<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025</id><updated>2011-04-21T18:30:55.952-07:00</updated><title type='text'>What's a Blog?</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>108</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-296607787171570593</id><published>2009-02-17T08:24:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-17T08:55:33.286-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Goodbye Abbie</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/SZrr_I4YMeI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/wW6a-YL3itQ/s1600-h/IMG_3809.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/SZrr_I4YMeI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/wW6a-YL3itQ/s320/IMG_3809.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303810981130416610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day has finally come. Abbie is gone. She went to retire on a farm. No really, She went to live with my in-laws out on a farm near McMinnville! She will have 2 dachsunds, 1 cat, 2 horses &amp; 31 chickens to play with. She will have acres of land to get into trouble on and two loving people to take care of her. She's probably the happiest she's ever been. And I haven't swept the floor since she left and it's still clean. I'm pretty happy too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-296607787171570593?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/296607787171570593/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=296607787171570593' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/296607787171570593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/296607787171570593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2009/02/goodbye-abbie.html' title='Goodbye Abbie'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/SZrr_I4YMeI/AAAAAAAAAUQ/wW6a-YL3itQ/s72-c/IMG_3809.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-7721369086578607883</id><published>2009-02-05T15:49:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-05T15:55:05.139-08:00</updated><title type='text'>La De Freakin' Da</title><content type='html'>I complain every single day about how Kate won't sleep. She really is a vampire, we all know this. She sleeps for a few hours at a time, totalling about 10 hours at night. Cat naps in the car or while nursing during the day, total about 1-2 hours, max. (ususally much less). Babies are supposed to sleep ALL THE FREAKING TIME. She doesn't, so I complain. &lt;br /&gt;Wellll...today she has been asleep for 2 1/2 hours and I'm going nuts! I don't even know what to do with myself! I'm so used to having her around that I don't even know how to be alone and quiet! Geez, kids have ruined me!&lt;br /&gt;I have checked my email and facebook, read a few chapters out of Pride &amp; Prejudice, cleaned my bathroom, tried to take a nap, peed twice, stared out the window &amp; put my shoes on. Now I'm sitting in the living room writing this incredibly pointless blog, waiting for the little angel to start screaming. What the heck is wrong with me?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-7721369086578607883?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/7721369086578607883/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=7721369086578607883' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/7721369086578607883'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/7721369086578607883'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2009/02/la-de-freakin-da.html' title='La De Freakin&apos; Da'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-7956908810051857514</id><published>2009-01-26T08:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-26T08:23:36.055-08:00</updated><title type='text'>25 Things</title><content type='html'>This was from Facebook, but I thought I'd post it here too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. I've been married to my best friend for 9 1/2 years. &lt;br /&gt;2. I love my car, but hate that it has leather seats.&lt;br /&gt;3. I have an obsession with cookies.&lt;br /&gt;4. I'm addicted to coffee. If I don't have some by about 11am, I have terrible headaches.&lt;br /&gt;5. I despise "chick flicks".&lt;br /&gt;6. I look forward to Halloween all year and spend an insane amount of time fretting over my costume.&lt;br /&gt;7. I've never seen any of the Back to the Future movies.&lt;br /&gt;8. I would love to own a cafe or restaurant some day.&lt;br /&gt;9. I love baking, but don't really like cooking. Probably because I'm not very good at it.&lt;br /&gt;10. I can't wait until my dog is gone and feel really guilty about it.&lt;br /&gt;11. Laundry is strangely satisfying to me, so it's always clean, but I can never seem to get it put away.&lt;br /&gt;12. My favorite cocktail is a toss up between a vodka tonic with a twist of lime and a dirty vodka martini.&lt;br /&gt;13. I am still very close with my best friends from high school (and jr high) but wish I saw them more.&lt;br /&gt;14. I am basically computer illiterate, but am married to a computer genius.&lt;br /&gt;15. I have the wierdest dreams of anyone I know.&lt;br /&gt;16. My kids are some of the funniest people I know, even though they drive me nuts most of the time.