tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-45791116139788145702024-03-14T02:20:56.321-07:00Growing CrainsHeatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15744237717440758988noreply@blogger.comBlogger80125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4579111613978814570.post-24158191647706755882013-05-12T22:12:00.001-07:002013-05-13T08:20:33.575-07:00Mothers Day 2013<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
Happy Mothers Day! I had such a fantastic one this year. Thanks to a relaxing afternoon playing outside with the two little people that made me a Mommy. </div>
<div>
The kids made such sweet things at school this year. And their Daddy was extra good at hiding the gifts from me. So good at it that I was actually mad at the preschool because I thought that they had forgotten to send home Henry's since he was only there on Monday and Wednesday. </div>
<div>
Anyways. Tonight I was getting ready for yucky Monday and packing book bags and i found this book still hidden in her book bag. And it is the funniest thing I have ever read. My little girl knows me pretty well!</div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhakUEFRyDSi20f86carePrC6oxbM4PZgtVuL3u0pnhR-ZUt2Mh0JF1pNk7EtENgZLkvZlHdG8fu4phH1drvSPc7-suO_D9Z8ukjbl5-tZrmIMhd9vWMpkkqZYbhIzDcMOxBXntDsrugKC7/s640/blogger-image--1435825162.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhakUEFRyDSi20f86carePrC6oxbM4PZgtVuL3u0pnhR-ZUt2Mh0JF1pNk7EtENgZLkvZlHdG8fu4phH1drvSPc7-suO_D9Z8ukjbl5-tZrmIMhd9vWMpkkqZYbhIzDcMOxBXntDsrugKC7/s640/blogger-image--1435825162.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8JOfgNKdTbVMqteE1oolJyYVZDhMPIJSjGhg3RzkINJbSB9kOaxEFdJ6D-WoJ5SGuT5zmhUpnq8XetuHWf4fgBktiGMTvAGl3Vu40pwJLcZoBZbnEusnfV6LJsIr-mCKUPzSkvmQ0snM-/s640/blogger-image--1448715957.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8JOfgNKdTbVMqteE1oolJyYVZDhMPIJSjGhg3RzkINJbSB9kOaxEFdJ6D-WoJ5SGuT5zmhUpnq8XetuHWf4fgBktiGMTvAGl3Vu40pwJLcZoBZbnEusnfV6LJsIr-mCKUPzSkvmQ0snM-/s640/blogger-image--1448715957.jpg" /></a></div>
Notice Leroy in the picture!</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoTR2ImtPuGLkh5GGG2CV0uoYbxE6ZavM7ONS4wQFBKWKC66UCT9aI8JK6ly9YhAv7AN_e6kKFhK6hk7muRM-qq3xyjnEWT9TlHDXfW-B8EqdABkxctFzpUCnfFtepcJdYooZbTVkOSSgC/s640/blogger-image-932277898.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoTR2ImtPuGLkh5GGG2CV0uoYbxE6ZavM7ONS4wQFBKWKC66UCT9aI8JK6ly9YhAv7AN_e6kKFhK6hk7muRM-qq3xyjnEWT9TlHDXfW-B8EqdABkxctFzpUCnfFtepcJdYooZbTVkOSSgC/s640/blogger-image-932277898.jpg" /></a></div>
See, she really knows me! Notice all the shopping bags.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-hSjUMgAU9_klH1XXY4U97N538HKc7uZVV5pRruq0f6N-RTzae_MZ-Lv4nmgvP3jmNA17mlycxI83HQKkGLxyNUwU3J-T-fCsJo9FM9y4GrwHXq7KnMuDoBZY9tO8r2SNiXSzXuHrON7Q/s640/blogger-image-2137727978.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-hSjUMgAU9_klH1XXY4U97N538HKc7uZVV5pRruq0f6N-RTzae_MZ-Lv4nmgvP3jmNA17mlycxI83HQKkGLxyNUwU3J-T-fCsJo9FM9y4GrwHXq7KnMuDoBZY9tO8r2SNiXSzXuHrON7Q/s640/blogger-image-2137727978.jpg" /></a></div>
True statement.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXcszOA2DSWVSvZjdfniWjSZXxJ25AHDJKaxNROylWT22pLOcf_KT4qMRD1147yCT9hZ5mJ0l10HFTUMudusAYCrWXQgrQRoCdNuz9IemTEmfpmzxPboH36KxjccdGK_ns7Ee1CFAzW08R/s640/blogger-image--1063751087.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXcszOA2DSWVSvZjdfniWjSZXxJ25AHDJKaxNROylWT22pLOcf_KT4qMRD1147yCT9hZ5mJ0l10HFTUMudusAYCrWXQgrQRoCdNuz9IemTEmfpmzxPboH36KxjccdGK_ns7Ee1CFAzW08R/s640/blogger-image--1063751087.jpg" /></a></div>
Another truth. Again lots of bags.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgubmS55LDzQiCrIr4FfV4G6Dq8f4SbvKutp1xYIqtaPcCCt0vuXuZKioJi7knPOVVkVHZ0UY4K2IYGz3ufTViEb8VuWzW2ru99u3sO1GZixAikrckRXX_vQ1AukRAd8QPzH2P0VGpFVf1J/s640/blogger-image--1578429249.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgubmS55LDzQiCrIr4FfV4G6Dq8f4SbvKutp1xYIqtaPcCCt0vuXuZKioJi7knPOVVkVHZ0UY4K2IYGz3ufTViEb8VuWzW2ru99u3sO1GZixAikrckRXX_vQ1AukRAd8QPzH2P0VGpFVf1J/s640/blogger-image--1578429249.jpg" /></a></div>
Leroy made the shot again. Of course his room is the laundry room.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXxIRyIkMYbXS6LpbZU9RsrZBcP68vJmfnirbJ_3likmmQ6UEMkqT7IT8B_pQhX1WfLq3XaD7fWXbTdts72jhJb4WClpTvYfik46E-nBn0LYk-2C8qLFu05l7zJaUK5yYNWhyBtjnSxlYn/s640/blogger-image--1911506237.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXxIRyIkMYbXS6LpbZU9RsrZBcP68vJmfnirbJ_3likmmQ6UEMkqT7IT8B_pQhX1WfLq3XaD7fWXbTdts72jhJb4WClpTvYfik46E-nBn0LYk-2C8qLFu05l7zJaUK5yYNWhyBtjnSxlYn/s640/blogger-image--1911506237.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
Oh dear. That appears to be a drink in my hand.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
***Update from Monday morning. Rhiannon said that was a BOOK in my hand. Not a drink. :)</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFe5lqTzeH1G95XFGhAmUJiYgvf1KjGW0FYhKbtxxFiQAtSm9TPpu_n3ppUqSexOSC8G8RaNVGbZl0Nu2YhdxIRr9rorkTR-Nmb_-SgX9NBkPE9XL4Fr1bvkj35Rsh_gbKykJktCHflM4t/s640/blogger-image-1509555845.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFe5lqTzeH1G95XFGhAmUJiYgvf1KjGW0FYhKbtxxFiQAtSm9TPpu_n3ppUqSexOSC8G8RaNVGbZl0Nu2YhdxIRr9rorkTR-Nmb_-SgX9NBkPE9XL4Fr1bvkj35Rsh_gbKykJktCHflM4t/s640/blogger-image-1509555845.jpg" /></a></div>
I do really like my boots.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYG6qr_GEZ11VfSgMyzOjRqt5hLdIlj3Qo2LhwBnIOjSmta8TJqtNtRTqWDUHEnULbzCIOyBVe8N3jIs7TxYan1YjS3H7uG9ykzaZZfEn2dbmBKId-3C-cNyM5JmN-wxbx6bD5OFRjY96Z/s640/blogger-image--942062394.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYG6qr_GEZ11VfSgMyzOjRqt5hLdIlj3Qo2LhwBnIOjSmta8TJqtNtRTqWDUHEnULbzCIOyBVe8N3jIs7TxYan1YjS3H7uG9ykzaZZfEn2dbmBKId-3C-cNyM5JmN-wxbx6bD5OFRjY96Z/s640/blogger-image--942062394.jpg" /></a></div>
She makes some pretty darn good scrambled eggs.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFWmYgCnVOqyvAJfde38e7luDf3vHS3Fd43rOQf1n-VoeB6E51iNGPc6qZODr_fSBdDWd4P4pQB0LLv_dWPFPSq8jreehALxpgitaCpnoPPcpljrhS3kuErqICJWz8zkn7k1ddzj5EVN6q/s640/blogger-image--211565327.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFWmYgCnVOqyvAJfde38e7luDf3vHS3Fd43rOQf1n-VoeB6E51iNGPc6qZODr_fSBdDWd4P4pQB0LLv_dWPFPSq8jreehALxpgitaCpnoPPcpljrhS3kuErqICJWz8zkn7k1ddzj5EVN6q/s640/blogger-image--211565327.jpg" /></a></div>
And the tear jerker. My favorite.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
I shed a lot of tears today over their gifts. They were all so special. And such a reminder of how big they are getting. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
I am so thankful for them. And this man who helped to provide them.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxxZUAhVqhWs31KJB66lax-ndSJ8gbFmiSrfoa1Z-JzbBNbrgcHU59O2-4Xys2K4DF_kzDTQw0xad2NJSeBDHv5IsKuTrRnpDLoShPtx1spaQH8j7VG8frdm0FfoMdnVtn997QYplkBo4i/s640/blogger-image--2120168172.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxxZUAhVqhWs31KJB66lax-ndSJ8gbFmiSrfoa1Z-JzbBNbrgcHU59O2-4Xys2K4DF_kzDTQw0xad2NJSeBDHv5IsKuTrRnpDLoShPtx1spaQH8j7VG8frdm0FfoMdnVtn997QYplkBo4i/s400/blogger-image--2120168172.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br /></div>
Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15744237717440758988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4579111613978814570.post-28263956601593275202013-04-08T09:00:00.000-07:002013-04-08T09:00:01.442-07:00Our New "Baby"We may have lost our minds. Somewhere in between the planning and building and packing and everyday life, we decided that we needed to add another member to our family. And since Russ is against that being a human we decided that the addition would be a canine. <br />
And then the discussion was what kind. Russ was leaning towards a small dog and I wanted another chocolate lab. If I could have cloned my last chocolate lab Kramer, I truly would have. He was taken from us way before we were ready to say Goodbye and he would have been great with the kids. <br />
We decided a lab would be best. <br />
Then the discussion was do we get a puppy or an adult lab from a rescue group? <br />
A puppy would require training and years of puppy antics. However, a puppy could grow up with our kids and be accustomed to their noises and crazy behavior. <br />
An adult dog could have already been around and be good with kids. And would possibly already be house trained with exceptional manners. <br />
(As I'm typing this I'm trying to figure out why we got a puppy. . . )<br />
I had been following a breeder that raises lab puppies in her home on their farm with her family of 4 children. The puppies are loved and handled and treated like family. One litter was born on January 29 and when I learned that there was a chocolate male available my heart strings were pulled. <br />
I had been the one wanting an adult dog because I just wasn't sure I could handle the puppy years. Kramer I swear trained himself because I don't remember it being that difficult. <br />
But Jan 29 is an important date for us. That last week in January anyway. It was the week Russ asked me on our first date, it was the day we moved in together 2 years later, it was the day he proposed the next year, and it was when we discovered we were pregnant with Rhiannon. And I'm funny and I guess superstitious about signs. And I felt like this was our baby. <br />
So we reserved him. A puppy. A crazy chocolate lab puppy with two young kids and a brand new house. See? We have lost our minds. <br />
On March 23 we picked him in Lincolnton GA. We decided not to tell the kids and let it be a surprise. We told them as we were pulling in the driveway. <br />
We had the last pick of males so I thought it would most likely be the smallest. Kramer was the runt and that was perfectly fine with us because he will be primarily an inside dog. And that was what originally happened but when the first family arrived to pick up the largest male, the small one tugged on their sons pant leg and he stole his heart and earned a trip home instead of the "big guy". When we arrived, we met the largest puppy of the litter. Woah. But oh so sweet and gentle and calm. His Daddy is a 95 pound gentle giant and the breeder says our baby reminds her the most of Ruger (his Daddy). <br />
We decided to name him Prince Leroy. Leroy is a funny name I call the kids when they are acting crazy. And Rhiannon thinks that everyone should be royalty. So that is how we came to his name. His full registered name is Highlands Royal Prince Crain. Where we live is known as the Highlands in our county. The subdivision that we live in that used to be our family farm is named Lawson Highlands. <br />
So now we have a 10 week old newborn that requires all our attention but we love him so much. I call him my Chocolate Baby. I have called him "My Baby" a few times and Henry has expressed his dissatisfaction with that as he tells me that HE is my baby. Leroy can be my chocolate baby. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZF1QIA8cLDwRcznWtCTMCjMt-9Bt0IaWJtz0u7Va9p9EfOuMocM2AIJozy0nmetusSAEU-S_Vc5Tgv4Q0iieE4vfW25AENFCmu-C6dVlp2DePsjvsWQJt4hd1F-ispifkiH43AGrG214Y/s1600/483710_10152664884975487_1427621143_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZF1QIA8cLDwRcznWtCTMCjMt-9Bt0IaWJtz0u7Va9p9EfOuMocM2AIJozy0nmetusSAEU-S_Vc5Tgv4Q0iieE4vfW25AENFCmu-C6dVlp2DePsjvsWQJt4hd1F-ispifkiH43AGrG214Y/s320/483710_10152664884975487_1427621143_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15744237717440758988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4579111613978814570.post-13629359988250947502013-02-11T19:25:00.000-08:002013-02-11T19:25:08.933-08:00My babies are getting big!My babies aren't babies anymore. We no longer have diapers. When I leave the house, I don't have to bring sippy cups or bibs. <br />
And then a few weeks ago, my little girl tells me that her tooth is loose. I don't believe her at first because she is way to young to be losing teeth. It took her 10 months to even get one. And I wasn't quite ready. Even though she has been ready for over a year now since her big cousin started losing teeth and she found this cute little tooth fairy pillow. So for these reasons I thought there is no way. But I confirmed that not only was one loose. But two. And I cried. <br />
A few weeks later while brushing her teeth I realized that it was barely hanging on. After a whole let of drama, she allowed her daddy to help her pull it. And she was so excited. So excited that she had her Daddy pull the second one. At the dinner table. Only 3 days later. <br />
I mentioned that I was in denial of this losing teeth business. And that I wasn't quite ready. Literally. The tooth fairy had to leave a ten dollar bill because that was the smallest denomination that 4 adults had in the house. We told Rhiannon that the tooth fairy brings more money for the first tooth. We were more prepared for the second. <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje0BffeXYmI7-oMUyl6dCkrGr_Mk5kBKmqRuymZZOQlNh7O6esmDnSwGKrSpcOLc5UeF0qJf2omF3RpReRVlK-YNOc0oYtMi4nl_1m3JNGTSn67LWOzmxfKJihMqpFvqZqo2gpVK6ibcik/s1600/IMG_0406%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje0BffeXYmI7-oMUyl6dCkrGr_Mk5kBKmqRuymZZOQlNh7O6esmDnSwGKrSpcOLc5UeF0qJf2omF3RpReRVlK-YNOc0oYtMi4nl_1m3JNGTSn67LWOzmxfKJihMqpFvqZqo2gpVK6ibcik/s320/IMG_0406%5B1%5D.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After tooth #2, Jan 27, 2013</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDbHrg5SJnj4nfjMuD5Lp_clGXyQ0oo6amDntpP5ypuNlBNypfK8MmypgOwsgeQt-afljGuvF3RAg7Z-ptK1AsI43-93XPu4EOe_38lbSUayJOz1e1I65pfBWlkebwRpGC98DsBQR5L3ow/s1600/teeth.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDbHrg5SJnj4nfjMuD5Lp_clGXyQ0oo6amDntpP5ypuNlBNypfK8MmypgOwsgeQt-afljGuvF3RAg7Z-ptK1AsI43-93XPu4EOe_38lbSUayJOz1e1I65pfBWlkebwRpGC98DsBQR5L3ow/s320/teeth.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First picture of those sweet little teeth.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
