AAAAAAAAAIg/t9yWNKvTsto/s320/100_0607.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126822050589929058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Tristan is, also, eager to be drinking lots of real milk instead of that nasty formula.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RyYqXvANbtI/AAAAAAAAAJY/8atW_ltW7Wk/s1600-h/100_0609.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RyYqXvANbtI/AAAAAAAAAJY/8atW_ltW7Wk/s320/100_0609.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126831813050592978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And talk about trouble!  Guess where and when this picture was taken:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RyYqZfANbuI/AAAAAAAAAJg/xtavJsA-Ye0/s1600-h/100_0600.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RyYqZfANbuI/AAAAAAAAAJg/xtavJsA-Ye0/s320/100_0600.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126831843115364066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;You guessed it.  At the top of the stairs AFTER he climbed them by himself.  I came around the corner thinking he's awfully quiet and see him climbing that last step and start crawling to Mikayla's room after the stuffed animals.  I called his name and he turned and grinned at me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now everytime I turn around he's climbing up the steps.  Doesn't he just look too cute, though!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RyYjsPANboI/AAAAAAAAAIw/_WXWFJjNBEQ/s1600-h/100_0606.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RyYjsPANboI/AAAAAAAAAIw/_WXWFJjNBEQ/s320/100_0606.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126824468656516738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And Aiden and Tristan have found a new version of "Hide and Seek" that they love to play.  Aiden puts a blanket over Tristan's head . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RyYjtPANbpI/AAAAAAAAAI4/viDj4sVFCus/s1600-h/100_0599.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RyYjtPANbpI/AAAAAAAAAI4/viDj4sVFCus/s320/100_0599.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126824485836385938" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;. . . and Tristan pulls it off his head and Surprise!  he found Aiden!  They both laugh so hard when Tristan gets the blanket off his head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RyYjuPANbqI/AAAAAAAAAJA/QVZ-yjwIvp8/s1600-h/100_0598.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RyYjuPANbqI/AAAAAAAAAJA/QVZ-yjwIvp8/s320/100_0598.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126824503016255138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And here's two pictures specifically for Grandmommy and Grandma Chris of all three kids.  They were taken about three or four weeks ago.  It's so hard to get all three kids healthy, smiling and looking at the camera at the same time!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RyYtgPANbvI/AAAAAAAAAJo/F-5U0uIHfd8/s1600-h/100_0584.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RyYtgPANbvI/AAAAAAAAAJo/F-5U0uIHfd8/s320/100_0584.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126835257614364402" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RyYtgvANbwI/AAAAAAAAAJw/by_eeAeA3DY/s1600-h/100_0583.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RyYtgvANbwI/AAAAAAAAAJw/by_eeAeA3DY/s320/100_0583.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5126835266204299010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2464173481696689303-591217595828229895?l=bluetassel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/591217595828229895/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=591217595828229895' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/591217595828229895'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/591217595828229895'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2007/10/mikayla-and-tristan.html' title='Mikayla and Tristan . . .'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RyYhVvANbiI/AAAAAAAAAIA/CW7puHD4-a8/s72-c/100_0580.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-5682197150952631318</id><published>2007-09-21T12:45:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-09-21T13:41:15.378-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It's been awhile, but we're back now</title><content type='html'>August and into the beginning of September were some very long weeks for us.  Mikayla came down with a nasty cold and all three kids and Philip passed it back and forth for four or five weeks.  Hence, the long interval between blog entries.  That and me and the camera could never seem to get downstairs to the computer at the same time . . . explain that one.  :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So - Aiden and Mikayla love the Nemo Sprinkler, as I've mentioned before, but one day Mikayla decided she's had enough and got a little upset, so Aiden sat with her while I put the sprinkler and hose away and comforted her.  Isn't that sweet!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RvQFxve3EXI/AAAAAAAAAGg/hVKmm8AVCqk/s1600-h/100_0537.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RvQFxve3EXI/AAAAAAAAAGg/hVKmm8AVCqk/s320/100_0537.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112717829089988978" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aiden found out that he can get himself buckled and unbuckled from Tristan's car seat.  His next big feat - as you can see from this picture - was to figure out how to get from sitting in the carseat to standing up, still buckled in, of course.  Then he lays down on the floor and pretends to be turtle all curled up in his "shell."  He's a nut, I tell ya!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RvQKpve3EiI/AAAAAAAAAH4/6vv9FAO76is/s1600-h/100_0540.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RvQKpve3EiI/AAAAAAAAAH4/6vv9FAO76is/s320/100_0540.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112723189209174562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The boys have found a fun little hiding spot to play in - under Tristan's crib.  The first time they went under there to play while I was doing laundry, it actually took me a little looking to find them because they were actually being quiet.  They'll just sit under there and talk and laugh at each other.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RvQHsve3EdI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/lzfGauvnXGU/s1600-h/100_0558.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RvQHsve3EdI/AAAAAAAAAHQ/lzfGauvnXGU/s320/100_0558.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112719942213898706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Aiden found another fun way to play with Tristan that mommy's not too fond of, but Aiden is gentle about it.  Aiden will drag Tristan on the wood floors in a circle and Tristan gets the biggest kick out of it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RvQHs_e3EeI/AAAAAAAAAHY/_kvijPGNa0U/s1600-h/100_0570.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RvQHs_e3EeI/AAAAAAAAAHY/_kvijPGNa0U/s320/100_0570.