&lt;br /&gt;17. I hate carpet.&lt;br /&gt;18. I look forward to getting the mail even if I am not expecting anything.&lt;br /&gt;19. I am horrible at video games.&lt;br /&gt;20. I kick butt at word games. &lt;br /&gt;21. I haven't had a paying job in about 4 years.&lt;br /&gt;22. I refuse to be politically correct.&lt;br /&gt;23. I love shopping, but not for myself. &lt;br /&gt;24. My family is really cool. &lt;br /&gt;25. I love the smell of bleach.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-7956908810051857514?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/7956908810051857514/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=7956908810051857514' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/7956908810051857514'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/7956908810051857514'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2009/01/25-things.html' title='25 Things'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-4188396512809340915</id><published>2009-01-12T20:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-12T21:35:44.973-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Grab some coffee and catch up!</title><content type='html'>I know, I know, I'm not the best at keeping up on this blog. Facebook is pretty much all consuming for me, so whenever I get online intending to blog, I end up on FB screwing around and wasting time. I have all but forgotten about Myspace now though, so at least I only have one huge time waster.&lt;br /&gt;So let's see, I last left you with the pending birthday party for Lauren. Yeah, that was over 2 months ago, so I'll do a quick recap of November/December/January.&lt;br /&gt;The birthday party was absolute mayhem, but pretty fun actually. There ended up being almost as many adults as kids, so we had our own party upstairs while the little Hannah Montana wannabees hung out downstairs. They were all, for the most part, very polite and got along with eachother. The only problem was the noise level. Whew, girls are LOUD.&lt;br /&gt;Thanksgiving was great, as usual. We spent it at the Chilcotts and had delicious food and good company. We got to see Josh's grandma and pseudo grampa, who we see about every 6 months to a year even though they only live in North Plains.&lt;br /&gt;December came and brought my new favorite day of the year. That's right folks, SantaCon. If you don't know what Santa Con is, here's a brief summary: drunk Portlanders roaming the streets and bars dressed as Santa. There were the occasional reindeer, elves and other Christmas related outfits, but for the most part, it was a sea of red and white. So Much Fun. We plan to take part every year until we die. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/SWwl3IzhdEI/AAAAAAAAATo/6poarEq0BBU/s1600-h/n602437334_1289291_6480.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/SWwl3IzhdEI/AAAAAAAAATo/6poarEq0BBU/s320/n602437334_1289291_6480.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290645291440108610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also in December was my poor baby boy's birthday. We haven't had a party yet, due to a very full calendar and inclement weather. Oh yeah! Inclement weather! Or as the News Stations called it, "Arctic Blast 2008". It was actually crazy, we had over a foot of snow...in Hillsboro! This is completely unheard of. The most I've ever seen here is about 3 inches. School was shut down for a whole week, inconveniently the last week of school before Christmas break. So in all, they were home for 3 weeks. I was really glad to see that come to an end. I love them dearly, but 3 kids in a house this size for 3 weeks with nowhere to go...not so much. I couldn't even get my car out of the driveway without a lot of shoveling. You see, the kids shoveled the driveway for Josh's car to park, but didn't think about where they were putting the snow. It all ended up directly behind my car. Then the freezing rain came and made a shell of ice all around it. Awesome. We had a lot of fun with the snow though and we got to experience a white Christmas, which was pretty neat.&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of Christmas, it was great. In years past, we have donated gifts to the Childrens' Relief Nursery in North Portland. It has always proven to make us stop and think about what's really important. This year topped it by a landslide. We were able to donate gifts to someone in our own family who was in serious need. It's such a good feeling to be able to help.&lt;br /&gt;We also did a homemade Christmas gift exchange between the Mac side of the family. Each person drew two names and had to make a gift for those two people. You then got two gifts in return from two different people. It turned out to be the most meaningful gifts I've ever seen under the tree. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/SWwmHfZbeEI/AAAAAAAAATw/I2cM82_L9V4/s1600-h/n1189821927_274068_255.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/SWwmHfZbeEI/AAAAAAAAATw/I2cM82_L9V4/s320/n1189821927_274068_255.