That night as Russ and I examined that tiny little tooth, we remember when she first got it. It seemed like yesterday. And while we we talking about how time goes by too fast, we realize that her younger brother got out of bed, used the potty, washed his hands, and then ran and jumped in bed with his sister so that SHE could finish reading him a story. <br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh22SlaSKFjF-i1bjlDHxEkz6O0zlU2_4jtG8OsQ5wTRJxoxc-UxAjy1q1U1tTyjzEAgzJxNtrSvrtqbxRtDiWiF32kepDsHUVZvpcmC1Ntl6vF9rYoT1tuEakRr_8bG09AZeYlvYo6UK5A/s1600/26006_10150096393805487_7840357_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh22SlaSKFjF-i1bjlDHxEkz6O0zlU2_4jtG8OsQ5wTRJxoxc-UxAjy1q1U1tTyjzEAgzJxNtrSvrtqbxRtDiWiF32kepDsHUVZvpcmC1Ntl6vF9rYoT1tuEakRr_8bG09AZeYlvYo6UK5A/s320/26006_10150096393805487_7840357_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">February 2010, Rhiannon meets Henry for the first time</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I don't know where my babies have gone. Because I still think they are this big. <br />
<br />Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15744237717440758988noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4579111613978814570.post-8970293325532804002012-11-07T18:44:00.004-08:002012-11-07T18:56:45.680-08:00Crains on the MoveI mentioned how infrequent I have been in my blogging. It's been a very busy few months. To catch you up on our "project."<br />
<br />
We have always had intentions on building a house. My parents live in a subdivision that my stepfather developed about 25 years ago. Before it was a subdivision it was our family farm. My parents picked out their lot, the only lake lot in the subdivision, and built there house about 20 years ago. They sold the other lots over the years except for 4 that they saved for each of us kids. I have always known which one I wanted. The lot right beside my parents that has these beautiful old stately oaks in the front yard and a gorgeous view of the creek below surrounded by mountain laurels like you were deep in the North GA mountains. <br />
<br />
Last March we started working towards this goal by meeting with builders. A year later, we finalized a house plan and a builder and were ready to get going. We had tried to sell our current home but decided that we didn't want to pay someone to buy it. So, in the end we decided to rent it. My parents were nice enough to allow us to live in the top floor of their house so that we could save some $ while we were building and be next to the construction. We are packed in pretty tight. My mother, well, she likes clothes. So after all her kids moved out, she took over every, single, walk-in closet in the entire house. So this is a picture of the other side of my and Russ' bedroom. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4H1dWkwLPUVn9AFc_p8Icu_1-msgyKprsOY_2q0Bkeozq50v1TZJyX4hlO7nLMLYM8OQs8Sw9HapJqzlgXLWPvL8TAXDu-3Tke6dzPWLeGpYWd3MfNvIe6PlJ3mDX0RG8GRq78_60bY7E/s1600/IMG_0148%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4H1dWkwLPUVn9AFc_p8Icu_1-msgyKprsOY_2q0Bkeozq50v1TZJyX4hlO7nLMLYM8OQs8Sw9HapJqzlgXLWPvL8TAXDu-3Tke6dzPWLeGpYWd3MfNvIe6PlJ3mDX0RG8GRq78_60bY7E/s320/IMG_0148%5B1%5D.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
I should explain the living arrangements. Russ and I have a bedroom and our own bath. The kids are sharing a room. Which has worked out quite nicely. We packed up Henry's crib and he is sleeping on a daybed and Rhiannon has her own big bed. Henry is loud but Rhiannon sleeps like a rock. I think they may miss sharing a bedroom once we get in our new place. They have their own bath. The other bedroom we turned into a living room/playroom. It's a nice set up. We help pay utilities and we buy groceries and cook dinner. Oh, when I say "we" cook dinner. "We" = Russ. :) This summer we had the pool in our backyard and the kids have loved living with their grandparents. But by February, we will hopefully be out of here. And that will be nice too. Although, I think maybe my parents have gotten used to Russ' cooking so we may be setting two extra plates at dinner. <br />
<br />
Some construction pics:<br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV6luF-dzHsL_Cj9KZ51b_SXagYGfpLc5j6U7oOGb89lzpoXTXqFda0gGVN0BVmJFMvFcHQEA9_5J-Q2kl428zprA0c0g9JGuBswKb7l1k8c2NzPPtAIngKF53nyjRZNp_I5E80tATCM18/s1600/IMG_0076%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV6luF-dzHsL_Cj9KZ51b_SXagYGfpLc5j6U7oOGb89lzpoXTXqFda0gGVN0BVmJFMvFcHQEA9_5J-Q2kl428zprA0c0g9JGuBswKb7l1k8c2NzPPtAIngKF53nyjRZNp_I5E80tATCM18/s320/IMG_0076%5B1%5D.JPG" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We were really excited about the sign!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS5lptdX-bzNggEhNbPSymzWVk3-Dycm0dUaRRUo_qpM-FQ9HJvyBpynleewsMhRl0QX9JZ4M8P7uhnhQQgXxXav4uI-r9KJfbcPkonMZS459e3ON6xH6VCUzBw2ESXzoAHxL4FA08AhoY/s1600/IMG_0002%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS5lptdX-bzNggEhNbPSymzWVk3-Dycm0dUaRRUo_qpM-FQ9HJvyBpynleewsMhRl0QX9JZ4M8P7uhnhQQgXxXav4uI-r9KJfbcPkonMZS459e3ON6xH6VCUzBw2ESXzoAHxL4FA08AhoY/s320/IMG_0002%5B1%5D.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rhi was excited about her boots. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisxLrA-6G7SZumK6FRBiZjDUjs5a99-DC8S_Iy9h8dtIW3T8ABrX2evKCUYjAC52pCcWanhyphenhyphenOiKxHGkejgMaNDCfQBKVG_OPZteV0Ysm98acw-QaWCWxba8NjLRhAmf6sM60fUcR9eYPNa/s1600/IMG_0018%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisxLrA-6G7SZumK6FRBiZjDUjs5a99-DC8S_Iy9h8dtIW3T8ABrX2evKCUYjAC52pCcWanhyphenhyphenOiKxHGkejgMaNDCfQBKVG_OPZteV0Ysm98acw-QaWCWxba8NjLRhAmf6sM60fUcR9eYPNa/s320/IMG_0018%5B1%5D.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Foundation</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLr2nNcpxsAYVRNpJ7pK4EzqN6Ufm0nlXREcucn-QmfJx-9xrOnYWXwn-XoplWkroSsUKDduQSd3yR6awafLBop0kaXJ0om2ErldmfECxR_sBTl9p7QxuGDv8d8zAbPQs4N2VSdM13eSJy/s1600/IMG_0069%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLr2nNcpxsAYVRNpJ7pK4EzqN6Ufm0nlXREcucn-QmfJx-9xrOnYWXwn-XoplWkroSsUKDduQSd3yR6awafLBop0kaXJ0om2ErldmfECxR_sBTl9p7QxuGDv8d8zAbPQs4N2VSdM13eSJy/s320/IMG_0069%5B1%5D.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Upstairs. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMAvx5VpEiarRqiWUWQXx-nGjsu4Jzrm3HNoV_FOxeyIO9-pYhgeIRSmUGfakBQulsp16N-AR45BfyKp6-a1rYgi78gYexb9-smydkE6ubk_DQme1jlQuWSWBPSpJ4HWWdwctw8JHWil1z/s1600/IMG_0098%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMAvx5VpEiarRqiWUWQXx-nGjsu4Jzrm3HNoV_FOxeyIO9-pYhgeIRSmUGfakBQulsp16N-AR45BfyKp6-a1rYgi78gYexb9-smydkE6ubk_DQme1jlQuWSWBPSpJ4HWWdwctw8JHWil1z/s320/IMG_0098%5B1%5D.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Henry doing a drive by.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAsqZ_Ofp5g9kQB051z5cyUFrWRq87sHMYT3RclJjQXAfs0ovBRr42sc-SCDEJow09olZrEp76E1jG9EmeGWgTR44-Fpd4Cw8dWuXoS5PhQIxfyaey_a9dr05E4KCJz3M07ETCdTr4eubu/s1600/IMG_0144%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAsqZ_Ofp5g9kQB051z5cyUFrWRq87sHMYT3RclJjQXAfs0ovBRr42sc-SCDEJow09olZrEp76E1jG9EmeGWgTR44-Fpd4Cw8dWuXoS5PhQIxfyaey_a9dr05E4KCJz3M07ETCdTr4eubu/s320/IMG_0144%5B1%5D.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We have a roof!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf_7Xcun763_-GtTi0yu-AANWY1SWqfNMOJi0sWhcH3HXhZzsrHpB1eI3uZOjOHkwxz3h_KiBX-pJv8ShQe16GhpbdbA4UyJQNnjEe-nYzuBQFH29MO8hZbEPLaxs4rfxCIgW7ozxwZsBx/s1600/IMG_0145%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhf_7Xcun763_-GtTi0yu-AANWY1SWqfNMOJi0sWhcH3HXhZzsrHpB1eI3uZOjOHkwxz3h_KiBX-pJv8ShQe16GhpbdbA4UyJQNnjEe-nYzuBQFH29MO8hZbEPLaxs4rfxCIgW7ozxwZsBx/s320/IMG_0145%5B1%5D.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rhi says we have it all "wrapped up". </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTX8LsYaJcmyteuVhUdoQ-BLTKaR6sM1HAbuPAzk7lj5w9Y2391pcZ6FUwAbkCHn7xb4Ql-v7khSQocWR1l0zywWi_Zs29Q2UoW3JjzOkjR_2mBgRNdpa6O8oyAxOTtSMgnhCtGAWcKWnj/s1600/IMG_0099%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTX8LsYaJcmyteuVhUdoQ-BLTKaR6sM1HAbuPAzk7lj5w9Y2391pcZ6FUwAbkCHn7xb4Ql-v7khSQocWR1l0zywWi_Zs29Q2UoW3JjzOkjR_2mBgRNdpa6O8oyAxOTtSMgnhCtGAWcKWnj/s320/IMG_0099%5B1%5D.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One of our trails. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMpPuB8kmjLe08WXJE-x2qTzk7XpgXC_nMZzsOlBhCVlrwWtc04zpocFOIL3_kXE2sG2F_6jXtGopb1XOv_1E3S5-gx7ud1NQd8Ra0KzTyW34bi-SLEliQVHcf55naCt_9qUDMkCXyC_gf/s1600/IMG_0061%5B1%5D.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMpPuB8kmjLe08WXJE-x2qTzk7XpgXC_nMZzsOlBhCVlrwWtc04zpocFOIL3_kXE2sG2F_6jXtGopb1XOv_1E3S5-gx7ud1NQd8Ra0KzTyW34bi-SLEliQVHcf55naCt_9qUDMkCXyC_gf/s320/IMG_0061%5B1%5D.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Down at the creek. Taken during a picnic!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
And some pictures of our "backyard". My favorite.<br />
<br />
<br />
As of today, the roof is now finished. The windows and exterior doors are in place. The electric and plumbing are almost complete. Hardy plank is being put on now and brick will be next. <br />
<br />
I will keep you updated with pictures. <br />
<br />
I'm out. I still have no idea where my winter coats are. . .<br />
<br />Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15744237717440758988noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4579111613978814570.post-3621252110883930692012-10-08T19:24:00.000-07:002012-10-08T19:24:36.758-07:00Funny Things from My Mama's BoyI'm going to ease back into this blogging thing. I have thought of many things that I wanted to remember. And that was the main reason for this blog: to document the lives of our family. Things in our family got a little crazy over the last few months. And when I picked up Henry's journal, I realized that it's been a <u>for real</u> long time. So I'm going blog a little a time. Even if it's small. So that I don't forget. <br />
<br />
More on why our life is crazy later. Today I want to blog about the funny things that come out of my two year old's mouth. <br />
<br />
Henry is a Mama's Boy. No joking. No exaggerating. I call him my tick because if possible, he would be attached to me at all times. I'm not complaining. I love it. But there comes some funny moments. <br />
<br />
That kid is a talker. Rhiannon is having a bit of trouble (understatement of the year here) adjusting to Kindergarten because she talks too much. At the last parent teacher conference we were happy to learn that she is improving. And we took that opportunity to warn the staff: if you think she talks too much, wait to you meet her little brother. Let's just say that on our 8 hour trip to the beach, our Henry chatterbox NEVER stopped talking. Rhiannon will sleep or watch a movie and will rest her mouth for a minute. Not Henry. Geez. <br />
<br />
He's full time in underwear now. Potty training him was so easy. Shockingly easy. But I think God thought he would let one thing about my dear Henry be easy because He knew he has not been the easiest child. But Henry wants me to watch him potty. Like sit there with him. And talk to him. While he is doing all his business. I tried to send him with his Daddy a few nights ago. Henry screamed: "No! I want Mommy to watch me pee pee!!" Russ replied with "Ok Buddy. That's a little weird but I'll go get her." Thanks Daddy. <br />
<br />
We were at lunch with the Crains this weekend at TGI Friday's. The server came up and before he could introduce himself, Henry told him "I'm Henry. I'm a big boy. I want pizza to eat. This is my Mommy. She wants a hamburger." My ladies man. Already taking charge and ordering for his lady. Thanks sweet boy but there are 4 other people at the table. The waiter then laughed and asked him what he wanted to drink. Henry replied. "I'll take a beer." I tried to divert the situation by moving on to Rhiannon. Unfortunately, she told the server she wanted a beer too. I covered my face with my hands and accepted my Mother of the Year award.<br />
<br />
Henry thinks that I belong to him and that Russ belongs to Rhiannon. Which can sound strange when he tells everyone at dinner "No Rhi Rhi! Russ is YOUR daddy." Henry honey, he is your Daddy too. <br />
<br />
But there are sweet moments. Like when I asked him if he remembered Disney World from last fall. And I asked him what was his favorite thing about Disney, and he responded "You Mommy." Or when he woke up from his nap and came to find me and told me that I was his "best, best, friend."<br />
<br />
And I'm not the only lady in life that kisses and babies him all the time. There are the grandmothers. And his teacher. Henry goes to preschool 2 days a week. This morning, his teacher, Mrs. Suzanne came and got him out of the car. He flashed her this really big grin as she greeted him. Then she carried him all the way in the building, kissing all over him the whole time. Now when Rhiannon started school at 2 1/2, she walked in the building like she owned the place. Apparently Henry is carried. He's irresistible I guess. <br />
<br />
You are one sweet kid Henry Russell. And you may be a Mommy's Boy but this Mommy will take it. And you can live me until you are 85. For real. <br />
<br />
Love,<br />
Your Mommy<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPG6w1nUhdHdRrxF_0QK_awxiDZ-P-ErBrD8F2Pmk7pm4Y93Ua0j8XksZAK0eQnLfnji6ABi2A7fvU5ID78elJUCFgYY6PQNESF_3g9484uL-2xwSlsuSlDQ6N-UwtvU1uCAYLJRhM7EpX/s1600/377309_10152129047710487_1311408826_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPG6w1nUhdHdRrxF_0QK_awxiDZ-P-ErBrD8F2Pmk7pm4Y93Ua0j8XksZAK0eQnLfnji6ABi2A7fvU5ID78elJUCFgYY6PQNESF_3g9484uL-2xwSlsuSlDQ6N-UwtvU1uCAYLJRhM7EpX/s320/377309_10152129047710487_1311408826_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS6CABYELumqqEN1XxD05rFJnPv9ZotIK4wpC4zNOtifVP14PBzoh0tRKuKksIXPYVwAjpPzSfJPbCse-eEh5TpBYZGh0HfWg1wRN7N9Gul8yhsntLYdj3odZnwVi1K0VGuQ36sEamqIYL/s1600/427413_10151365108765487_1848491776_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS6CABYELumqqEN1XxD05rFJnPv9ZotIK4wpC4zNOtifVP14PBzoh0tRKuKksIXPYVwAjpPzSfJPbCse-eEh5TpBYZGh0HfWg1wRN7N9Gul8yhsntLYdj3odZnwVi1K0VGuQ36sEamqIYL/s320/427413_10151365108765487_1848491776_n.jpg" width="180" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWVkimvl7QZL-5aKKrnfWw55mZxCLiYgqwaSG4AbyfZGtM8UDdJVIJ2MrtwnpFUefgR24MASegQFaA5kWzE1G7YywlDU0cz2_N1lY0tFSgL6XBQkUMn8z_mTRDJIKmgcpVTwDwVXeriCs9/s1600/428819_10152012249265487_1380690959_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWVkimvl7QZL-5aKKrnfWw55mZxCLiYgqwaSG4AbyfZGtM8UDdJVIJ2MrtwnpFUefgR24MASegQFaA5kWzE1G7YywlDU0cz2_N1lY0tFSgL6XBQkUMn8z_mTRDJIKmgcpVTwDwVXeriCs9/s320/428819_10152012249265487_1380690959_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiStcsOLnpEWumseQ1uqBz5C-YaIQshebHzW84-NznDNnm3V5FoKmtzfkokHu7YkfTxZXgj_JrzNAOCPhEVM0i7XdSalA1gtuk9XAh3zIbLDx7l_ENI1NrY6_QQHfe5Mja9z14GFUy4jBeX/s1600/574948_10151716070540487_938078700_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiStcsOLnpEWumseQ1uqBz5C-YaIQshebHzW84-NznDNnm3V5FoKmtzfkokHu7YkfTxZXgj_JrzNAOCPhEVM0i7XdSalA1gtuk9XAh3zIbLDx7l_ENI1NrY6_QQHfe5Mja9z14GFUy4jBeX/s320/574948_10151716070540487_938078700_n.jpg" width="212" /></a></div>