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112719946508866018" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I just thought this was a cute close-up shot of Aiden taken while the boys were under the crib.  Aiden has gotten his hair cut since this picture (you can kind of see it in the previous picture) - well, basically it ended up getting buzzed.  Mommy wasn't too happy, but the hair will grow back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RvQHsfe3EcI/AAAAAAAAAHI/3Bno8SRBXBc/s1600-h/100_0564.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RvQHsfe3EcI/AAAAAAAAAHI/3Bno8SRBXBc/s320/100_0564.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112719937918931394" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then there's Mikayla, Miss Drama Queen, herself.  She and Aiden loved riding their bikes around the circle on the main level - till mommy kicked them downstairs because they were beginning to leave marks on my wood floors.  Mikayla poses for the camera during one spin while she was still not feeling well - as you can tell from the red, chapped cheeks and tired looking eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RvQFyve3EaI/AAAAAAAAAG4/cuT49E26nA0/s1600-h/100_0550.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RvQFyve3EaI/AAAAAAAAAG4/cuT49E26nA0/s320/100_0550.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112717846269858210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This picture reminds me of the school pictures we'd get taken in elementary school with the tilted head and dark background (except for the sock left in the bottom corner!).  One of the few times you'll see a semi-shy look on Mikayla!  Isn't she just too cute?!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RvQFy_e3EbI/AAAAAAAAAHA/lrCIVGSa1Cw/s1600-h/100_0555.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RvQFy_e3EbI/AAAAAAAAAHA/lrCIVGSa1Cw/s320/100_0555.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112717850564825522" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tristan is wearing me out already.  In the past couple of days he has begun learning the word, "No!"  He keeps crawling over to the gas fireplace and grabs the stones out and tries to put them in his mouth.  He gets popped on the hand, which makes him cry, of course, and put somewhere else, but he immediately turns around and tries to grab the stones again!  Stubborn little boy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He started crawling at six months and two days old and within a week was starting to pull up on stuff.  This is a picture of the very first time he pulled up on anything.  He managed to get his feet under him by holding onto his carseat.  Within a couple days, we had the morning wake up call of him figuring out how to stand up in his crib and getting stuck because he didn't know how to get back down.  Too funny!!  It only took one time of being shown how to get back down for him to learn that, though (now why can't he learn "No" in one time?).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RvQHtPe3EfI/AAAAAAAAAHg/VU3FR_k48BA/s1600-h/Tristan+Standing+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RvQHtPe3EfI/AAAAAAAAAHg/VU3FR_k48BA/s320/Tristan+Standing+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112719950803833330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is Tristan's favorite place to stand up.  He just loves standing at the little window by the front door and looking outside.  And there's usually enough traffic to keep him occupied for a little while.  Unfortunately, when he turns around he sees the stairs right there and those are just too compelling.  He is already trying to climb up them - and not having too much success.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RvQIUve3EgI/AAAAAAAAAHo/g3z1L8_5Q00/s1600-h/100_0576.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RvQIUve3EgI/AAAAAAAAAHo/g3z1L8_5Q00/s320/100_0576.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112720629408666114" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And finally, a close-up of Tristan taken on one of his ventures to try and climb up the stairs.  another adorable baby.  (No, I'm not partial at all!)  I love how he's got his tongue between his gums - he was still working on two teeth coming through.  I can't remember if the first one had made it's appearance at this point or not, but both his bottom teach are through now and he loves sticking his tongue out and feeling them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RvQIU_e3EhI/AAAAAAAAAHw/kpvMKtJPawk/s1600-h/Tristan+at+Steps.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RvQIU_e3EhI/AAAAAAAAAHw/kpvMKtJPawk/s320/Tristan+at+Steps.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112720633703633426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2464173481696689303-5682197150952631318?l=bluetassel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/5682197150952631318/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=5682197150952631318' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/5682197150952631318'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/5682197150952631318'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2007/09/its-been-awhile-but-were-back-now.html' title='It&apos;s been awhile, but we&apos;re back now'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RvQFxve3EXI/AAAAAAAAAGg/hVKmm8AVCqk/s72-c/100_0537.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-3311149513528212934</id><published>2007-07-30T19:53:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-30T20:10:45.310-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The boys . . . all three</title><content type='html'>In a way, Aiden and Philip are soooo much alike - as soon as you put a movie in they are totally into it and nothing can drag their attention away.  But I can't say that I've seen Philip all dressed up in his "soldier" stuff and ready to help fight with the movie characters any time recently.  Aiden is all suited up with his breastplate and shield (on his back to protect him from the enemies behind him, I guess), and sword at the ready while watching &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Pirates of the Caribbean&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Rq6JlxSWKUI/AAAAAAAAAGA/WstWNs_KoEs/s1600-h/100_0532.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Rq6JlxSWKUI/AAAAAAAAAGA/WstWNs_KoEs/s320/100_0532.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093159510581061954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;But daddy is most certainly ready to play with Aiden and "die" a few times to Aiden's sword.  Aiden had to pose with his "kill" (note daddy's tongue hanging out to alert Aiden that he is "dead") for mommy's camera.  :P  What is it with boys and their swordplay?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Rq6JmRSWKVI/AAAAAAAAAGI/8sKNGTqs-_A/s1600-h/100_0536.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Rq6JmRSWKVI/AAAAAAAAAGI/8sKNGTqs-_A/s320/100_0536.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093159519170996562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And then there's Tristan.  He finally got the whole sitting up thing.  