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290645572382586946" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our most awesome gift though, was from our own kids. A few days before Christmas, Hayden was standing in front of the tree marveling at the amount of gifts already there. He said, "Mom? Where is Santa going to fit his gifts? There are so many there already!" I said, "He'll find a place for them, don't worry." A few minutes later, the kids were talking amongst themselves. They came to me and said that they don't need any more gifts than what they already have under the tree and that they wanted to write a letter to Santa to ask him to give their presents to some kids that needed them instead. I almost cried I was so proud of them. So they wrote the letter, and put it out with the cookies and milk on Christmas Eve. In the morning, they found a letter from Santa, thanking them for being such amazing kids. Along with the letter, Santa left two jingle bells from his sleigh. Pretty cool, huh?&lt;br /&gt;New Years was spent at home this year. It was one of, if not the best New Years we've had. My parents, Haley, Scott and Amy came over. We ate, drank and played Apples to Apples. It was really refreshing to just hang out and not have to deal with babysitting, dressing up, driving home, hangovers, etc. At midnight, we all did the countdown in the living room and then for some strange reason thought it would be a good idea to run around the block. Like I said, we were drinking. The dog came with us too. She thought it was the best night of her life. Running around in the rain at night! Sweet!&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/SWwlpJX-HQI/AAAAAAAAATg/T-NjRRNqtWw/s1600-h/n583418518_1273360_563.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/SWwlpJX-HQI/AAAAAAAAATg/T-NjRRNqtWw/s320/n583418518_1273360_563.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290645051074813186" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Saturday, we went to see Revolver, a Beatles tribute band at the Venetian Theater in Hillsboro. The first couple of songs had us nervous. The sound system was messing up and the guys who were on stage were just not the Beatles. But...a few songs in, and a couple glasses of wine, we were at a BEATLES show!! It was so much fun! A few of us ended up dancing up front like crazy groupies. I kept thinking it would have been hilarious to have brought an extra bra or panties to fling at the stage. It would have made me laugh anyway. &lt;br /&gt;So there you have it, we're up to speed. I promise to try to be more frequent in updating.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-4188396512809340915?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/4188396512809340915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=4188396512809340915' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/4188396512809340915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/4188396512809340915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2009/01/grab-some-coffee-and-catch-up.html' title='Grab some coffee and catch up!'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/SWwl3IzhdEI/AAAAAAAAATo/6poarEq0BBU/s72-c/n602437334_1289291_6480.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-2802915480547494284</id><published>2008-11-10T15:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-10T16:05:08.057-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's not even my party and I'll cry if I want to.</title><content type='html'>Lauren is turning 8 on Friday. I'm in denial. I think I'm just going to start telling people she's turning 6. You think that might work? Gramma Lynn used to push on our heads, pretending to squish us and tell us we were growing up too fast. I thought she was just being silly, but I get it now. We really were growing up too fast. I know because I'm 28 now and it was just yesterday that she was pushing on my head. &lt;br /&gt;So for the big 8th (or 6th) birthday bash, I'm going to throw a slumber party. I know I'm crazy. You don't have to tell me. I'm purposely going to enclose myself in a house with 8 little girls for the night. Luckily, I'll have backup. &lt;br /&gt;I'm new at this though and was wondering if anyone has any suggestions for party activities/foods/etc. Let me know.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-2802915480547494284?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/2802915480547494284/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=2802915480547494284' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/2802915480547494284'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/2802915480547494284'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2008/11/its-not-even-my-party-and-ill-cry-if-i.html' title='It&apos;s not even my party and I&apos;ll cry if I want to.'