<br />Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15744237717440758988noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4579111613978814570.post-52822888261820873682012-03-08T19:04:00.008-08:002012-03-08T20:33:44.836-08:00A trip to the zoo<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; text-align: left; ">We took the kids to the zoo.</span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; ">I wonder if we should have left them there. . .</div><div style="text-align: center;font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "> .</div></div><div><div style="text-align: center;font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; ">We went in November.</div></div><div><div style="text-align: center;font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; ">Yes. I know it's March. </div><div style="text-align: center;font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; ">Baby steps ok?</div></div><div><div style="text-align: center; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; ">Anyways. . . the zoo. </div><div style="text-align: center;font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; ">Our local library offered this great deal that my buddy Michele told me about. You go and watch a 30 minute video about the history of Zoo Atlanta at the library and then you get 4 free tickets. Yes! I dig free. And I dig the zoo. Rhiannon digs maps.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div><br /></div><div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMLXYSYfG5Oq7fS9DVJ9zg-qqn93PaF5qzOP3bVSEleFY1EZLfTt3_XeD8a348c4n8SYQC0eWvyZRzquXYbQcHEdmQ7gvsUabEZ40TCZQL-PN9xzvuyRZTdgaYhs96tmSmogEDWu8ZSCCC/s400/DSC_0965.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5717740096385493522" style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div></div><div style="text-align: center;font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; ">I especially dig the pandas!</div><div></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcXuBE8DY2hPcAYJEGklpbmYjtO2g0Hl8-nPLxw9QRDxeskMMeu3y2Ionoh0qveSgDfty8y5YeSO3eBfzO-uqJvxF5iYXUJz7aOysFzqTnqOWvdemAnu7UhcrwPJZhuIWb7NY4ND2X-RUY/s320/DSC_0947.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5717741550203223634" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px; " /><div><div style="text-align: center; "><div style="text-align: left; "></div></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; "></div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; "><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; text-align: center; font-size: medium; "></div><div><br /></div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; "><div style="text-align: center; "><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; "><br />And the parakeet exhibit.</span></div></div></div><div style="text-align: center;font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEypYlNifdli0HjZhNg57yBXwzNYpocmijjn-r7HrScNIDZwvU5XrJnY06F_a_utgly9fEOeBX-mbV67cVRkroIB16vlvebuO8-NhVRABBdkV-r5-U14ROWKMZ37mV6BJvQEcJ93UEgVMm/s320/DSC_0807.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5717745301276689554" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px; " /><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; text-align: left; "><div style="text-align: center; "><div style="text-align: left; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF71yQNDfolZWqlL90_lM31Lzy3bR8y-xhRpfrQQ8nR6RaGIUNIaosfJA-FnMm3_-7ep-b9pKpn6DOjEBHtxz8Q3uCp7l9tlNQqQyKWFIPvWMM8jYu2cJMU-4EEiWiv-X1XfcY0lOfJtnl/s320/DSC_0803.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5717750283768140786" style="text-align: center; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px; " /></div><div style="text-align: left; "></div></div></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 16px; text-align: left; "><div style="text-align: center; "><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; "></div></div></div><div style="text-align: left; "></div><div style="text-align: left; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh42_SIaxERp2lQ9d_1A4QQQ8s1bQ1SGt_ynmsxeTcj4DPZhPf3I7yevlb6wroXAyVQRaI17Q3SdWdr_ClBT1FV2cTl7RHNopr_fkdj0dW_BwXAqYed9VY88bHJi5ldROmXALkQxcqmOmQ/s320/DSC_0814.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5717750274680389666" style="text-align: center; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px; " /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: left; "></div></div><div><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: center;font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; ">And this baby monkey. </div><div style="text-align: center;font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><div style="text-align: left; "><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; "><div style="text-align: center; "><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoXYtAHH4jubBjLlKnn_12Vnjgej8xUvnzaopWajFFljLI2mR5_KbEbSH9Oqqv9Wb-229ttSNbq8sleoXnxJW062_aeT0Wf0jzk693hDPmHF_r7-WrUBS_AF9ZPwHMvSrskgp02wag3BZ1/s1600/DSC_0927.JPG" style="text-align: left; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWF_gni7a7VWknsujylu0Z4pHP0heNY4bzmT3jJkPAJ6bfK2vWGpo53zT4DYIEqzhvsN12VzVAOT9DGKcTn5hJS7_cs8PuvwNfzSw9xFHoQhKXsYK0O99KZlkg9pITYDi__94oVijz7vFd/s320/DSC_0881.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5717743428691986898" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px; " /><div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-align: center; "><div style="text-align: left; "></div></div></a><div><br /></div></div></div></div></div><div style="text-align: center;font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; ">And this monkey. They </div><div style="font-size: 16px; font-family: Georgia, serif; "><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; "></div></div><div style="text-align: center;font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; ">tried to keep him. </div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoXYtAHH4jubBjLlKnn_12Vnjgej8xUvnzaopWajFFljLI2mR5_KbEbSH9Oqqv9Wb-229ttSNbq8sleoXnxJW062_aeT0Wf0jzk693hDPmHF_r7-WrUBS_AF9ZPwHMvSrskgp02wag3BZ1/s1600/DSC_0927.JPG" style="text-align: left; "><div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-align: center; "><div style="text-align: left; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMlPSJ0Uc0Ec1PEaZ8tGAwzgOFflmobnKlY0OkTqE-_q_yf2qYc_IynkenRYC4G7d3IIOyw2I9t5JoB0zDz1qMXIxFcyDv9D56fpSiNsvP6g54-ewwtNZ4A0JmC2d6tJZ57x4ISelBfRlf/s320/DSC_0842.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5717750265543403954" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px; " /></div><div style="text-align: left; "></div><div><div style="text-align: left; "></div></div><div style="text-align: left; "><div><div style="text-align: center; "><div style="text-align: left; "></div></div></div></div><div style="text-align: left; "></div><div><div><div><div style="text-align: left; "></div></div></div></div></div><div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-align: center; "><div><div><div><div style="text-align: left; "></div></div></div></div></div></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span ><br /></span></div><span ><span style="font-size: 100%; margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto; font-size: 100%; margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto;"></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; ">Henry loved "Dum Bum".</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><div style="font-size: 16px; font-family: Georgia, serif; "><div style="text-align: center;font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; "><br /></div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; "></div></div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoAv5VTaeuMeCxLjcMtEIm_IL0oZNUeoKjTq6C7BFA5K8xDtTRPMxqZGvjLfRNu5gdfgGbXH9W3ezTcZbeeVVRlyDaVgb3Rv-9arkhSSSaJ-d1qtqjT0Ueq4lZwpHudl0kN0xVpGiPVqWc/s400/DSC_1008.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5717740103355188610" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: center;font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; ">We learned that this DumBum is full of _____.</div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoXYtAHH4jubBjLlKnn_12Vnjgej8xUvnzaopWajFFljLI2mR5_KbEbSH9Oqqv9Wb-229ttSNbq8sleoXnxJW062_aeT0Wf0jzk693hDPmHF_r7-WrUBS_AF9ZPwHMvSrskgp02wag3BZ1/s1600/DSC_0927.JPG"><div style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0); text-align: center; "><div><div><div><div style="text-align: left; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiscKC715q3saflpAT2kM0t7VsoyX_mepO4NpedLuXz9KVfY5fX_89IUteonNgyfOik9SujEhb2ErBzrFrrFvGIMGYyDA-hJZyN7CodqLELZCNkllDqe8oLDdtKy-NxNjJ8Dpp76dA9itW6/s320/DSC_0796.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5717748426891081842" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px; " /></div><div style="text-align: left; "></div></div></div><span ><span style="font-size: 16px; margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto; "></span></span><div></div></div><div><div></div></div></div></a><div style="text-align: center; "></div><div style="text-align: center; "></div><div style="text-align: center; "></div><div style="text-align: center;font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; ">I love this guy. Hello Handsome. How you doin?</div><div><div style="font-size: 16px; text-align: center; font-family: Georgia, serif; "><div style="text-align: left; "><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; "><div style="text-align: center; "><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left; "></div><div style="text-align: left; "></div><div style="text-align: left; "></div><div style="text-align: left; "></div></div></div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; "></div><div style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; "></div></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto;"><span style="font-size: 16px; margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto; " ></span></span><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTuu0yoZdeNV-F4qIuqyFc3kDXLhc_LN7fH3mFnGSJDgmmfqACeNuufGkfYXx5MFAC_zmreNpg87LDkun8GXlZjO2WbAWVsHMG3_XpsDH-CCvoVWaZQ5a7UDKEgqKaOdLeShXwOATlJZ2N/s320/DSC_1011.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5717741564567903586" style="text-align: center; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px; " /><div style="text-align: center; "></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; ">The kids loved statues?</div><div style="text-align: center; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYjXjj80qUgrsqRAIZWf4vxjyU8kkJlBE2k1dpC0IP3DfpWpnrC5JbBxCVWrkE8h8V0WG9ktqsz-Aj6iP0YUDhVfqic83yrtC1dUSyQK02PYShxXcmIlUtjvYYyLwWqWSCQpH8wM9n54s_/s320/DSC_0927.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5717745279975968258" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px; " /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><span ><span style="font-size: 100%; margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtAFjkD54HFLIPU7yl5pM26PlyM7BSBAEy0C_8to4fRKCOAvXC8AuehUfdMCYHhMyzPxmOI6AqCX-RY-QV3EII01wLLSQ7CAMPtqrWnV0GKuPqFg_zjKUIj0gJhh4xBp1kPux95uWUv4MH/s320/DSC_0856.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5717743406801520226" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px; " /></span></span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; ">We had a blast. A nice little educational trip. With our two little crazy animals. </div><div style="text-align: center;font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJygJ6BGZap2_mpSxJghbEeSz5lh94wdbJaaeQ8-j9Gm4k3BcuoQrtrvRGvKEQTPhwiRI5ARD6iG5murKltqR_iy8qyEKYdzK8qd27Ir3o46RKB2sEsVqhmptjMYORHCW5YBjT8Rr-jHx_/s320/DSC_0831.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5717745288825134994" style="font-size: medium; font-family: 'Times New Roman'; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px; " /></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><br /></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><br /></div></div></div>Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15744237717440758988noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4579111613978814570.post-28065211539931434912012-01-16T19:08:00.000-08:002012-01-16T20:09:35.782-08:00Helton Creek Falls<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: left; ">MLK weekend. A 3 day, LONG weekend. We have been </span></div><div><div>crazy busy the last few, well months! With holidays and Russ' brothers wedding on NYE, we were ready for some down time. Russ and I went out with friends on Saturday night and Henry and Rhiannon spent the night with the Crains. Russ' mother has been sick since August and this was the first time that the kids have spent the night with them in months. After breakfast with the Crains we whisked the kids away for a day trip to the mountains. We like to call it "Crains on Tour."</div><div><br /></div><div>We headed north to Helton Creek Falls. This is a waterfall that is a favorite of mine and Russ'. We also took the kids almost 2 years ago when Henry was a little over a month old.