He's been close for a couple weeks, but would always over correct when he started to wobble and go flying the other way.  But on Saturday it finally clicked.  He can sit up and play with toys in both hands and watch people all around him.  And mommy actually got a picture of him grinning - not that that's too hard to do with such a happy baby.  Can you believe he will be six months old on Sunday???&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Rq6JoxSWKWI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qvTZluzIVnk/s1600-h/100_0542.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Rq6JoxSWKWI/AAAAAAAAAGQ/qvTZluzIVnk/s320/100_0542.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5093159562120669538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2464173481696689303-3311149513528212934?l=bluetassel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/3311149513528212934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=3311149513528212934' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/3311149513528212934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/3311149513528212934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2007/07/boys-all-three.html' title='The boys . . . all three'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Rq6JlxSWKUI/AAAAAAAAAGA/WstWNs_KoEs/s72-c/100_0532.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-1505714339081146393</id><published>2007-07-14T10:22:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-14T10:51:00.871-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Mid-July Already???</title><content type='html'>So I went to add some more pictures this morning thinking I'd just posted a week ago.  I had no clue it's been two weeks since I put up pictures!!  Where has the time gone????  I guess I lost more time than I thought with sick kids.  Ah, well.  Seems as though everyone's doing better now, thank God!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We spent a number of days outside this week - early in the morning before it got too warm.  Even going outside by 9:00, Tristan and Mikayla turned red from head to toe very quickly!  Poor fair skinned kids.  :P  While the older two would run around, Tristan and I would hang out on the front porch and practice his sitting.  Sometimes he does pretty good as in this picture:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RpjsOSGUTMI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Oo4eS3LZ488/s1600-h/100_0520.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RpjsOSGUTMI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Oo4eS3LZ488/s320/100_0520.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5087075509235633346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Other times he would start falling and try to correct himself and over-correct and go flying the other way!  Here he was trying to wave for the camera because he knew I'd be posting these for all the grandparents to see and he wanted to say "Hi!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RpjsOyGUTNI/AAAAAAAAAFg/_sdblf9w_SY/s1600-h/100_0521.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RpjsOyGUTNI/AAAAAAAAAFg/_sdblf9w_SY/s320/100_0521.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5087075517825567954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Thank you, Grandmommy and Granddaddy for the sprinkler!  We absolutely love it!  Especially with the hot weather we've been having.  Aiden, in particular, loves getting wet, and it wasn't too long before he found out that orange clay turns into this fun orange mud to play in when it gets wet.  He colored himself orange all over his face and tummy before finishing playing!  Unfortunately my batteries died - of course.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RpjsPiGUTOI/AAAAAAAAAFo/YGY7YyA5WGI/s1600-h/100_0524.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RpjsPiGUTOI/AAAAAAAAAFo/YGY7YyA5WGI/s320/100_0524.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5087075530710469858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;We also found some wildlife hanging out underneath our front steps - a snail!  Mikayla liked seeing it, but got bored pretty quickly.  Aiden, on the other hand, watched it and tried playing with it for quite awhile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RpjsPyGUTPI/AAAAAAAAAFw/EbKsjQpspcg/s1600-h/100_0529.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RpjsPyGUTPI/AAAAAAAAAFw/EbKsjQpspcg/s320/100_0529.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5087075535005437170" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here's a picture of our friend, Mr. Snail.  The shell is about an inch in diameter.  I couldn't believe how big it was, because I have never seen a snail bigger than maybe a quarter inch in diameter before.  Pretty cool!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RpjsQCGUTQI/AAAAAAAAAF4/aUuhP-daVng/s1600-h/100_0526.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RpjsQCGUTQI/AAAAAAAAAF4/aUuhP-daVng/s320/100_0526.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5087075539300404482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2464173481696689303-1505714339081146393?l=bluetassel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/1505714339081146393/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=1505714339081146393' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/1505714339081146393'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/1505714339081146393'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2007/07/mid-july-already.html' title='Mid-July Already???'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RpjsOSGUTMI/AAAAAAAAAFY/Oo4eS3LZ488/s72-c/100_0520.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-9168259760800328339</id><published>2007-06-29T14:00:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-29T14:32:32.019-05:00</updated><title type='text'>(Grand)Mommy Scares, Milestones, and Mysteries</title><content type='html'>Here's something to add to your blog, Lydia, about scaring Grandmommy.  Can you tell where this picture was taken of our dear Mikayla?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RoVYKOk6xjI/AAAAAAAAAEg/e_uKnBVpw3s/s1600-h/stairs+2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RoVYKOk6xjI/AAAAAAAAAEg/e_uKnBVpw3s/s320/stairs+2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081564687292352050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yup - you guess it!  Mikayla was at the top of the stairs . . . on the outside of the steps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RoVYKek6xkI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Q29sEpTpQ2Y/s1600-h/stairs+1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RoVYKek6xkI/AAAAAAAAAEo/Q29sEpTpQ2Y/s320/stairs+1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081564691587319362" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The conversation that day between Philip and I ran something like:&lt;br /&gt;Angela: Philip, come see where your daughter is.&lt;br /&gt;Philip: Up the stairs?&lt;br /&gt;Angela: Yeah.&lt;br /&gt;Philip: Well, at least she can't make the turns.&lt;br /&gt;Angela: *laugh* That's what you think . . . come see . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And about those blessings that God sends.  This one is a milestone blessing.  I told the kids yesterday that we could go play with bubbles outside and the prospect inspired Aiden.  Before I knew it he had his pajamas and diaper off, and his underwear, shirt, shorts, socks and shoes on, and bubbles in hand.  Completely dressed from head to toe all by himself.  He is growing up!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RoVYK-k6xlI/AAAAAAAAAEw/TMJi8hA0uwM/s1600-h/aiden+2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RoVYK-k6xlI/AAAAAAAAAEw/TMJi8hA0uwM/s320/aiden+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081564700177253970" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Now for the mystery . . .  Can you guess which of the boys is which??  They are both about four and a half months old in these pictures, so of course, I had to take pictures of them in the same outfit.  :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RoVZDuk6xmI/AAAAAAAAAE4/dilADam2ds8/s1600-h/tristan+7.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RoVZDuk6xmI/AAAAAAAAAE4/dilADam2ds8/s320/tristan+7.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081565675134830178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RoVZD-k6xnI/AAAAAAAAAFA/KeO0hUwPl4E/s1600-h/baby+aiden+9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RoVZD-k6xnI/AAAAAAAAAFA/KeO0hUwPl4E/s320/baby+aiden+9.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081565679429797490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first one is Tristan and the second one is Aiden.   I thought they looked very much alike until I actually put the pictures side by side and then boy do they look different!!  A number of times in the past week or so Tristan has so looked to me like Brandon.  At least I think it's Brandon's face out of the four Well's kids that I'm picturing at that age.  And although Aiden looks fatter than Tristan, we just had Tristan's four month doctor visit and he weighs  over a pound more (16lbs 12.5oz) than Aiden did (15lbs 7oz), and is over an inch shorter (24 1/2 in vs. 25 3/4in).  So  in theory, Tristan should look like the chubbier baby.  Kinda funny to me.  :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I was taking the pictures of Tristan he started moving (imagine that) and pulled the blanket on top of him so I started snapping pictures to see if I could get a cute one.  There are a couple that I thought were kind of cute, but the thing I didn't realize until I was searching for Aiden's four month pictures was that I had very similar pictures taken of Aiden, too!  So I thought I'd put them up, too.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RoVZEek6xoI/AAAAAAAAAFI/WJa1ViTS8h0/s1600-h/tristan+11.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RoVZEek6xoI/AAAAAAAAAFI/WJa1ViTS8h0/s320/tristan+11.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081565688019732098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                      Tristan at four and a half months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RoVZE-k6xpI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/V8tyuDMwwds/s1600-h/baby+aiden+3.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RoVZE-k6xpI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/V8tyuDMwwds/s320/baby+aiden+3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081565696609666706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;                                                         Aiden at four and a half months.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2464173481696689303-9168259760800328339?l=bluetassel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/9168259760800328339/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=9168259760800328339' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/9168259760800328339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/9168259760800328339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2007/06/grandmommy-scares-milestones-and.html' title='(Grand)Mommy Scares, Milestones, and Mysteries'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RoVYKOk6xjI/AAAAAAAAAEg/e_uKnBVpw3s/s72-c/stairs+2.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-133770963392168933</id><published>2007-06-19T19:07:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-19T19:57:46.473-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Cruise, Part 2 . . . Finally!</title><content type='html'>Well, the past week and a half has been long.  Last week was spent potty training, so the kids and I were stuck with very few toys on the main level of our house to be near the bathroom.  But the end result is that Aiden is potty trained during the day - nap time and everything!!  Then Saturday Mikayla woke up with a delightful fever and upper respiratory infection and Sunday Aiden's low-grade fever started.  Monday I was at the doctor with Aiden for an infected finger and low fever.  By late afternoon he was just laying on the floor with a fever of 103.5.  At 12:30am he woke up with a fever of 105.1 - thankfully Tylenol brought it down a little bit.  So, of course, we were back at the doctor today who then sent us to the hospital for a boatload of tests.  After four hours there, the results so far are inconclusive.  Pray that his infected finger will get better and that the fever will not go so high tonight. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for the cruise,  we had three ports.  The first was supposed to be Royal Caribbean's island, Cococay, Bahamas.  Due to the weather we were redirected to San Juan, P.R. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RnhyGfCoVXI/AAAAAAAAADo/b34SXKfGwvQ/s1600-h/2007+Cruise+060.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RnhyGfCoVXI/AAAAAAAAADo/b34SXKfGwvQ/s320/2007+Cruise+060.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5077934035597546866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My parents, my sister, Lindsey, and Philip and I checked out one of the ruined forts on the island and then we younger folk wandered around the shopping district for a little while.  From the top of the fort you could see so far across the island!  Beautiful!  Dad made my sister, Sarah, and I pose for a quick picture on one of the walls of the fort with our ship in the background.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RnhyGvCoVYI/AAAAAAAAADw/oxWdhDGSIPY/s1600-h/2007+Cruise+084.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RnhyGvCoVYI/AAAAAAAAADw/oxWdhDGSIPY/s320/2007+Cruise+084.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5077934039892514178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Our second port was St. Thomas.  Philip and I took the Blackbeard's Castle tour.  First they took us to a few of the hot spot overlooks and we got some beautiful pictures of the island.  The we went to Blackbeard's Castle which was a single gun tower that stood about thirty feet tall, was maybe a dozen feet in diameter, and was only named Blackbeard's Castle because Blackbeard had a vacation home on the island.  