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-6874507710880690323</id><published>2008-10-16T08:39:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-10-16T09:02:22.106-07:00</updated><title type='text'>October Update</title><content type='html'>October is already half over? NO! It can't be so! This is my favorite month because it kicks off the best part of the year. Halloween, Thanksgiving and Christmas. The weather is perfect too. Not too cold or rainy and the colors are amazing. I need to get out with my kids and the camera and capture some of it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took the kids to the pumpkin patch yesterday. Heidi &amp; Lili went with us &amp; a good time was had by all. We got our pumpkins, Lauren chose a white one. Hmmm, not sure how I feel about that. Kate slept through most of our trip, but inevitably woke up from being "dragged" in her stroller through the gravel. As Heidi pointed out, the wheels weren't so much going over the rocks, but through them. Without rolling. No good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lauren and Hayden have their parent/teacher conferences today at school. It is such a waste of time. I wish I could say that they were helpful, but we're in our 3rd year at elementary school now and so far they have always been an incovenience and a way to send home a TON of papers and artwork.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After conferences, we have swimming lessons. They are in their 2nd round of classes now (Dolphin 2) and doing very well. They can actually stay afloat for awhile! Even if we don't end up with a Michael Phelps in our family, I'm really glad that Lauren is comfortable with the pool now. She used to only get the ends of her hair wet and stay on the side. Now she jumps in like an animal. So different growing up in the NW compared to southern California. I pretty much had gills.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Josh took Lauren to a play called "Gossamer" last night. They said it was fun and the cast did a great job. The story was kind of heavy for Lauren though. It seems like she got it, but Josh said there were a lot of questions afterward on the MAX. They came walking in at 9:50pm with a pizza and breadsticks. Good thing Lauren's a party animal.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-6874507710880690323?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/6874507710880690323/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=6874507710880690323' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/6874507710880690323'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/6874507710880690323'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2008/10/october-update.html' title='October Update'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-1065862510257714386</id><published>2008-09-24T19:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-24T19:20:06.614-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Apple Madness</title><content type='html'>Emily and I went to an apple orchard today. I am going to make myself sick on apple pie. That is a promise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/SNr1L9WDIhI/AAAAAAAAAOY/tbVo8bp9U5A/s1600-h/howdou.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/SNr1L9WDIhI/AAAAAAAAAOY/tbVo8bp9U5A/s320/howdou.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249777901448143378" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This place was awesome, even had some sheep and piggies. I happened to catch on video two of the funniest things Molly has ever said. We were looking at a horse, who was eating weeds on the ground. Just as I started filming, she said, "He's eating dirrrrrt. Ick." I know it doesn't really sound funny, but try to hear it in Molly's voice. Then a few minutes later we were looking at the pigs, who were making snorting sounds. Just as I resume filming she said, "I think the pigs are farrrting." &lt;br /&gt;I said, "I think they're just snorting".&lt;br /&gt;She said, "They are growling like the hippopotomuses?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lauren just asked me about Santa again. Every time I'm about ready to just tell her the truth, she freaks out and starts yelling, "No, don't tell me! I don't want to know yet!" What a freak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been having a kind of nostalgic day. I haven't stopped thinking about what was going on a year ago. I had Kate. But it was more than that. I had her in my shower. God, I can't believe she's already a year old. :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/SNr0kckPprI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/vSUTutSB6HY/s1600-h/kateinchair.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/SNr0kckPprI/AAAAAAAAAOQ/vSUTutSB6HY/s320/kateinchair.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5249777222634415794" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On that note, I'm going to drink a bottle of wine and make a pie.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-1065862510257714386?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/1065862510257714386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=1065862510257714386' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/1065862510257714386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/1065862510257714386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2008/09/apple-madness.html' title='Apple Madness'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/SNr1L9WDIhI/AAAAAAAAAOY/tbVo8bp9U5A/s72-c/howdou.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-1040419185844217878</id><published>2008-09-20T08:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-20T08:57:04.091-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Paaaahtaaay!