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><a href="http://babycrain.blogspot.com/2010/04/crains-on-tour.html">Our trip almost 2 years ago</a></div></div><div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div>I got home and downloaded pictures and just couldn't resist posting comparisons. How did 2 years go by so fast? Last trip I had a infant strapped to my chest and a 2 year old that had some trouble hiking the trail. This trip we had a 4 year old hiker and another 2 year old to help along the trail. </div></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>So here is the game:</div><div>Me and HRC this year:</div><div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSyTe2N0iGnNZ1-nXI37v7EZTvD7nI151cL8hKjB3Bm6PFC9E3tJt889bimhn9b3dRz7nH23n7qy7vKAiLZB7FeZrrbfIciaGNmjT_YzyXOk9u74Q_wht1JnhKvBx6GSXsahT_qy2RVAry/s400/DSC_0154.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698436846415739714" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 289px; " /><div style="text-align: left; "><br /></div><div>Me and Henry 2 years ago!</div></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiD4FdEMNftd5nzZNeNM40LFLK4EJruDeByrIShm5Heaxu0XEgidmBR9n9OT56zrzzKNOJB4qgncqYSw_y6c0jj3BgGlZlWEDe9gqGaWwW574fV_Q4AaiBzHFiV3TD35dGJgfmZEsghi3sS/s400/26442_10150149229845487_573525486_11506020_1380280_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698436834371542850" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div></div><div>Rhiannon James in 2012</div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAuD_BZT-nP5HEN4DTNYzCFW9U7_awh8h8XWRykQYmeU2GSkte4Qo3NhPFMCBdX5gTM5qO85Ec7yXqKJxEc7rjMrzu6OnCi5lNdGK3B0KKY_whKZrNv9oelqb972mXkB6NgoxFQLb-2-9t/s400/DSC_0126.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698437948709538498" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px; " /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /></div><div>Rhiannon James in 2010</div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiO6IWZUGqbTWqWrm6kvhBIorkG_WJXYCmPpgxnlgGNEdVf6hc9SCJxq1ddadr7EMsjd-xU-aQNHT4IFcv8ysnnCUIfEOFAgId0svEH7CMhsUiou4g48E1hvSsCXq7Ba2zTfebwF2QOgW8o/s400/26442_10150149229910487_573525486_11506031_3123853_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698437947687064210" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div>Daddy and his little hiker this year</div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7a0pQ_ze4PoLaj6ScwH81i5T1ofrDVJz4GytfdOmsnYIom3rBS9GZOpXM9FAGSQujvv4fG4S11FA1yp95Vj3kTRCxsbgwK3e2Cn7bVkQxrEfFZBmAQxouuFfVlfQq0wNAmxoPb5r9WrYg/s400/DSC_0149.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698438996117871842" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px; " /><br /></div><div>Daddy and RJ on her first hike</div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVo2lAqbeeFtXFBMU-QUVJxtkSTyj2ksvz-OZifBVL77KYq-dJEwaKWBXdeajgqiE1dJ48JFfygakGpzYjq2aK1xSD_QdWTTrZxDSyCcMhb29bpSep0G4deOSGhjWbypLoWcJn4VYWYgF2/s400/26442_10150149229880487_573525486_11506025_7613620_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698437971581276242" style="text-align: center; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 400px; " /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Family of 4 this year</div><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrKsndzTHTzOGQIOuu8c1ZmWDwYkSTcixfapIVVsChYYVGJ5B36JElYM5WVcaIfzBCISAQuAh0OuWFSo0maXt3Um9w2UyOWOpqZb4kEVof4ujMqRHDFhNK7KE_AZzLGRdA_tUFTNLF6z1s/s1600/DSC_0146-2.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrKsndzTHTzOGQIOuu8c1ZmWDwYkSTcixfapIVVsChYYVGJ5B36JElYM5WVcaIfzBCISAQuAh0OuWFSo0maXt3Um9w2UyOWOpqZb4kEVof4ujMqRHDFhNK7KE_AZzLGRdA_tUFTNLF6z1s/s400/DSC_0146-2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698436829090288514" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 226px; " /></a><br /><div></div></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div></div></div><div>Family of 4 last trip</div><div><div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIBrFKNahWL5vH76qbn-XyQ6cdtPRqyeirBkSo8sBLH4eE3mGq7gD1Jh6fZrT2AyFR-LsBbc2fkONGKyBtrPTLiAnIQyC27Uv1y86-4zPDJtM0ySvKMlkCLDWX9WpuV6_ifyiFF9ZFvOHA/s400/26442_10150149229865487_573525486_11506023_4741807_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698436832269691426" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /><br /></div></div></div><div><br /></div><div>We had so much fun. The kids loved seeing the falls and talking about the trees and picking up rocks and driving through the mountains. </div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirq2faV6yMj4zT-1evn1jnENtXqUWoK_6N7mExPsvi39XK4F2NUupwbbF0Au0Dr4MLqI8Kz3af0Wy9EZyvQcFJQG8KwdLWQF73-OIld5Kd49dxfWwU_Cy6pzOqdDq76khiXKDago-p0njM/s400/DSC_0173.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698438999579958786" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " /><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiErdVjJd-QGzkcDk-LBWyGNQPn66Se0oDaEgpbj3wVcyJhvwZafa8WgBjSrzmzhpMy_q-gvuyn8n59Bz94lTisSO1AxAYMpd42tgOhQHeP3Hw3KBBUAY3OAOezd6qFja4RC8egFqqWni2r/s400/DSC_0065.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698437985515030034" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px; " /><div>And of course ended the day with lunch at our favorite Creekside deli in Cleveland and then home for naps. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>Henry didn't stop talking the entire trip. He jabbered from the minute we pulled out of the Crains driveway until he fell asleep that afternoon. I thought Rhiannon talked a lot. Henry is giving her some serious competition. "Mommy look!" Mommy! What's that?" "School bus!" "Tractor!" "Woah! Mountains!" He kept me and Russ giggling. </div><div>Our cute little chatter box. </div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-Rw6ba6PAQX5XKvEUENH20aAYdJtAVKMf2T3zc8efElVqN0SbGrPDVqKaJSWE5X7K3Lih_F9lT56I90dB6V-JLW3UmNh9m4Xz8TRjox9Sf9a3YVitSPjGxJM3i8gwmnVKr9Y0No4CHbIk/s400/DSC_0117.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5698439008491119058" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " /></div></div></div>Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15744237717440758988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4579111613978814570.post-34175675829949031792011-10-07T17:34:00.000-07:002011-10-07T18:20:01.083-07:00A beach tripSo let me start out this post by explaining that I'm stuck at an airport in San Francisco. I've been in San Jose this week for business. And then I tried to fly out of San Jose. But my flight was delayed. Causing me to be late for my connecting flight and the only flight I could get to Atlanta would be out of San Fran. So they shuttled me here and I'm waiting 6 hours for my red eye flight to Atlanta to get me back in GA at 5:48am. But I PROMISED my curly headed girl that I would be home on Saturday morning. And I gave her a calendar to mark off the days until Mama would be home. And by God I WILL keep that promise. Even if it means catching an all night flight to do so. Baby girl, I will see you when you wake in the morning.<br /><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>I'm now two mojitos into my wait for my flight. And I've been nastalgic. Looking at pictures of my babies. And I thought this would be a good time to update that blog that I'm supposed to be keeping up with. Because I found this picture. So sweet. My Rhiannon and her best friend in the whole world. Her cousin Lawson. Boy do they love one another. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 291px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660920983152733858" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieKlNLJ9m3ZTYVglACDKi5R6U0airE_wGqARWs9bhOHg6TSsr4JxGuKyl-b6NqRRP7-xW4YzO2tqFNBRwTv76ZqHa591rLsCmJDrGo9t2dW8l3g4PZjjFcRwP228CDmhw7obDI3LgpaexN/s400/ry%253D404.jpg" /></div><br /><div>So here it goes.<br /></div><br /><div>In July we went on our family trip to the beach. I finally convinced my parents, the funders of this trip, that it would be better to go the Gulf this year. Versus our normal vacay spot of Myrtle Beach. I used a house that my girlfriends have stayed at in the past as ammunition to convince them.<br /></div><br /><div>I was excited too because Henry was only 4 months old on our trip last year. And he couldn't sit on his own yet. So I had to carry him around all week in a baby sling. And he cried ALL the time. This year, I thought foolishly, would be better. He can walk and run and swim and play in the sand. Right? Nope. My boy was teething. Apparently getting 1,000,000 molars at one time. And home boy was not handling it well. And then midway through the trip he came down with his sisters case of croup. So they were both struggling with roid rage from the steroids used to treat croup. And Henry again cried all week. But this year he also cried all night. When he was a 4 month old, he at least slept some.<br /><br />Let's put it this way. I looked forward to my morning runs. And I DO NOT like to run. But it was a time that I suddenly felt 25 lbs lighter. And I didn't feel like throwing a baby out the window.<br /></div><br /><div>Just kidding. Sort of.<br /></div><br /><br /><div>Not to dwell on the negatives but the ocean was full of seaweed. It was like standing in brunswick stew. Another reason why my parents have never wanted to go the Gulf. I convinced them by telling them that I've been going to the Gulf for years and have never had bad seaweed. Ha ha ha.<br /></div><br /><br /><div>However, at the end of our road was a freshwater lake. That never got more than 3 feet deep. It was kid haven. And Rhiannon and my niece, Lawson, loved it. We saw a complete transformation in Rhiannon. She went from refusing to get her face wet to wearing goggles and swimming under water, in a 24 hour time period. So that was pretty cool.<br /></div><br /><div>My mental picture of Henry for the week.</div><br /><br /><br /><p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 291px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660917006998926690" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzlFX3n1oD-qkqHMvJG8lL5om8I3sDmOfm1bSN6DupF1-ElAamTrWHTwvQxM1CpXTaKZe4zYdLlN3MHGQ97dI_JT7OnznvYCk6bR32kvXHBh_KlY_QT5rSfp2WI2JCsZSPtDjOR6Yc2W3S/s400/ry%253D406.jpg" />He was happy as long as we was here. In someone's lap. It didn't matter who. Me. Aunt Katie. Whatevas. See the lake behind us? </p><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660917936416350658" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHIi56jAYx70I68pFcArw20no9gXoed_6NImtawVdWY3JneSv_7tQ35OdGU7kEVJhaYVbYd-yGHzttAWwwGSDHjl1z7_eUjXBQLcfxzevtZX7buOl_Opioua2z6LJMxYAZ5FNkxCgRgpwf/s400/30.jpg" /><br />The kiddos. Doesn't Henry look happy? </div><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 291px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660917954255755666" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhaTMonJ70ZSehz6pKpJtfy1e6nLCQPjnFwJGBZrp5V-f2M-GftGhgf8x2mqs5PNYITcSF3zMx7zKw6bghWpd7aqq1nuZmMVdpGVg27zK1IHh4ce8VYRoSIfZP8cLJBGR_tUf9SlJrbocIM/s400/ry%253D401.jpg" /></div><br /><div>My babies. Again. Henry. Bless him. </div><br /><div><br /></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 291px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660920966235224226" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5hjDsPaIBzICjWajxcZAyX0GFqTdQOQ23xMSvCbgNPi_qtk5zpWtXAmfTWFpOyMhjQDcWZOHKnjqZCmdeSQMQHT1BEnj72qtms-5h-mGiU25FBWkmsx2KwfV2PjJizFx0KNzJcZ6l3MwM/s400/ry%253D407.jpg" />My little beach bunny. </div><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 291px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660920977731484322" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY-66KUeaf9VNvGfpLwJLtmHCcSgViZobPKUTBYcxf-DY7yaSqow_NKCnWbLVE3S4QBdpCV1QVpivtJHx1Q3RcgO1DyIBRDbzOzGsKimGkqlIdiSmNS8qVwTY2ns938bG8uLaRG_1C3_ZX/s400/ry%253D402.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660920969912239394" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKX0qxhKsV0q0tzfZin6qge0rzMg5gmvt7crflWl_tsLoL88ibDAy03gHGP4Oh6KuC8bsL-HqcJVgJG7pDc_v6NE9v3VmjTS4eeCMhZyYacyZZCm122ZDxmAFO2nHyxCxkqjDah7DsK8rv/s400/26.jpg" /></div><br /><div>And the whole family. </div><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 291px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660920989006895250" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFd_FFuPNzKBX7LymBSZUldG-k9jzohTkEWJznseluS1BtWr4jddW_aT8fMFl1Rg_FBuflmjnmJB42qJtHY_xpLOX-tfWZnAKQdzTXXzfRsZC7h8Ss2xBv0Qe4jx1tXIHOTg0PPecQ2i85/s400/ry%253D414.jpg" /></div><br /><div>We might try again next year. I'm making no promises though. . . :)</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>We really did have a good time. Big thanks to my parents to taking us all on this trip. And the rest of my family for putting up with me and my rugrats. There is one thing for certain. I am so blessed for my family. There is no where I would rather be than with my family. My brothers and sister and sister-in-law and mother and step-dad and out of this world neice. Combined with little family it just rocks. No matter the situation. We just have fun. I love you guys. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div></div><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><p></p><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><p></p><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><p><br /><br /></p><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div>Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15744237717440758988noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4579111613978814570.post-11090037565044709882011-09-03T12:33:00.000-07:002011-09-03T13:08:48.691-07:00Oh yeah. My blog!So for those of you who may have missed my updates. And for the sake of archiving our memories. I'm back. My d*&n laptop died again. So I have been unable to download or edit photos but now I'm back. And I'm going to attempt to update you from the summer.