It was strictly for tourism purposes!  I, at least, did enjoy the history we learned about St. Thomas (I'm not so sure Philip really did . . .).  We again hit the shopping district - mainly to eat at a restaurant that we were told had more authentic St. Thomas cuisine.  Philip and I are so boring - neither of us are shoppers so we wander for maybe thirty minutes and then walk back to the ship.  :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom, dad, Sarah, Lindsey, Matt and Stephanie all rented a couple jeeps and wandered the island on their own.  I know they had an absolute blast - especially since mom and dad have always gone off the beaten path on vacations and found the most beautiful and fun places to visit.  I'm glad I wasn't driving though, because they drive on the opposite side of the road and I am sure I would have forgotten at least once!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RnhyHfCoVaI/AAAAAAAAAEA/fhDt5TXob_w/s1600-h/2007+Cruise+075.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RnhyHfCoVaI/AAAAAAAAAEA/fhDt5TXob_w/s320/2007+Cruise+075.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5077934052777416098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our third, and final, port was St. Martin.  Yet another beautiful island.  Philip and I figure we wouldn't mind too much if  God wanted us to move down to the Caribbean at some point in the future .  :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Rnhy_PCoVdI/AAAAAAAAAEY/CyoDeg0DY0g/s1600-h/001_25A.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Rnhy_PCoVdI/AAAAAAAAAEY/CyoDeg0DY0g/s320/001_25A.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5077935010555123154" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Here Philip and I did the Tiki Hut Snorkeling.  I was a little nervous because the last time I went snorkeling (at about age 13 in our pool in our backyard) I just about hyperventilated.  I could not breathe through the snorkel.  I jumped in and for a split second felt the same thing and came right up.  Then I stuck my face back in the water and had no more problems.  Yeah!!  It was pretty neat, though Philip was disappointed having grown up off the coast of Africa. Our pictures on the whole really didn't turn out all that great, but then pictures never really do, do they?  There were half a dozen or so ship wrecks to explore (all of modern boats that were sunk in the hurricane in 1995, I believe), three cannons to see that had been blown of one of the old forts in that same hurricane, some propellers, and of course lots of fish.  And lots of sea urchins - these spiny little animals were everywhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RnhyHvCoVbI/AAAAAAAAAEI/JEaAn1KmuHI/s1600-h/026_0A.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RnhyHvCoVbI/AAAAAAAAAEI/JEaAn1KmuHI/s320/026_0A.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5077934057072383410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think the coolest thing we saw was a sting ray!  If you look really close you can see his eye spots and his outline.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Rnhy-_CoVcI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/P0JqvzVrhLQ/s1600-h/021_5A.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Rnhy-_CoVcI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/P0JqvzVrhLQ/s320/021_5A.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5077935006260155842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So that's pretty much our trip in a nutshell.  It was so much fun!!  I would highly recommend cruising to anyone.  :P  Just don't take young kids.  I think I would have been a stress case watching out for our little kids constantly on the ship - not to mention a small living space with five people!!  Fortunately Grandmommy and Granddaddy watched the kids for us, and ooohhh were we blessed with a wonderful week away!  Our first time away over night by ourselves since Aiden was born! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, GRANDMOMMY AND GRANDDADDY!!!!&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/2464173481696689303-133770963392168933?l=bluetassel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/133770963392168933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=133770963392168933' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/133770963392168933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/133770963392168933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2007/06/cruise-part-2-finally.html' title='Cruise, Part 2 . . . Finally!'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RnhyGfCoVXI/AAAAAAAAADo/b34SXKfGwvQ/s72-c/2007+Cruise+060.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-722053887671623365</id><published>2007-06-06T15:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-08T16:46:12.523-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Cruisin' Fun!!</title><content type='html'>So exactly how am I supposed to put an eight day-seven night cruise and 798 pictures into a blog or two???? I'm gonna try to do it in two posts - partly because there's so much stuff and also because I'm still getting some pictures developed (and no - I did not take all the pictures - we all downloaded our cameras onto one cd to share). So this first post will just be focused on the ship itself. When I get the rest of the pictures developed I'll post about the ports.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This group picture was taken the last night the group of us ate dinner together so we could get a picture with our waiters as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Rmcbe_CoVMI/AAAAAAAAACU/aKwyIuyuiZc/s1600-h/100_4581.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Rmcbe_CoVMI/AAAAAAAAACU/aKwyIuyuiZc/s320/100_4581.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073053724388644034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;Back row (l-r) Adam and Angela (Adam was like a second brother growing up), our assistant waiter, Gomez, from India, Maurice from Jamaica our lead waiter, Sarah (my sister), Lindsey (Sarah's friend from college), Matt and Stephanie (my brother and sister-in-law), Larry (my dad).  Front row (l-r) Chris (my mom), Philip and Angela (or Angie for my family :P)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;This is our ship - The Mariner of the Seas - third largest on the water I believe I heard.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RmcbfPCoVNI/AAAAAAAAACc/GSOnuFW-x28/s1600-h/P1010051.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RmcbfPCoVNI/AAAAAAAAACc/GSOnuFW-x28/s320/P1010051.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073053728683611346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We began our day with beautiful sunrises off our balcony . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RmcbgPCoVOI/AAAAAAAAACk/MTggdMO6H68/s1600-h/100_0368.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RmcbgPCoVOI/AAAAAAAAACk/MTggdMO6H68/s320/100_0368.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073053745863480546" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;. . . and everyone ended their day with some sort of animal made out of towels done by their stateroom attendant, and usually the animal was wearing sunglasses or some other item you left in your room.  