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/SNUdO_o8bwI/AAAAAAAAAOI/mJshvKNTlOQ/s1600-h/CIMG0973.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/SNUdO_o8bwI/AAAAAAAAAOI/mJshvKNTlOQ/s320/CIMG0973.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5248133084208721666" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it's official. We've got a place to hold the 5th Annual Pumpkin Ball. Since it's a public blog, I won't be listing times and places here, but lemme know if you're interested in attending. It will be on Oct. 24th. We (Amy and I) are working on an evite, so send email addresses this way for friends you would like invited.&lt;br /&gt;Now I have to find a costume. This is the harsh reality of the FIFTH year of dressing up in increasingly cool costumes. I'm completely out of ideas. Anyone have any for me? Or Josh while we're at it?&lt;br /&gt;Today is Kate's first birthday party. I'm having a nervous breakdown. She can't be one already. She just can't. After Wednesday (her real b-day) I will never again have a baby. It makes me unbelievably sad. I'm not saying I want more, don't worry. I just want this to last a little longer... Maybe that's why I'm still nursing her.&lt;br /&gt;I have to admit, I'm really looking forward to seeing Kate shove cake in her face tonight though.&lt;br /&gt;Well, I better get this house clean (again) and then get the hell out while we wait for the party. You can't actually KEEP a house clean with 3 kids. It's literally impossible. They destroy faster than I can clean.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-1040419185844217878?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/1040419185844217878/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=1040419185844217878' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/1040419185844217878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/1040419185844217878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2008/09/paaaahtaaay.html' title='Paaaahtaaay!'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/SNUdO_o8bwI/AAAAAAAAAOI/mJshvKNTlOQ/s72-c/CIMG0973.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-3298622413022374832</id><published>2008-09-10T16:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-10T17:11:14.207-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Newsflash!!!</title><content type='html'>I suppose it's time for an update. I always wait too long to blog and then feel like I have nothing really important to say. Well here goes:&lt;br /&gt;School is back in session, thank God. I was seriously looking into running away. When you're young, Summer isn't long enough. Trust me, when you're the mom of 3 kids, Summer is WAY too long. I enjoy my kids, but not 24/7. And I could say the same for their feelings for me.&lt;br /&gt;I got a tattoo!! Josh gave me the number of a tattoo artist and permission to spend the money to get what I wanted. I worked with the artist to design a gaggle of geese for my back. This is of course to represent my three geese(Lauren, Hayden and Kate). It turned out awesome and I'm definitely addicted to ink.&lt;br /&gt;Kate is going to be 1 in two weeks and I'm getting kind of sad. I'm happy that she's getting a little more independent, but I'm bumming that I will never have another baby living in my house again. It all just happens too fast.&lt;br /&gt;Both mine and Josh's 10 year reunions are coming up. Josh has decided not to go to his, much to my dismay. He doesn't think anyone worth seeing will be there, so I have to trust him on this. He is all for crashing the after party, wherever that might be though, so maybe we'll do that. I'm definitely going to mine. Even if none of my friends go, (they better) I think it will be kind of fun. I never want to regret not doing something like this. I didn't go to prom and I really regret that. I know, not the same, but still...&lt;br /&gt;Time to make dinner, better figure that out. I'll try to post some tat pics soon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-3298622413022374832?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/3298622413022374832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=3298622413022374832' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/3298622413022374832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/3298622413022374832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2008/09/newsflash.html' title='Newsflash!!!'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-3490064284626086856</id><published>2008-08-08T10:51:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-08T11:08:18.952-07:00</updated><title type='text'>VBS</title><content type='html'>Or as I like to call it, "free babysitting". We've been lucky enough to be a part of VBS for our old church for a few years now, without ever having to actually go to church there! It's fabulous! The kids get free dinner and 2 hours of sports while I go to dinner with the other moms and dads. This week I went to Bento with Josh on Monday, Red Robin with Allison and Emily on Tuesday, Red Robin again with Josh and Rob on Wednesday and The Venetian with Allison, Sarah and Haley last night. Two of these nights included cocktails. This is the way it's supposed to be, I'm telling you. Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. Tonight is the last night of VBS for the year. Thanks to all the helpers and organizers! I had a great time! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/SJyLTGwFbUI/AAAAAAAAAN4/kN4MDrZkLgE/s1600-h/cocktail.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/SJyLTGwFbUI/AAAAAAAAAN4/kN4MDrZkLgE/s320/cocktail.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232210027443744066" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note, I'm freaking out a little bit right now. I am in Kari's wedding tonight, which will be fantastic no doubt. But orchestrating the kids/babysitting/getting ready, etc without Josh is terrifying. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/SJyLd2Hf33I/AAAAAAAAAOA/axKtb4ANXtM/s1600-h/slip.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/SJyLd2Hf33I/AAAAAAAAAOA/axKtb4ANXtM/s320/slip.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232210211957104498" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday is coming soon too. (tomorrow to be exact) We are going to a grown up Slip n Slide party. I'm going to be seen in a swim suit? I think not...at least not without an almost lethal dose of alcohol.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-3490064284626086856?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/3490064284626086856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=3490064284626086856' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/3490064284626086856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/3490064284626086856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2008/08/blog-post.html' title='VBS'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/SJyLTGwFbUI/AAAAAAAAAN4/kN4MDrZkLgE/s72-c/cocktail.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-2647803894115274234</id><published>2008-07-27T23:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:31.754-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dancing Fools</title><content type='html'>I'm home tonight with the kiddos while Josh takes in a little culture. By "culture", I mean "Chromeo". &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EMz0mkfPCjY"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EMz0mkfPCjY&lt;/a&gt;. Besides the fact that they are extremely catchy, I like them because Kate loves them. She can't help herself when she hears her favorite song, "Fancy Footwork". She starts twisting her wrists and ankles and rocking her little body to the music.&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of dancing...last night was a blast. Kari called me up at about 5pm and asked me to come out with her and her fiance. I quickly pumped a bottle for Kate, made and ate some dinner and headed out. Unfortunately, Kate wasn't happy about me leaving so she gave Josh crap for 2 hours and then finally fell asleep. Anyway, I thought it would be a good idea to get to know Matt (the fiance) before I'm a bridesmaid in their wedding in less than two weeks. &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/SI1yWgTjCwI/AAAAAAAAANg/827Maivf0PU/s1600-h/probable+cause.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/SI1yWgTjCwI/AAAAAAAAANg/827Maivf0PU/s320/probable+cause.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227960473401625346" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I met them at Coyote's Grill, which is surprisingly a happening place at night. We sat outside on the patio and drank faaaaaaaaaar too much beer. They had a band playing so we took advantage of the dance floor. Kari has an amazing way of luring complete strangers to dance. She was pulling old men and polo shirt clad intel workers out to dance. Like I said, amazing. I must say though that the highlight of the night was when Kari finally got the band to play "Crazy Bitch" for her. The lyrics are deep, so bear with me here..."You're a crazy bitch but you fuck so good I'm on top of it." I know, deep. But what was funny about this is that I was dancing with my sister to that song. Huh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-2647803894115274234?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/2647803894115274234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=2647803894115274234' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/2647803894115274234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/2647803894115274234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2008/07/dancing-fools.html' title='Dancing Fools'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/SI1yWgTjCwI/AAAAAAAAANg/827Maivf0PU/s72-c/probable+cause.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-9200987035445855807</id><published>2008-07-19T11:51:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:33.163-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Summer Update</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/SII9vN_xO5I/AAAAAAAAANI/UNTboV_gTuE/s1600-h/CIMG0197.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/SII9vN_xO5I/AAAAAAAAANI/UNTboV_gTuE/s320/CIMG0197.