<br /><div>
<br /><div></div>
<br />
<br /><div>But today we're going to start with just a general update. I'll update with pictures from events afterwards.
<br /></div>
<br /><div>Rhiannon turned 4!! Four? Doesn't that sound old to you? It sounds old to me. And she started Pre-K! I can't handle it. That sounds big too. And it was a big decision for Mommy. First of all I was unsure if I should start her in Pre-K yet. Her birthday is July 24 which is a late birthday for that grade level. And since her birthday should have been in October, I wondered whether I should start her the next school year and keep her in preschool another year. But in the we decided that Pre-K was fine. And if she needed to wait for Kindergarten then she could just do 2 years of Pre-K. And the other big decision was whether she should continue going 3 days of move to 5 days. I thought the structure was better with 5 days. And it was only half days. But I worried about Henry missing her. And I knew the grandparents would too. So I asked her and she said she wanted to go everyday. So that's what we did. And it seems to be going just great. She loves her teacher Mrs Michelle. And her two BFF's Madyson and Madilyn are in her class again so the fab 3 are owning the halls of Grace this year. </div>
<br /><div></div>
<br />
<br /><div>Henry is 18 months old. At his 18 month appt we found out that he in the 50% for weight and 65% for height. Head of course in the 95% (both my kids were "blessed" with Mama's big head). I looked back and discovered that his preemie sister was actually an inch taller than him at 18 months!! So we think that he may have inherited his Daddy's height. Ha ha.
<br /></div>
<br /><div>Henry is talking up a storm. He follows instructions much better than his sister. His favorite book is Good Night Moon. His favorite songs are very interesting. The most requested two: Boom Boom Pow by the Black Eyed Peas. Which he sings and knows the words to. Or "Jesus, Jesus" a gospel song by Alan Jackson. We like to mix it up around here. He loves soy milk, peanut butter, M&Ms, blueberries, and most of all cherry tomatoes. He eats then straight from the vine. When I pick him up at my mother's house, his shirts are usually covered in tomoato seeds. </div>
<br /><div></div>
<br />
<br /><div>Two recent pictures of my babies. . . </div>
<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5648226266025255522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnh-58FKOklnSOJsg-71tQPCrnMCGrLhksrM4dMWYRKc_jHWbyrmZ1RNQPVlHQDr8nMJd-v5Rr0imDJw3-9MGRmUqFbseUS8V_4qVn8QDl2A2_PNQVuroF2mWqztcSR3aw7AESnYG_0AfQ/s400/DSC_0092.jpg" border="0" />
<br />
<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5648226285694272370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_CYt2hzXkz1zXNfBNscW4ywBsnn3PfEvLVywAjw7txfr3FJ13Mpu_CrJw7M9NiyXLdrRq07bYoNSwNNyNqvo7SGbNB-bLNkUCgGaIMGodK-iKF7RkWROSP_z7gbUDoykHt-AVlsuN0KBI/s400/DSC_0041.jpg" border="0" />
<br />
<br /><div></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /><div></div></div>
<br />Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15744237717440758988noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4579111613978814570.post-51373321407871005632011-05-14T18:57:00.000-07:002011-05-14T21:01:51.217-07:00EasterEaster is my second favorite holiday. It's falls very closely behind Thanksgiving. Because of the food of course. I love Thanksgiving food. Wait Easter. Oh yeah, ok. I like Easter too. There's something about the time of year. Spring is so clean and new and green. The weather is usually fantastic. The clothes are fun. And I don't have to shop for gifts.<br /><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><br /><div><br /><div></div><br /><div>I also get to organize an Easter egg hunt. We have it every year at my parents house and invite friends and family. This was our 3rd year. The new tradition started after my Sax-Sax passed away. I have 11 cousins that all live close by and we loved Easter at my grandmothers house. After she passed away, we were looking for excuses to see each other. So we had an Easter party at my mothers house. We invited my aunts and uncles and cousins and some family friends. And now we do it every year. </div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606770098554342066" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtne8l2GKMvp51rh5O7AoCVmTOa5sIJXHkVEhve6rRMaDNOEx07SRjsSwLRFl8eCg1QAKAdA3j60HIZYLp7QXKi4MjrYJAW3KUHFSW-A6i3r-piuiiFfm3kZk64Rr28NV_Yyp-eVARa5N5/s320/DSC_0396.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 239px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606781269288928802" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1XFJyfMQcvQIirPvpc18iBswFlNoNjfEvPwWKGtTl4OwKP_pwYQyRINTzqwMgOzIZtOrjxd-4yRPQ3OZUNfbPNVc4OqDDIp8TNRFNWSR0fckYO30a9GLhfE6Z7BrbvMEvm_-ArZMQTM6s/s320/DSC_0480.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 238px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606772154615929138" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUpfY2Lx7cSL-5gd3ZqUST-xoIiba_sXmze9U8cauEnbuiwFX1iCJHiLfnvp6XJUqqLSHJj1Uzo9vzXB85Xr7IEH1S7lH3H9P_ZBKqbWrK5XqLHOIKFcpkhusKvqq96JKPSnGbiFy3CWUW/s320/DSC_0410.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 254px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606772158204313186" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-7kNB2W_c_BqvkRQ9Ua0iMrKtSMMjYHbBm8fAm5nWKC5PKoQSA-Q8REKU4aDuXPFWAAt9m4T_p26wxHPVSuzsQkxrKyWpeBWHn7ECWaWzlvgwO4OWw7Yp8gh3nR4LSmTfQAxyRenFZ7Tp/s320/DSC_0468.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 227px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606772150250285458" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_rcCCcx0sCTxOXyFVMzEyEOzrE0oomsSNabr7OsNrljAO_SbMGiBTRRtuYTSuR0StyD-3_VWBlXEQKPjlUIhfkRbuOs2SriiKo3pdWMXVFfjTicPaGh6dvW6oL1B_IlyB6Se1RuljBu-Q/s320/DSC_0405-2.jpg" /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div>It's so much fun. </div><br /><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 245px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606772147028596098" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh38z1pJdbFwH8T7HRIkd-_CNkPK7ZZW58HxTzZpeN-4mvSCfeErOPFK_MVEPlKK_zVB19ZhA2yQ4qVUkT9-LeZSK6wg8NB0KgoablIEczolyxpZI6Py3LSvTWFq5YNIb858umh4c7PG_uK/s320/DSC_0401.jpg" /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div>But more importantly, it's the meaning behind Easter that makes it so special.</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>This year Rhiannon was old enough to get it. To understand the true meaning of Easter. And that made the holiday even better. We read books about Easter and when asked what Easter was about, she woud say:</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>"Easter is about God's son Jesus. Jesus died to forgive us of our sins. He was dead for 3 days and then he rose from the grave and went to Heaven to live with God." She liked the 3 days part of it. </div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div>A church next to our house had a sunrise service on the lake so I took Rhiannon to her first sunrise service. Snuggling her and singing "Up from the Grave He Arose" and watching the sun light up her face as it rose over the lake was so powerful. I hope she remembers it as fondly as I remember attending the sunrise service with my dad and stepmother when I was a kid. </div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div>Afterwards we went home and Daddy and Henry had breakfast cooked. We saw that the Easter bunny had eaten his carrots and chocolate chips and drank his milk (Rhiannon insisted that was what the Easter bunny wanted). We checked out the cool things the Easter bunny left in the their baskets. And then we went to church with my family. </div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div>After church we had lunch and another Easter egg hunt at my mother's. Henry really got the hang of the egg hunting thing. Not only did he enjoy finding them in the grass. He also discovered that he could steal them from his sisters basket while she was busy stuffing her face with candy. </div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div>And then dinner and Easter egg hunt #3 at Mimi and Papa's. </div><br /><div></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606784118179671986" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivarRbEPBlG3bKQNem6CgOlsJT4pFKYtN5ISSovXdNKBuMJ6CDO8D6FdMS6y2cW13TomCo7mSMKyXMQQ5fmS0_msCJ-X-GlBncWV1mejNyMx08ii_xOe4D5lkzM4D0OokVXfY-fnvPIVS0/s320/DSC_1012.jpg" /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606783193443982834" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQxyQlfYltSxzTxfCEK5TuCk2nGDZKWWaWQOIScl7lNii9g_jUknLbxpBe84JjJ9SW5IFR26oar3cDaB5nwjJ6EMdk8kS74MBM74qWjwfQy1K73N-fobUTnuT61x9XLoW2lXbhWW72nhzc/s320/DSC_1008.jpg" /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div>What a memorable and amazing holiday. </div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div>Happy Easter from the Crains!</div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5606782447097693490" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgItwLRGDVn2dxlMHNl9rcC6Y_JRlI1XY-7Nmitu66C3eAiLHDVAoUeDcnaLJOns5BuGvyeo6RO6HpaZrvBL-Jl3nzQJQK1sksAutHo-rYPiF5ZppH128Q6Pfy6jjcqbGrmkyTJr6SsijSx/s320/DSC_0875.jpg" /> <br /><div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15744237717440758988noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4579111613978814570.post-25213492802985667952011-05-06T19:58:00.000-07:002011-05-06T20:29:26.728-07:00Boys<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdwO-yhqMRuYz5_aIrEBNmeO126BUTJDFWHhAr0wzLlfyGCl0njpqDHsZbglT6nzrcCi0t4eY3GKCRB0X8DhhDLjiGTEa7Wvnfo58YOFQeXIbp8CIvAbI9tICaqKidyHtcepqGW8POJkht/s1600/DSC_0038.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5603810287963447954" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdwO-yhqMRuYz5_aIrEBNmeO126BUTJDFWHhAr0wzLlfyGCl0njpqDHsZbglT6nzrcCi0t4eY3GKCRB0X8DhhDLjiGTEa7Wvnfo58YOFQeXIbp8CIvAbI9tICaqKidyHtcepqGW8POJkht/s400/DSC_0038.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div>Boys. . . </div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div>Boys throw everything like it's a baseball. I have injuries from sippy cups, toys, food hurled at like 100 mph. Ouch. </div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div>Boys sometimes like dolls. It means he will be a good Daddy right? It's pretty cute to see Henry walking around the house with a baby on his shoulder and that sweet little hand patting the baby's back. I swear he plays with Rhiannon's dolls more than she does.</div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div>Boys are sneaky. They know if they continue to throw "B" from the crib and cry for "B" that Mommy will come back in the room to save "B". Any there is always hope that Mommy will then pick baby boy up and snuggle him some more. </div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div>Boys are leaky. How do they pee this much? How big of a diaper do I need to buy? And how can you sleep that wet? And why are you so happy in the morning even when your pajamas are soaked? And why do you pee in the bathtub? Every. Single. Night. Your sister is OVER it. </div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div>Boys do not wean themselves. My girl did. My boy? Not a chance. But Mommy got bit again last week. And there was blood involved. So my little vampire got cut off. Sorry little dude. But I think 14 months is enough. </div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div>Boys like lawn mowers and tractors. And are obsessed with riding them with Grandfathers and Daddys. </div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div>Boys love their sisters. Rhiannon now comes and wakes me up in the morning "Mommy, let's go get Henry!" Now when we go in Henry's room, I'm no longer greated with "Mama, Mama!". Now it's "Ree Ree! Ree Ree!" with outstretched arms for his big sister.</div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div>My boy is now 14 months old. And I still have a whole to learn. About boys. Lord help me. </div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div></div>Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15744237717440758988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4579111613978814570.post-49197516929027132902011-04-17T19:58:00.001-07:002011-04-21T08:28:13.313-07:00My birthday Monkey<div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div>Good news! I got my stupid Gateway back! And guess what? I lost all my pictures just as I feared. So I have sulked for a couple of weeks. But I need to focus on the good news. I still have all the pictures of Henry's birthday party. Along with some great pics that my best bud Jessica took of his party as well. </div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div>So my boy turned one on Feb 22. I struggled with where to have his party. Winter is a tough time to have a birthday. I didn't want to rent something for a baby's birthday. So we chose to have it at our home. Trouble is our home. It ain't big. And our family is. BIG. So we decided just to have a small little gathering. </div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>And I decided on a monkey theme. </div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5596757303812814834" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhId1zYTnGaw6zAWjQxSA9y5-HZelNJ-tNOIJiM33EjAnARfTY_GMlQDFb_yshxrgLAEazjPnTV5QYh1C6lHnsqIeEYZsEnCIUEGtCJ6W9g3lIGmLVEPgQDpBv_aoulelkZPgwKJ2pM3vrR/s320/DSC_0015+%25282%2529.JPG" /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>Monkey pops! </div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598049063240489506" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3pJ6PxSbdxpE3_VMej8pGCmfnowamqY_2CztsFDziKh4wyRMrT-LRVk0iOMokyo4vuNKbg1s7g2LtJ5-KyCcXB_y_K4c-RYuUTC9Rsi1caq_fxkn_ZTzYhIX1XLG2YvwGQP70D7amMrGA/s320/182938_1735561922935_1655195883_1712348_6204655_n.jpg" /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>Henry had a monkey "Henry is one" t-shirt to wear for early party and cake eating. Then a monkey longall for after cake. I made monkey cake pops. We had monkey plates and party favors. (I had more pictures of all this. . . but you know. . . they're in cyber space)</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>Henry had a stomach bug the day of his party. I did not know this yet. But right before his party he exploded all over his monkey t-shirt. I threw it in the washer to clean before the party. It was not quite dry yet when the guests arrived. So they were greated with this. Yes, he is holding Cinderella. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 213px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5596757291477001458" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-sVpT3lKfaBZrKko-h7aCpMf-HCfQcDmuvvYYKhbVTia8DAmBDBTNWpWhim6Zd65-IkSEgVF4-oKGOPt1eMsrGU35k87XfJyNfXyMwXyCpQ-X96mKckZSAfo0onsCmJyPPMo5f8DciDG4/s320/DSC_0002+%25282%2529.JPG" /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>"See my belly button?" We like to party redneck style! I promise I put a shirt on the child eventually. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 213px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5596757286004493762" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL-yu9v9aAu4cqkQfJ1Ez1mJp0DbZRhA4aY-xC_MYBZ-B2pjmyVnktqkZhk722WjVst_I2yDOKkrHfaoULDZdU9zQtfmaVVaOnRKDEUg8MPV1_tv6ct6YLd-870z8ZH_9qdqmpwV54V2re/s320/DSC_0005+%25282%2529.JPG" /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>Henry was not a big fan of his cake. Probably because he was sick. (You can send me my Mother of the Year award at any time.) But the monkey pop made a nice cake smashing tool. But see? He's wearing a shirt now! <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598054224488767730" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGrTAJqohZVzYcQeb2wXauUpJKWY7E2mAntU3oCea3T3oev0xONpKsqWV1Y08OFFcFi-WAEuA8Cv7Gtui1NWrz2a-qeYBvwXs8RvZsvdfy2OSOju66HEkUbHjiYRVm-HJxNF9R4eD8xzU7/s320/DSC_0060.JPG" /></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>Monkey outfit #2 and opening gifts. </div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 214px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598050342928503794" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEify5hh3ZQHnmfbWG9e7BOSNODtC472ZoxBfw4du_MmkFFcF_mwSGDv0HYJYBztsfGbz0HCD81beriFINUyoi-gnlntv0IdH_uJBruA1mX2UKYr4isyvSvb160zBw27z1KDSmJ3HlYa8yGu/s320/DSC_0080.JPG" /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br />Henry and his grandfathers. Two of them anyway. These two particular pictures melt my heart. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 205px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598049058807120322" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUVF6itHxbsrehvfPjNSQ3Wux-iJLzkBHe86Dz9O1fNpjI5D0ZUGlKFGwi-EK0PwMmhWZ8Ng4tEJmEto1POvcEnoNOGxMAdCSd4_9KkeKXkiBteGabU4SlnBqwlB6yyoQnX_2vsKFko6kV/s320/DSC_0016.JPG" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598049048792696002" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3_J2GttRRNGa1aqabuqnaUfiaK4Vp_g4ovQhdCeCTbfpuaUXaNwhEkKf-yYrM455Yk7WHeF-yqHj7WHkdQo2zzdcKFhl_UsohGb9M_y0RNDHvpGwc4-8BCjbxRN2Rfg5tMJKtWEqABmJn/s320/DSC_0018.JPG" /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>Cooper! </div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 213px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598049066734463234" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipPUBiLpshDqdCiDF5q86plxHoGn0Aez8T0km2VPZzZLiZN8mzMx8DdTOlsznuXYOaVbjYtGGOsMifCnDnycpK6OukRavgAdUS11WXibQYNW4PRdLJuGjfNMEcVgAQUUcKFbwGAyeD4er5/s320/DSC_0036.JPG" /><br /><br />And all of the little party people. Yes, this is outfit #3 for Henry. This one was not planned but he pooped on outfits #1 and #2. Luckily, this had a monkey on it too. Henry is flirting with Kate here. Michele and I may set them up one day. Henry likes older women. </div><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598054231324509090" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnCwAgWumXr7mjva5RBnZwu2MicWRn2srojtVr-kOSCua-GTXT05xfMAkSf6MfyI24gZeTTvS6VDSrLoMyUpDdDBM14yiJBhSqTwVgrazQYfZiH1i6PtnpRbGXlClyNKCWvn5apCo3o0N4/s320/DSC_0132.JPG" /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>And I had to add this one. These two beautiful ladies are my oldest friends. Jessica and I have been friends since 4th grade. And we met Heather (yes Jessica has two Heather's) in middle school. This pic is of the three of us and our kids. We take this picture every year. And lately we've been adding a kid every year! I think we're done adding now though. . . From left to right: Jessica, Colton (Heather's), Isabella (Jessica's) is holding Henry, I'm holding the newest addition Cooper (Heather's) and then Hudson (Jessica's) and Rhiannon and her shoe. Age of children? 7, 5, 4 (next week), 3, 1 and 9 months. </div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 214px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5598054234909106850" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7u1YJK8SEWjvcoJatXXFUQdTkSvRxreY2DTSNe5-q33CKWxnk_CuT11FjbpZA94t1ykHCz52zNtrbuoexH0Bh2v2t_DCn3SqnN2rOpT_dFh0h4EHOc9l0zmCflA3y40tt4Wpd_-q7GNZ8/s320/DSC_0150.JPG" /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>Thanks for all that celebrated with us. Happy Birthday Henry! </div></div></div></div></div>Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15744237717440758988noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4579111613978814570.post-91526163316803083452011-03-16T08:16:00.000-07:002011-03-16T08:24:35.700-07:00Where is Mama?Where have I been. Keeping up with you blogs. And not posting any updates to my own. <br />Why you ask? <br />Because my d#*n brand new laptop that Russ and I bought for Christmas died. It's sole purpose in it's huge memory glory was to house and edit my photos from my beloved new Nikon. <br />But instead it died. Right after I downloaded my entire photocard to it. And before I backed it up. <br />Moral of this story. Don't buy a Gateway. Even if the specs look glorious. It's not. <br />I think it's coming back today from repair. But they were not hopeful that my hard drive would be restored. So I lost pictures from January and February. Including all the pictures I took of Henry walking for the first time and the cute little Monkey Pops I made for his birthday. <br />I also cannot download any pictures to update the blog because I don't want to use my work computer. Which I'm on now. <br />So, no updates. Just a lot of bitterness. Towards Gateway. <br />But here is a Crain family update. We have put our house on the market! There's a big sign in my front yard. I even bought a statue of St Joseph to bury in the front yard to help sell it. Nope. Not catholic. Just a desperate southen baptist. Who is willing to try some additional prayer and a statue if it will bring us one step closer to building our final home. So, wish us luck!Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15744237717440758988noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4579111613978814570.post-89297781462373646292011-02-24T07:09:00.000-08:002011-02-24T07:14:39.981-08:00I seem to missing something.Today is day 2 at work without my breast pump. I had thought that I would be thrilled to not lug that thing around anymore. I was about to throw it out the window a few weeks ago. But it's a little sad. I'm not sure if I miss the responsibility or the magazine break twice a day while at the office. <br />Oh well. That chapter is over. I'm still nursing in the morning and before bed. And will continue until he doesn't want to anymore. I'm not quite ready to lose that bonding time yet. I'm sure Henry will be soon as he already has skipped the night feeding a couple of times this week. But that morning feeding is the best. All snuggled up with my sleepy baby boy in my bed with Rhiannon next to me watching cartoons. <br />I may cry when that stops. <br />I've been crying a lot lately. Can you tell? <br />I guess I will just spend my magazine time blogging. Or mabye I should work. . .Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15744237717440758988noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4579111613978814570.post-14435659110469994562011-02-21T20:47:00.000-08:002011-02-21T21:15:27.097-08:00In just a few minutes. . .<div>So normally I use this blog to tell you about my children. I try to share pictures and funny stories. But today I'm just going to share my thoughts. Russ has been snoring for hours now and I should be in bed but I'm having trouble because of my thoughts. Of course the thoughts are about my children. About one in particular tonight. Henry. Because in just a few minutes, he will be one year old. </div><br /><br /><div>I sat in my chair this evening and tried to catch up on some Grey's that I had DVR'd. I had to pause every so often and go and rock a sick little boy. Sick. On his birthday. But as sad as that sounds, it just means that I have an excuse to go and rock him and kiss him and smell him and squeeze him. In the same rocker that I sat in for hours and hours when he was just born. As he screamed and finally passed out on my chest. I would sit there and cry because I was the worst Mommy in the world because I couldn't comfort my son. And tonight I cried because I was all he wanted. And he is so big lying stretched across my body. Weighing what seems like a million pounds. And he smells wonderful. And feels wonderful. And I just rocked and cried getting big fat crocodile tears on his sweet blonde head. </div><br /><br /><div>And it didn't help that on my episode of Greys, Callie is pregnant. And bleeding. And at the OB wanting to know what was wrong. And they finally heard the heart beat. And I cried more. Because I remember. </div><br /><br /><div>I remember on July 17 at 9 weeks pregnant. I was driving home from work on a Friday evening and was sitting at the red light at Jesse Jewel and I felt something wrong. And I looked down to see that I was sitting in a puddle of blood. I drove home as I continued to feel the puddle grow. I got home and went to bathroom and remember sitting there on the toilet and and watching it fill with blood. Russ came home and found me crying and digging in the toilet, sifting through the clots because I just knew that it was pieces of my baby. We called the dr and they sent us to the emergency room. I remember the ultrasound tech at the ER. I remember her because it was the same tech we saw at the ER when I had bleeding with Rhiannon. And she can't tell me anything. And then after several hours, we see the doctor. That sweet wonderful doctor that tells me that the baby is fine. I remember going to my OB that Monday after a LONG worried weekend and hearing the best sound in the world. My baby's heartbeat. Thank you Jesus. </div><br /><br /><div>Henry, you scared me to death my entire pregnancy. I thought I lost you a half a dozen times. I layed in bed for 17 weeks because we thought you would be early. I got a shot in my butt every week for 19 weeks. 19 shots to help you cook. </div><br /><br /><div>But in the end, you gave me the experience I was longing for. My water broke in the middle of the night 3 days after your due date. We got to race to the hospital and wait in excitement through the contractions instead of fear. </div><br /><br /><div>And my favorite part? Seeing Dr Cox hold us this beautiful, BIG, pink BOY. With a head full of gorgeous dark brown hair. And you were healthy and breathing. And it was all worth it. </div><br /><br /><div>I'm not saying I would do it again. But I was glad to do it for you. Only you. </div><br /><br /><div>Happy Birthday Henry. I don't know how this year has gone by so fast. But you are so much fun and everything that I wanted. God gave us you and I thank him every day for that. We love you Bubba. </div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576377767287516674" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWRgvQtHXgtr-snk0kEytTvzAWMjjlLi3IHoUBBA94n7fl-Ce8TlavL8sMQZLAL5j9uq7Itv65ZVuPM21WtPQCWi6QDlPKXLZMHo4g8pP4Mub9HNyoRXgiGmm7l3VdOFGM3tc63N3JbKqx/s400/Henry+1+day.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5576377177489644642" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirUsHhA_vULoCo_Vn9Hi0k_oGpdjXXGcR3SWicWNCd2SRXwLkAU-kT-A4F2zA00gimgEaK-T8jNBPFS5VFIYkbPw026bIU1ZnXa_g0PN0QzUQp6x4nBkNRdC51r2o4JDxSx9wmbXvaTGyd/s400/DSC_0113+edit.jpg" /><br /><br /><div></div>Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15744237717440758988noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4579111613978814570.post-42645067765731228872011-01-17T08:13:00.001-08:002011-01-17T11:18:18.637-08:00In love with BThose of you that follow my blog then I'm sure know all about "B". <a href="http://babycrain.blogspot.com/2010/08/b.html">See older post for some history</a>:<br /><br /><div></div><br /><div><div></div><div>Well guess who else is in love with her? </div><div></div><br /><div>Henry. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>He screams "BEEEEEE!!!" in delight when she is left unattended. And then crawls to her just as fast as he can. Then attacks her with slobbery hugs and kisses. </div><div></div><br /><br /><div>Rhiannon isn't fond of this attachment. She asks me to "Save B!" or "Mommy, will you protect B please?" </div><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>For Christmas, Rhiannon gave Henry his own B. A blue version of course. </div><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>Here is a picture of the new guy. And a comparison to Rhiannon's B. Yes folks. This IS what B used to look like when she was a young bunny. You can tell that after much strawberry, PBJ, and honey kisses, wet beds, and dirt, she's been washed many times and very well loved. </div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5563191198336672450" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzgHdYVvIplOfj522M2lwh2NI658Rfm08DZlCvxo72Qk-vlFkJT1Nnvsbg5XC_l-6pky90kGpEYZyoUtOPzHKbhFgP5lmkeiwBNp0-3_36BU-B08v7KYWN43JclX4COC-wlNf2Szts1HSq/s400/DSC_0554.JPG" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5563191183964760306" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisKEAq-lyUMbwahDvnOveT-mfGYoAgOe93DDrjhCAmxzg3Pmh1c0Ti53y3kTS3f02VZ_sXV-rMWW5VRhw0q-6IQ80T3Ah5M-I3fPZVWk6n0v9czW3Ntx3Vv7uR6k4e_UoxzDbSAvSe9xHh/s400/DSC_0553.JPG" /><br /><br /><div>Henry loves his "Blue B." See <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2jcq-BfQkLw">video</a> for proof. . . </div><br /><div></div><div>Of course, still not quite as much as Rhiannon's B! </div></div>Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15744237717440758988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4579111613978814570.post-68190069667339543382011-01-04T21:29:00.000-08:002011-01-10T19:33:18.386-08:0010 at 10<div><br /><br /><div><br /><div><div><div><div><div>My New Year's Resolution revolves around my babies: upload pictures, update blog, update baby books/journals, and enjoy every second. Because I cannot believe how fast this year has gone by. It seems like a few weeks ago we were celebrating New Years as a family of 3 with Fat Pregnant Mama Crain sipping sparkling grape juice on the couch. And yet, we just had New Years with our family of 4! </div><br /><div>So, to start, this post is about my baby boy. Who is now 10 months old. Well, 10 1/2 months old. Geez!! </div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 298px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560757586877542690" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGE87pQNYO4LAys_eSBovwiwGpRDe2szio0v0T04ThGWSJCCVcQKqwHqwJxIS-jWxjr67helgDqo71cSmEZnUUUxrXpGpGCFMkt5AQM13kOEIVGWxuMBE1m0CTPOTropv4Y5q5kXF_RB1R/s400/DSC_1032+%25282%2529_edited.jpg" /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560757584600863090" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp973nQUxrwc238FZvtZJmHCExMnXtiq8YNuD1nzBOcS9VbAxMnMajtYxVdoV7W-kFhB-8OaP2kq8jDNaBpWTZr1f0PC7GTBKI1zmTxvIi25aLxVgi6K7zYqECadTJM6IN7lKaWMoJS-gx/s400/CSC_1062_edited.jpg" /><br /><div>10 of my favorite things about my little man: </div><br /><br /><div></div><div>10. Kisses. When I ask for a kiss, you will now give me a kiss. When I walk into your room in the morning, and pick up my smiling laughing baby boy. I'm not only greeted with a pat on the back, you lean in to kiss me. No request necessary from me. My are you affectionate. </div><div></div><br /><br /><div>9. Your laugh. In your eyes, I'm the funniest person alive. With one little glance I can get a chuckle. With a few words or songs, I can get a belly laugh. Thanks for feeding my ego. And filling our house with another sweet giggle. A little deeper than the 3 year old high pitched one that I was accustomed to hearing. And together, a symphony to my ears. </div><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560765095620604690" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc7wTQAgiieaiC1ryiZDQ9Jb57CT7iASPW-ji3o3mDWUL3xRwcFPB3UHGaq8dvxMq4xek_hUn6o7IiDuewOpLoDSNKMGE9q-Zk0NwqAlOnAS_rgFrvYTAM0eiFwaw5MXu8zy_q8J3NMVn7/s400/DSC_0539.JPG" /><br /><div></div><div>8. Your absolute refusal to "walk". You have been crawling since 5 months. Standing up on your own without assistance at 7 months. From a standing position you can reach down and pick up a toy and stand back up. All without holidng on to anything. But you hate to "walk" around holding someones hands. You may just crawl forever. But you're my baby so you take as long as you like. You can also live with me until you're 85. </div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560762394528274546" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOys02IEjgHHz_PlKv67pXE1gW2s7aXhrhfZIIY3-e8tF1jjvm-S8ea_ydWN454c0yPCCGr67RagNQYnR9-hQr3tskNsQ1O7qE3ZMOQ08-gi0Lin9AVOheXHqeyophjGyl8q8RNMaUdSuz/s400/DSC_0101.JPG" /><br /><br /><div></div><div>7. You will eat ANYTHING. I have yet to give you a food that you will not eat. Every kind of baby food, collards, turnips, avacodo, spaghetti, peas. I hope you always are this easy to please. You definitely have your Mama's appetite. </div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560762397244045906" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUWizQ_DCVywRJbCJmI752mYH2X7euaY9akdJr847p-gi-rCCPMmK4QHcN2uxzyL0DHpbgkW6-grRYu2nxQKI1aF7y1_u3FcgKGbEBb5WbdS4_KlRHqb4DXP40l2KVX90SkQGwJ6k_bRUH/s400/DSC_0919+%25282%2529.JPG" /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><div>6. You have already learned to fight back against your sister. She's a bossy thing and has a mean streak like you wouldn't believe. You will need to be strong to put up with her. I know all about bossy big sisters. I was one. Wait. I AM one. It's good that you take your toy back. You should always stand up for yourself. </div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><div>5. Maybe I don't like this. But it is cute. When I attempt to disipline you with my meanest, sternest "NO". You laugh at me. Thanks. </div><br /><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560765093715904402" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVyLqWBTab3ff0rGDuHS0MLG5WxEw0veKUfGAzZoqTG2HAqMazTjsQRmbhV6lk-1oAifQoXN6fEgg7CTamD2UrnEPaAdt26UJWQ-GkX7yocmKUf-uFUId8HZhWcHyCe25XASUoy2lkL5jL/s400/DSC_0904+%25282%2529.JPG" /><br /><div></div><div>4. You have some sort of radar to know exactly when I turn in for the night. I finally get everything finished around the house, take my shower, get in the bed, turn out the light, pull the comforter over my head. At that exact moment. You cry. Most nights, you settle down on your own. But lately I have had to go in your room. I don't have to pick you up. I just have to stand by your crib. As long as you know I'm there, you settle down. While this is flattering, Mommy does need a little sleep please. </div><div></div><br /><div>3. You are Mommy's boy. I can come home from work and peak in the living room to see you playing perfectly content with your toys. But as soon as you realize I'm home, I have to carry you around for the rest of the evening. But, you're my baby. You can be Mommy's boy forever. </div><br /><br /><div></div><div>2. Your love for music. You love to dance, help Daddy play the guitar and play your drum. You also will sing when the rest of us are singing. It's the sweetest sound in the world. </div><div></div><br /><div>1. My heart. I now understand what my grandmother and Mama have always said. Little boys have a special place in their Mommy's heart. I can't believe you are the same fussy baby that about made me lose my mind 9 1/2 months ago. But by getting through those first few weeks, we formed a bond closer than no other. I get you. I need you. And little boy, oh how I love you. </div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560762390922260866" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin88wpCOMBf51tJOZEHOk_HPs-LPbJqIQGO40XscDV45ISaFZyJE0dOukoDKsHR4RGgZxgNDvh5RFSExCd55a7czs_H-hiezQdCS5fLbycj11EsARIfGyb_C8bXKEKoNhtDLFrE3_qu0fV/s400/CSC_0735.JPG" /><br /><br /><div></div><div> </div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15744237717440758988noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4579111613978814570.post-68243139213184329152010-12-21T20:38:00.000-08:002010-12-21T21:08:54.870-08:00Santa pics<div><div>Today is December 21st and I finally took the kids to see Santa tonight. Our lives have been crazy with wedding planning, work, Christmas parties. We haven't slowed down. But I made it a priority this week to get pictures made with St Nick.<br /></div><div>Also in the plan was to have Santa talk to Rhiannon about Hermie. Who is Hermie? Hermie is our "Elf on the Shelf". He was sent to us this year from the jolly guy at the North Pole. Everyone else had one and I had heard so many stories from these folks about how much their kids enjoy the elf. And even better, they behave better. That got me on board. My 3 year old needs some miracle for better behavior because Lord knows all the other things we're trying wasn't working. Well, guess what? She doesn't buy into the Elf thing. She named him. Hermigan. Later shortened to Hermie after she watched Rudolph and was excited that the elf on the show had a similar name to her elf. But other than that, she could care less. Shed told me that he doesn't have magic. I move him every night. I try to be creative. Most nights that means me getting out of bed and staggering into the living room to move the damn thing because I had forgotten before bed. But she doesn't look for him. She gets mad when he has her toys or cups. And he certainly doesn't make her behave better.<br /></div><div>So a guy I work with said that he told the helper at Santa photos to tell Santa to ask his 3 year old daughter about their elf. That apparently helped their situation.<br /></div><div>I forgot to tell the helper. I was too obsessed in getting the picture taken.<br /></div><div>I did hear Rhiannon tell Santa that she wanted a pink doll house though. Whew. Thank goodness I got that one right.<br /></div><div>Back to photos. I was a tad worried about Henry. He cries when anyone holds him other than me, my mom, and Papa Rusty. He has some stranger anxiety. Who am I kidding. He's a Mama's boy! I was pretty sure that big man with white beard might make him cry. However, he did great! For the first 5 minutes anyway. He was smiling and looking at Santa. Great picture opps. What about Rhiannon? She has some smile that she thinks is cute. And it is cute, if she would actually look up from the floor. Wierd little chick. By the time we got her to look at the camera. (That involved me dancing behind the photographer. You would have been amused.) Henry was crying. Oh well. This is what we got. . . </div><div> </div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 286px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553365079191846050" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxx6bZ11UJfzGD55UbSJnKJJ2xzfuANMnQenwTNU6ZejcJvaa2esON43UZRMxyWG-HWjwZSDt9hnCD4zr1puUSoDTEjouDm_rUbw6EMnkLLpCiAfKQ4KwTaci5N_xffCegv7Mdnp7OP6nJ/s400/MyPicture.jpg" /><br /><div></div><div></div><div>And some past pictures. . . </div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553367265665878130" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB50XwR6aTk0iIdMcaxDnzEe2BolUYCw7oD7uUFu8kaUWRyssBvmk_4OGVn6BNC696CnccewH8NmLvBBBBoHw86jWgxDwLsneUjzjM_VbqUyAKLA3AFaBckOpOLKEhErthvlhPf9kmQLym/s400/n573525486_2349992_8398.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 300px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553367267194374066" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiX5k5366xhe2EX0keo5VcEpQRczgkKlCoscscqtkmgWAXAfaalZ7ZpIexsIs43P7YscBb3czfd3uq-goyLqXWuqXd7KtE1BhIcQSCuMsWb0YXYekH7TIElhgG_drjJ2cGqgBqjI5lFNX7V/s400/n573525486_2349991_8087.jpg" /><br /><br /><p>This was Rhiannon's first Christmas. Because of her prematurity and RSV season, I wasn't about to take her to see a "dirty" Santa at the mall. So a friend of ours that dresses up each year to visit nursing homes, stopped by with his wife and his daughter Gabby. She is the sweet little elf. Rhiannon was so little! </p><br /><p>For 2008 and 2009 pics with Santa, check out the post below. </p><a href="http://babycrain.blogspot.com/2009/12/visit-with-santa.html">http://babycrain.blogspot.com/2009/12/visit-with-santa.html</a><br /><br /><br /><p></p><br /><br /><br /><p><br /><br /></p><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div>Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15744237717440758988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4579111613978814570.post-72992028620162460872010-12-07T07:19:00.000-08:002010-12-07T07:38:26.271-08:004 days<div>In just 4 short days, my little brother will be getting married.<br /><div><br /><div><div><div><br /><div>Stephen and I are almost exactly 2 years apart. Both July babies. And since the moment Mama and Dad brought him home from the hospital, we've been best friends. After our parents divorced, we would visit my Dad's every other weekend, together. We would go to my Granny Howard's while my mother worked every day, together. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 267px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547962945528190162" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUShsD5hLaeD18EL6LmrAgy8ytZfc6U8cKrXXtLIFNVO3Gr6kInxKr3PivDDXYCEqIqB_lfgPPn3Y-7F_c4n0ROn-EsdBfVpEVPloSd2HVqqvir_Jqbu5Uv6CjbSUmYtWDN-mliAE3Kh5v/s400/stephen+wedding+022.jpg" /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 291px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547964487939432978" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuPCHqb0ROiQuJKm0W6D8xayptx8ze9BdLSJIJnMPWve1UdzpBpuUSqHvfdM6ccPRbkJ-qckd0mzDXJHpjel_RG0KUyStItE9m0RKzutnAJ2wswCyPGczS_Px4N5L7JhMzC5sLueSasqUy/s400/stephen+wedding.jpg" />When I started kindergarten, my little buddy walked me to the top of our driveway and waited with me until the bus picked me up. I think it's a little strange that my Mama let her 3 year old stand by the road with only his 5 year old sister and no adult but she claims she watched from the front door. After the bus picked me up, he walked back down to the house to wait on me to get off the bus that afternoon. </div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 267px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547962955681327474" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivauCNFLTCc0U6kLzl9JfsWxxL-5z5szT2CNeYtVdik4UKDJh_PsE1E2GcoQ8ORbBlmWYV_ySSs830IfoeUOs30dHUK6xXoxvu0HdR7dZh8E3CgbWPj1dJ1-3cbVkWPjQlR_vLKm2AMcjg/s400/stephen+wedding+070.jpg" /> We have always been the best of playmates and as adults, truly the best of friends. I usually speak to him at least once a day. Lately, like 15 million times a day but who is counting? <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 278px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547962945097540786" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8Dpn0twOt76k5_Gkojqj6aA0P_8TRKjoFA4xJKhDykYYboHtLOVIt6hDJCBcSnq2p3dGxAofGuJ8Smmyjagxuh5vM_oi6e-aMMvNEOg5IeMFtRju1g2wTzXOB_UGh5Nx3vRCW-TaxrYTC/s400/stephen+wedding+086.jpg" /><br /><div>As the days count down until his big day, I'm so thankful that he's found his love. It's all I have ever wanted for him. I always knew he would make someone an incredible husband one day. And I'm going to take just a little credit in that. </div><br /><div>Welcome to our family Jenny. We're blessed to have you. Thank you again for the permanent smile you put on my little brother's face. </div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 300px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547962939233500226" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3GHta1AfI_Naw9ac2ob4rcP2r8YzE3r4ARAOXTkep35Yj2a3v5Ks0ll9LOMnYaVU5C3cao1BO9jBB0OyGXQea30seu9B1ePhWyPm-Iy8kHsUBdkzSAauj5s07AzDss_sCjGCVqPjQ_JCl/s400/1031CouplesEllenburgHoward.jpg" /><br /><div> </div></div></div></div></div></div>Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15744237717440758988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4579111613978814570.post-82233129402343522642010-10-28T20:11:00.000-07:002010-10-28T21:03:17.065-07:00Brush<div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div><div>Hi Mommy.