This monkey is wearing the second place silver medal that six of our group won in the volleyball tournament held on board the ship on the basketball court.  We also had a different group of six play in the dodgeball tournament - we didn't do nearly so well.  :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RmcbgfCoVPI/AAAAAAAAACs/AHlqX-bZaAs/s1600-h/100_4583.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RmcbgfCoVPI/AAAAAAAAACs/AHlqX-bZaAs/s320/100_4583.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073053750158447858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The volleyball champs: (l-r) Stephanie, Lindsey, Sarah, Chris, Adam, and Matt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RmcbjPCoVQI/AAAAAAAAAC0/_EpW4BquubU/s1600-h/2007+Cruise+022.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RmcbjPCoVQI/AAAAAAAAAC0/_EpW4BquubU/s320/2007+Cruise+022.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073053797403088130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The  dining room was three levels with this huge chandelier hanging in the center.   Our table was on the main level near a window.  An awesome view to eat dinner by!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Rmc8CPCoVTI/AAAAAAAAADI/zHdbp6_x_8U/s1600-h/HPIM3732.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Rmc8CPCoVTI/AAAAAAAAADI/zHdbp6_x_8U/s320/HPIM3732.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073089514351121714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;For entertainment we could go to an ice show done on a rink about 1/4 the size of a normal one (below), or attend the Savoy Theater and see the ship's dancers and singers or a comedian or two, or go to the Lotus Lounge for Bingo, or hit the casinos, or go swimming in one of three pools (one adults only), or lounge in one of three  large hot tubs or two jacuzzi's, or head to Seven Hearts on the 14th floor and play some card or board games, or . . . I could go on and on.  There was always something going on and always somewhere you could get some of the best food in the world. . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Rmc8CfCoVUI/AAAAAAAAADQ/EABy7rY9EEk/s1600-h/2007+Cruise+106.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Rmc8CfCoVUI/AAAAAAAAADQ/EABy7rY9EEk/s320/2007+Cruise+106.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073089518646089026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. . . including a midnight buffet one night where the chefs had spent hours carving ice, chocolate, fruit, meat, vegetables, etc.  They opened it from 11:30pm to 12:30am to view and take pictures, and then it was open from 12:30am to 1:30am to eat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Rmc8CvCoVVI/AAAAAAAAADY/Nr4li-OshEo/s1600-h/100_9881.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Rmc8CvCoVVI/AAAAAAAAADY/Nr4li-OshEo/s320/100_9881.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073089522941056338" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if you ever were confused as to what time it was, there were half a dozen clocks showing the current times from around the world.  We HAD to get this picture because who would have guessed that one of the clocks would read from Dakar!!  Too cool!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Rmc8C_CoVWI/AAAAAAAAADg/Y-3wFp4nc-4/s1600-h/100_0486.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Rmc8C_CoVWI/AAAAAAAAADg/Y-3wFp4nc-4/s320/100_0486.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073089527236023650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The ship was positively huge!!  I guess it has to be with about 5000 people aboard (about 3500 guests and 1500 staff).  It was an amazing experience.  And the ports were fun, too.  I'll share a little about where we went in the next blog when I get the rest of those pictures.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2464173481696689303-722053887671623365?l=bluetassel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/722053887671623365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=722053887671623365' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/722053887671623365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/722053887671623365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2007/06/cruisin-fun.html' title='Cruisin&apos; Fun!!'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Rmcbe_CoVMI/AAAAAAAAACU/aKwyIuyuiZc/s72-c/100_4581.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-6633247128435156096</id><published>2007-05-24T08:54:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-24T09:43:34.131-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Milestones . . .</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RlWiwVJqvtI/AAAAAAAAAB8/fb-oHHyXKbg/s1600-h/100_0354+b.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RlWiwVJqvtI/AAAAAAAAAB8/fb-oHHyXKbg/s320/100_0354+b.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5068135906870476498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RlWiw1JqvuI/AAAAAAAAACE/DUIZjfqyAN0/s1600-h/100_0355.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RlWiw1JqvuI/AAAAAAAAACE/DUIZjfqyAN0/s320/100_0355.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5068135915460411106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can roll over from my back to my front (and sometimes by accident I roll back over to my back).  I did it one time a week ago on the 15th, but now I do it every time mommy puts me on my back.  And that means I sleep on my tummy now, too.  Or I try to - it's still kind of weird feeling for me to sleep on my tummy when I've been sleeping on my back for so long so I fuss, but mommy is making me get used to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RlWixlJqvvI/AAAAAAAAACM/Bn7JZ7p3zbo/s1600-h/100_0343+%282%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RlWixlJqvvI/AAAAAAAAACM/Bn7JZ7p3zbo/s320/100_0343+%282%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5068135928345313010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;And mommy also started feeding me this disgusting stuff she calls rice cereal because she says the formula seemed to be starting to irritate my tummy.  Mommy is hoping that adding some cereal will help my tummy to feel better.  I'm not so sure about that, though, it's gross!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2464173481696689303-6633247128435156096?l=bluetassel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/6633247128435156096/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=6633247128435156096' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/6633247128435156096'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/6633247128435156096'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2007/05/milestones.html' title='Milestones . . .'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RlWiwVJqvtI/AAAAAAAAAB8/fb-oHHyXKbg/s72-c/100_0354+b.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-3602546659700224157</id><published>2007-05-18T09:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-18T10:41:58.086-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Little Miss is Growing Up</title><content type='html'>I can't believe how much the Little Miss (Priss) has grown up!  Two years ago,  almost exactly my mom was taking this picture of tiny little Mikayla Joy.  She was about five days old when Grandpa Larry showed us she was hardly bigger than his hand.  Thank you, Lord, for a healthy baby girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Rk3ABlJqvoI/AAAAAAAAABU/FyTrtkMXAjw/s1600-h/Mikayla+271+%282%29.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Rk3ABlJqvoI/AAAAAAAAABU/FyTrtkMXAjw/s320/Mikayla+271+%282%29.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5065916289246740098" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Then a year later Grandma Chris holds Mikayla at her first birthday.  Mikayla's grown quite a bit.  Such cute kids.  :P  Thank you, Lord, for two happy kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Rk3AD1JqvpI/AAAAAAAAABc/pjLwfSrRGFM/s1600-h/015_9A.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Rk3AD1JqvpI/AAAAAAAAABc/pjLwfSrRGFM/s320/015_9A.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5065916327901445778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now we are at Mikayla's second birthday and she's really becoming a little girl rather than a baby.   She's into everything, onto everything, under everything, curious about everything - and is always talking about something or other!  Thank you, Lord, for protecting her a she learns about Your world. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Rk3AEVJqvqI/AAAAAAAAABk/7tztrYsQEVA/s1600-h/100_0327.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Rk3AEVJqvqI/AAAAAAAAABk/7tztrYsQEVA/s320/100_0327.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5065916336491380386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grandmommy, Granddaddy and Aunt Hannah came to celebrate Mikayla's second birthday.  Aiden and Mikayla both loved having Grandmommy and Granddaddy and Aunt Hannah around to play with.  Grandmommy and Granddaddy gave Mikayla a bicycle for her birthday and let me tell you it was a HUGE hit!  She and Aiden have fought over Aiden's bike since he got it.   As soon as she saw her bike she yelled, "My 'bikel'!"  Slightly excited to say the least.  And both kids had to try out the bike's together on the back porch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Rk3AFVJqvrI/AAAAAAAAABs/P_YAAcoyHHw/s1600-h/100_0328.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Rk3AFVJqvrI/AAAAAAAAABs/P_YAAcoyHHw/s320/100_0328.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5065916353671249586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Earlier in the week when we were talking about Mikayla's little birthday party, Philip informed me that "Mikayla" wanted a German chocolate birthday cake with coconut icing.  So mommy made "her" the cake "she" wanted.  Mikayla couldn't quite blow out the candles herself, though, so daddy helped - just a little bit.  And she really liked the cake, but mommy forgot to take more pictures.  :P  I'm slowly getting better about this whole taking pictures and posting them thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Rk3AF1JqvsI/AAAAAAAAAB0/LuiJpUukX30/s1600-h/100_0331.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Rk3AF1JqvsI/AAAAAAAAAB0/LuiJpUukX30/s320/100_0331.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5065916362261184194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Happy Second birthday, Mikayla!!  We love you!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2464173481696689303-3602546659700224157?l=bluetassel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/3602546659700224157/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=3602546659700224157' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/3602546659700224157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/3602546659700224157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2007/05/little-miss-is-growing-up.html' title='Little Miss is Growing Up'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/Rk3ABlJqvoI/AAAAAAAAABU/FyTrtkMXAjw/s72-c/Mikayla+271+%282%29.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-5917062903503752116</id><published>2007-05-09T08:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-09T08:45:10.249-05:00</updated><title type='text'>So Philip Had to Buy New Shoes . . .</title><content type='html'>Philip's old shoes were falling apart from working in them for a couple years now so it was time to break down and spend some money.  The kids are forever wearing my shoes around the house - they never have Philip's shoes to play with.  Well, Philip's new shoes came in the mail yesterday (most of you know how big a foot he has and thus has to special order all his shoes) and the kids just fell upon them fighting over who would wear them around the house first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aiden got them first (probably because he's bigger - even though Mikayla has the bigger, louder, more annoying scream):  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RkHNjGNqf0I/AAAAAAAAAA8/Jb3nT9SGd6o/s1600-h/100_0313+%282%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RkHNjGNqf0I/AAAAAAAAAA8/Jb3nT9SGd6o/s320/100_0313+%282%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5062553458988187458" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Mikayla, of course, did get her turn:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RkHNjmNqf1I/AAAAAAAAABE/7jMV5mawmoM/s1600-h/100_0314+%282%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RkHNjmNqf1I/AAAAAAAAABE/7jMV5mawmoM/s320/100_0314+%282%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5062553467578122066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The similarity between Philip's shoe length and either of the kids' height appears much greater in person, if you can imagine.  I think the shoes are about 1/3 of Aiden's height and 1/2 of Mikayla's height.  Regardless, you know we were dying of laughter when we saw them wearing Philip's boats.  :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I had to add a picture of Tristan to show his latest feat.  He gets himself about 3/4 of the way rolling over but gets stuck on his arm - partly because he always has to have that silly thumb in his mouth.  I should have taken a picture with Philip's shoe next to him.  I think there only would have been about six inches difference in the length of Tristan and the length of Philip's shoe!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RkHNj2Nqf2I/AAAAAAAAABM/rUD-QW9srzM/s1600-h/100_0305.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RkHNj2Nqf2I/AAAAAAAAABM/rUD-QW9srzM/s320/100_0305.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5062553471873089378" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On an aside, pray for Tristan.  I am seriously beginning to doubt he will make it out of babyhood because of his older brother and sister.  I'm forever having to rescue Tristan from them hitting him and stepping on him and throwing toys at him, etc.  Poor baby.