<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533308720062705954" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5tE1KVNf8mlhzBw_SakCIND7TLnVNaaq-qhDwv_l7C7sjJNQtloJQwbHaySOx_c293GD4BfsAB0tV9yu8JSxSIYB7kpj4JAr5Jb-oCLA7mkG3BBytM2cJpezTWaV0Bhl_ECF1ovKhLdk5/s400/DSC_0637.JPG" /> I found this brush. Wonder what I should do with it. </div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533312212942683426" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFTy69ZNMIb0FG4Y_-ZdE34KY7m9A8iZVs_A5ItLXVJk0rNEzWwdze-hf1Esqc7Pr62oDF_sSJsvmShG_CSy8TRIAY5XX_TPScqSNznFpYDdtTQR4o7I6eam2amUjnvjkjqCMOdoyerbsT/s400/DSC_0639.JPG" /><br /><div>Ah ha. There's my lion! He looks like he needs to be groomed. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533306898743606274" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwbg8kUfsCmHIzX8ubr31sPWB1XZ91XuJoMkM4j4HwqFhay1OjFQfzyq7HfslRhLas9oeIZiiJyu-moWyqM0ZaCedKLe7covCTyvnBI-_XdvSOpsCzYVi-GDeYB1HnVhguOQpe8QVf8pCD/s400/DSC_0640.JPG" /><br />Let me just get a little closer. </div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533313117321838146" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9vjpJ0UtFCQLP-1REpLqnOk1M2TtTKYnnqMiySNP6Ft8FEZy0SHNX2mzxnnjBUQsqb2CrIqXD57iu_82pzVC5GDDXagSpdxyN1TVqvzxQiq4pkDVVarE-YFTi4zIG-iR70N2eA9uHF84M/s400/DSC_0638.JPG" /> <div>OK big guy. <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533306901922998098" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg41zec25t_hlPRcC9x1Btn0uUhP_WbQCdxudH7vOo0LhOXOJ_deFhNUp4a5mQesTb6u8pcNiVImUW_kCgEHOFiQHUvUKNFryx_keeHIKCRrOc2WT5oP5UfY6NnJNhRhzDB8hcGTg_slab8/s400/DSC_0636.JPG" /></div><div>Oh, how do you like my shirt? Roll Tide!! <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533308732109064354" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNTOgebpIYlB6OOWEOJLcXxWMrTFtlK7ri4FtwdyNkcVmLVGrP1FHJmrInWJSJN3UkYbxQhDZkn5jfjOKk_I7mXf7YGIkNPEF89GuUCvtMyqLJ6-m2cApUa74ERSPLs7NqhVrBlNeTjkut/s400/DSC_0633.JPG" /></div><br /><div>And you know what makes it even cuter? <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533308723779262274" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNhnrbSt-C2pY5vhPGukc_15jcPq-n2jpmXSL_4hWuHa21dmIOLTNjp_c1ew15rmQEy0bwT5ELiCgdvyZpk191wsdJKGq3sc96WXZl70T5ljzUKdZMxuBouZHckwjMQz9FF3a0GGzwR3Sh/s400/DSC_0631.JPG" /></div><br /><br /><div>Okay, besides these cute legs? <img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533310441470149826" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ1WdgKWh-H-iMAsdYgAz2ytxAip4BiPBxmYNqlQ28LjD-pYeSthdQsiOAk3raEkF3zxA5rgGO5iOgdedEcRAV1N7h7onGHpY2yrHL1djyJqlz8Fwi57gDYICvfAux1JDG_z49ZLJOFXIC/s400/DSC_0624.JPG" /></div><br /><div>It was my Daddy's! It's vintage! </div><br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5533310435836590258" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM-RuOjnZOcB2e0-sqAWcozm6qvLWfVxvXTVi9Xo1mwQA8BKUhlRGdd0BWycpwL1zlZ2L4Ovh9ST2qo5Z32aSnb9U852zjN9_9NHEjR41eWfpESHCrFFoS6FUpAZ17Qjh0ZR3PEskIXDFB/s400/DSC_0622.JPG" /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15744237717440758988noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4579111613978814570.post-21965562222860066942010-09-23T07:11:00.000-07:002010-09-23T07:17:51.846-07:00Pictures of my heartWould you like to see a picture of my heart? <div> </div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5520112400081960274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 267px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ3KRj8I37k3pVVGg26BgkneC_ptOKgiNk1f8B87XMs79zgLxTTo_CwWb840aLys6NT0zZypYKfhJuA3uXQMIimHCF5BaGr-HxsCkBWjPrzP0HljaCS9mlhy_fzzS6ALeetLvlBWmjyYZm/s400/IMG_5605.jpg" border="0" /><br /><div></div><div>That's it. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>This picture just melts me. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>We had pictures taken for Rhiannon's 3 year and Henry's 6 months and they are without a doubt my favorite pictures yet. I have them all saved on my digital frame on my desk and it makes it really hard to concentrate at work. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Both kids were in such a great mood and the photographer was so awesome. </div><br /><div></div><br /><div>Check her and the rest of the pictures from the shoot at: </div><br /><div><a href="http://amberpricephotography.blogspot.com/2010/09/rhiannon-and-henry.html">http://amberpricephotography.blogspot.com/2010/09/rhiannon-and-henry.html</a></div><br /><div></div><br /><div></div>Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15744237717440758988noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4579111613978814570.post-79080595175516390902010-09-14T21:03:00.000-07:002010-09-14T21:15:44.621-07:00Sticker StinkerOne day at work, my upper arm had been itching all day long. Finally at around 4pm that afternoon I discovered why. <div><div><div></div><br /><div>A sticker. A smiley face sticker.<br /></div><div>I had worn this sticker on my arm all day. To 3 meetings. To lunch. All day long.<br /></div><div>It was similar to these that I found on the kitchen table. </div><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516988054877104402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLfIsvOKO1nGUxoLcJRh7lOyhuNgvbKwjVUWnrxHzbe1OgFl8wZQ34pQTZ_xhnhN6TlZJJgdLz6AXpiVVDZB3AZzHOrFQFZKIh9_7ipiIWOo-1LPcZuGWQbAN8j2zTFDGQuO6hE2kuOzac/s400/DSC_0295.JPG" border="0" /> <div></div><br /><div>I wonder who is responsible? </div><div> </div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516988072231978626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimulOPTNyrhyphenhyphenTuguoK5OpdS-Fr6LhUgSOilxT1RvYZgfhePHXC8WYltUKaA-4tIf-DX25w4oxOHAsuvKAri1gUbkL9XbWn846UaesMR2j77kQw94slJ_KBPF3mf2uZihPs3AYzPnp_ryzf/s400/DSC_0306.JPG" border="0" /> <div></div><div>Yeah, I wonder.</div><br /><div></div><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516988063781628034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZZbTfpA7Ep_Stex3sJgJ5qQ4xO6SmDVO8-UmUk4cMXjoPZlaFfP-M3WEG4egVdN1uEVogAHhqO2Dw7CPEg8-lZS3Re0pznEMHaLGX192hV_5r2_JFQm6doTqgGC-m-OUvj8rB6kKMuqHo/s400/DSC_0305.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div>Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15744237717440758988noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4579111613978814570.post-80135914445796453162010-09-14T20:39:00.000-07:002010-09-14T21:00:35.756-07:00Henry's First Hair CutI couldn't stand it anymore. Henry had these long pieces of baby hair that didn't fall out from birth. And they had gotten LONG. Like in his face long. And they got all greasy. And when the wind would catch them, my Angel looked like a little old man losing his comb over. <div><div><div><div><div><div><br /><br /><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516983163082963346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYiwHg0JSpI8lQX_8ebSuFCcePVeWAfArdnB14eUWo3KvNyB1zJg3ddrr_W0Moc0J-JZJ5O1jKu_PS2FwyMUAs8jqY8czqQyLUcxjNtN5y11oTU_wl3Ib1wpqPwoapfU-WhguaHBRrhOKG/s400/CSC_0298.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516983153798921826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZCjS2F9CKuJuMP_jleD5MoeWQaextH-c0oh_dl46Vlx6k6zgH_daJ9wmB3HIJSlz8vqitAWkP0x2DJ0KVSl5qh56vmJNpY7RDlDelUp7wqKY01aDgEShVqL-B7RKB9ZCQmgKHEDPVmYPw/s400/CSC_0297.JPG" border="0" /><br />Out of control!!<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516984425789274258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgGDoArSOGxikrfXZ_BlVLq_8Tj2RBuPwiAGSle6PkuGZCFkKG2gJm3jOy80VKSCJqx66O_VHSmPtNKILax02b2Fj9yJwR-dHuIJ_kMavT0Uch3QOFY0NVm5WMscbRCX2FA7nGawtr5oyB/s400/DSC_0057.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br /><div>So, I cut my 5 month old's hair. </div><br /><br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516983165922328370" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7ImteYS7R0z-nidjnBm6feTr2FJSWpPwh1qtx7daAtQo4LYOHYo-shGBRziAIRA4IsicTpUIpmisM1Jze3ZLNnJTw4b6Vzv5EystQtFZIPlZFYtnPTwVQ6XGUzg_jCjsEL0mvIiwROvxx/s400/DSC_0296.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div></div><div>I think I did a pretty good job. </div><br /><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516983193165030002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhimCjiZp-YtbgwHATEOc7S3Q3lY_CFQ25q3SQMD37-msRmEY7SkfNUbHU7nIrmldyMZzv1bEE690nGL_iSZes2IK-tP3tvHhyphenhyphen6lemoqd6iBlWnkT4aASoXxB87w3hbgn-VVRw2Cq4vYMNZ/s400/DSC_0294.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div>The long pieces were darker than the new hair growing underneath so he looks like he got a cut and color! </div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div>Henry is still adjusting to it. </div><br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div></div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516984431546799442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgERiq5ssztF6HB_L4MywksUHmI4EO9WwGEHv1rI9tspm3K3FLV5jYz1Ph8hmx9Qyq8k5r4sG8gvJtilrlkXKzTGAoXpkdVMXVMOVHKpE4aIwTbDLisn24ATsps3XmgdBnMgPLKuawPezSn/s400/DSC_0343.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15744237717440758988noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4579111613978814570.post-7036485735944353682010-09-12T20:12:00.000-07:002010-09-14T20:39:26.497-07:00Are you ready for some football?<div align="left"><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">Can you feel it in the air? That hint of cool weather? The sky is a darker blue. The leaves are starting to change. Most people get really excited about fall. While I enjoy fall, I'm a summer girl. I'm perfectly fine with it being 100 million degrees year round. I even like the humidity. What's even sadder for me, is knowing that I'm going to have to pack up the closets of sweet sundresses and seersucker john-johns to never be seen on my babies again. Cold weather means covered legs with jeans and tights. I would much prefer naked piggies and sun kissed little scraped up knees. </span></div><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"><div align="left"> </div></span><div align="left"><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">Oh well. </span></div><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"><div align="left"> </div></span><div align="left"><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">I guess I should just enjoy it. </span></div><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"><div align="left"> </div></span><div align="left"><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">Football season is fun. And I do get to dress up the kids for that right? </span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"> </div></span><div align="left"><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">Here's my little cheerleader. And no, I did not teach her how to stand like this. I was a basketball player remember? This was my mother's fault. </span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"> </div></span><div align="left"><span style="font-family:lucida grande;">But cute. </span></div><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"><div align="center"><br /></div></span><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516233347424305378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrR9wrUL-zXS6EolW8AMT4X2J6DtQR2CURs_2bzUesD-s_oE-28S6BekTQearhommapHJWn8ktg0u76DYEw_iF2B-mZlmt_B6g9xmastdLWujy1GNrMmBE9-lo4sGH46iIiQzJL9mLmpzn/s400/DSC_0795.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516233339111347154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9pQDckYp3hm1PPVFTbBeaqrHSc0TaK0PZ0LZx_zNALbkiWYFENo3gddHM4H-qAWk02sI_4UBwhh4LO0cOaqm-YJ76P_rF_bpMqykhpInf-MSUOIcddpBJQiN9ypLBmRI4J53Lz2lqvAkp/s400/CSC_0770.JPG" border="0" /> <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516978656496512626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv0O45JqGbA_DA47hQ42M9pYy45741GTTWBHCdoWui9ddYWxkvs96Xp04WH0BJFz78PbWoMA0aK3psZO6oU4ch-7hFLX5PD_GIowdkvA2yBQOqxsKtr-1L31QXSnKDAfXBxtCPd9OqrWs9/s400/DSC_0784.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516978641739691746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhevD-fNgF0flT7STt47x17pfKuHa6kUm3u6AS29jN0-xtJzBxd6iZ-pLtV6KVencQZ2LXTy6GWFxMWaX8TBQ9jNUR0iPbei6FHbL3UF06iy-9O9813Vj4M1EEvSLHYVvdyt8xqRp0TKwk4/s400/DSC_0771_edited-1.JPG" border="0" /> <p align="center"><br /><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"><strong>GO DAWGS!!</strong></span> <br /></span><br /></p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5516978667593544162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6qnohuIJPJH8ewlm7IUFK2uC2FtUzj9118O4U6M3mdZO1PUe3fz6d-sSvHDevuWpEosT0Qn1X8PgI0-gPQYbpQYVhxhFcpdgpUmY2R10piZmRgz_AYvAUBi6dIyEQY2qhGupC7LevqCOT/s400/DSC_0799.JPG" border="0" />Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15744237717440758988noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4579111613978814570.post-5573130644322037892010-09-05T21:58:00.000-07:002010-09-05T22:24:54.408-07:00TeethAt 5 months, by baby boy got his first and second beautiful little teeth. I found this out when he bit me. And I'm not talking about my finger. . .<br /><div><div>They're so cute though. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513663574867770002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqld21syPR0NzzYE4XzrONuKfq9q_nZrS_SmrWW6uL31m7gnFah2h4JQfYeb-ijMOI_U63aT7oh2poagoFAvJ8oBdkMBj0R9iC39YiODp7cX1Akk218dRfvMFHasWKG16kjI2wO0_YFi15/s320/CSC_0235.JPG" border="0" /></div><br /><div>The poor guy also got his first two. . . ear infections. One in each ear. </div><br /><div>Rhiannon NEVER had an ear infection so this is new for us. And the only reason I took Henry in to see the ped is because he was pulling on his ear while he ate his cereal. He never had a fever. Never cried. Never woke up at night. Never stopped nursing. What a trooper. Is this the same fussy baby I brought home 6 months ago? </div><br /><div>We also found out from the doc that his top two teeth are coming in now. </div><br /><div>That explains the biting again. </div><br /><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513666981118928898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 266px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS9qDAsHAst3GSazHunX1LW4wha5bQSsrwwENy3wND2xc8eTY8lnpF3d-BWXhm2JAUdmEzuhCXsZgZpQHgaMVXT5mDgvgPn7aAe8zzS4Z9UbwRt1ssub5Hl9yrVUKELb5qzYZW1xOwDPA8/s400/DSC_0568_edited-1.JPG" border="0" /><br /></div><br /><div></div></div>Heatherhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15744237717440758988noreply@blogger.com3