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2464173481696689303-5917062903503752116?l=bluetassel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/5917062903503752116/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=5917062903503752116' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/5917062903503752116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/5917062903503752116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2007/05/so-philip-had-to-buy-new-shoes.html' title='So Philip Had to Buy New Shoes . . .'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RkHNjGNqf0I/AAAAAAAAAA8/Jb3nT9SGd6o/s72-c/100_0313+%282%29.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-7551110380338520798</id><published>2007-05-05T10:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-05-05T11:09:25.590-05:00</updated><title type='text'>"To be or not to be, that is the question" - about summer that is.</title><content type='html'>I don't know about where you live, but here the weather can't make up it's mind. We were outside on Wednesday morning in beautiful weather with the high hitting about 92. Then the past three days it's been rainy with highs in the high 50's to low 60's. What's up with that?? But we did take advantage of the beautiful days earlier this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RjyppmNqfvI/AAAAAAAAAAU/kcg43vBzWVQ/s1600-h/100_0301+%282%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RjyppmNqfvI/AAAAAAAAAAU/kcg43vBzWVQ/s320/100_0301+%282%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5061106613355183858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Aiden played baseball for most of the time we were outside.  For three years old, he amazes me with how often he actually hits the ball whether he throws it up himself or if Philip or I toss it to him.  A future Braves player, perhaps?  :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RjypqmNqfwI/AAAAAAAAAAc/yRTc4Pd-rAQ/s1600-h/100_0303.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RjypqmNqfwI/AAAAAAAAAAc/yRTc4Pd-rAQ/s320/100_0303.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5061106630535053058" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Mikayla has an addiction to chalk.  Whenever we play with chalk they are never out of her hands wherever she may wander.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RjyprGNqfxI/AAAAAAAAAAk/1uXUc2zr6XI/s1600-h/100_0297.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RjyprGNqfxI/AAAAAAAAAAk/1uXUc2zr6XI/s320/100_0297.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5061106639124987666" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Mommy does make her share them with Aiden, though, so he can color for the minute or two he'll put the ball and bat down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RjyprmNqfyI/AAAAAAAAAAs/XXgNw-H5Uwg/s1600-h/100_0295+%282%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RjyprmNqfyI/AAAAAAAAAAs/XXgNw-H5Uwg/s320/100_0295+%282%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5061106647714922274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Tristan "sat" up for a short bit to watch his brother and sister color, but . . .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RjypsWNqfzI/AAAAAAAAAA0/s6XFSOrm2y0/s1600-h/100_0299+%282%29.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RjypsWNqfzI/AAAAAAAAAA0/s6XFSOrm2y0/s320/100_0299+%282%29.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5061106660599824178" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;He soon fell asleep - with his thumb in his mouth.  He nearly always has a thumb in his mouth.  Doesn't matter if it's his right or left, one just must be in his mouth.  He loves to fall asleep outside on the porch with the wind blowing over him while the other two are playing.  Doesn't that sound heavenly?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2464173481696689303-7551110380338520798?l=bluetassel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/7551110380338520798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=7551110380338520798' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/7551110380338520798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/7551110380338520798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2007/05/to-be-or-not-to-be-that-is-question.html' title='&quot;To be or not to be, that is the question&quot; - about summer that is.'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_M56_r0NsIp0/RjyppmNqfvI/AAAAAAAAAAU/kcg43vBzWVQ/s72-c/100_0301+%282%29.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2464173481696689303.post-912507922625148578</id><published>2007-04-29T20:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-04-29T20:55:04.735-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Can You Believe I'm a Blogger???</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;So I got thinking - everyone's doing it, so why not me?  Actually, it finally hit me that since we live so far away from family and friends, this would be a good (and simple) way to keep up with everyone.  Now that we've figured out how to make our digital camera take more than about two pictures at a time, it should be real simple for me to upload pictures every once in awhile and tell a little about what we're up to.  And also, as the blog description mentions, I needed a way to help me remember who God is and what all He has done for me, since I so easily get caught up in the difficulties in life and gloss over the blessings.  Numbers 15:37-41 says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;    The Lord said to Moses, "Speak to the Israelites and tell them that throughout their generations they are to make tassels for the corners of their garments, and put a blue cord on the tassel at each corner.  These will serve as tassels for you to look at, so that you may remember all the Lord's commands and obey them and not become unfaithful by following your own heart and your own eyes.  This way you will remember and obey all My commands and be holy to your God.  I am the Lord your God who brought you out of the land of Egypt to be your God; I am the Lord your God."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this blog will kind of be my blue tassel in the spirit of the Israelites tassel with a blue cord wrapped around it - my reminder of God's many blessings and His call to holiness.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/2464173481696689303-912507922625148578?l=bluetassel.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/feeds/912507922625148578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=2464173481696689303&amp;postID=912507922625148578' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/912507922625148578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/2464173481696689303/posts/default/912507922625148578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bluetassel.blogspot.com/2007/04/can-you-believe-im-blogger.html' title='Can You Believe I&apos;m a Blogger???'/><author><name>Angela</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06086695049117886270</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry></feed>