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224806399123471250" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hayden, you're so street.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/SII9vX6EOFI/AAAAAAAAANQ/GoMGoQS0Izg/s1600-h/CIMG0214.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/SII9vX6EOFI/AAAAAAAAANQ/GoMGoQS0Izg/s320/CIMG0214.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224806401783904338" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My girls, being beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/SII9v9t_BpI/AAAAAAAAANY/9npc7xMUrFs/s1600-h/CIMG0436.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/SII9v9t_BpI/AAAAAAAAANY/9npc7xMUrFs/s320/CIMG0436.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224806411933779602" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Josh with Kate in Sunriver.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/SII87aHfKeI/AAAAAAAAANA/nIEBeNmLkEE/s1600-h/CIMG0114.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/SII87aHfKeI/AAAAAAAAANA/nIEBeNmLkEE/s320/CIMG0114.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5224805509023869410" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me and Kate on our little impromptu beach day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a serious blog slacker these days. I guess it's probably because I recently discovered Facebook. Anytime I go to the laptop to do anything, I end up screwing around for 30 minutes or more on facebook. I occasionally will forget what I originally came to the laptop for and log out without doing it. Retarded, I know.&lt;br /&gt;So here I am, blogging. I guess a good place to start is to fill you all in on our adventures so far this summer. &lt;br /&gt;We spent a week in Sunriver with my family. Parents, grandpa, Connie, sisters, brother, brother in law, Scott and a plethora of kids. We rode bikes everywhere, played in the pools, guys went golfing, ate insane amounts of food and dessert, drank quite a bit, etc. It was great but we missed Ashley lots this year. Just wasn't the same without you!&lt;br /&gt;When we got home from Sunriver, first order of business was to get bikes so we could continue riding. Josh got a kick ass bike from Portland Citybikes. It's a KHS something or other. I got a sweet Giant bike with a little wooden bike rack on the back. The kids got Schwinns and Kate got the Burley trailer. All in all, we spent a little dough, but it's been worth it. We've ridden downtown Hillsboro a couple times, to my parents' house and just around the neighborhood. We recently took all the bikes out to Sauvie Island, hoping to find the bike trail that I found online. We found it, but it was a country road with nowhere to ride safely, so we left. On a whim, we stopped at the Hillsboro Main Library on our way back into town and rode all over the place there. We went to New Seasons and got ice cream bars and had a snack outside. Fun was had by all.&lt;br /&gt;We had a great 4th of July this year too. The day started out watching the parade downtown. Thanks dad for getting up at the butt crack of dawn again to stake our spots! Later that day, we went to a barbecue down the street with our awesome neighbors. We ended the day at the Chilcotts, watching the Oak Hills fireworks and then blowing stuff up in the street. Nothing says, "Happy Birthday America" like some good illegal fireworks.&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of which, I had an awesome birthday. I never really make a big deal out of my birthday, so it's always a surprise when other people do. Josh tracked down the tattoo artist who did Kara's tattoo and got me all the contact info. He wrote in my card that I can go get mine done when I'm ready. I have a consultation with her next Thursday. I'm really excited.&lt;br /&gt;Coming up, we have my cousin's wedding in California, Kari's wedding (I'm a bridesmaid), camping in Washington and a smattering of little stuff in between. I love summer!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-9200987035445855807?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/9200987035445855807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=9200987035445855807' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/9200987035445855807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/9200987035445855807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2008/07/summer-update.html' title='Summer Update'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/SII9vN_xO5I/AAAAAAAAANI/UNTboV_gTuE/s72-c/CIMG0197.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-8576715344782557959</id><published>2008-06-17T11:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:33.359-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Lists</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/SFf_SaMn2SI/AAAAAAAAAM4/v5ENxsiCuIU/s1600-h/IMG_5069.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/SFf_SaMn2SI/AAAAAAAAAM4/v5ENxsiCuIU/s320/IMG_5069.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5212915785439631650" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm sitting here, yet again. I'm procrastinating. It's actually something I should compete in, I'd win.&lt;br /&gt;My theory is that if I write it all down, I'll get some sort of satisfaction in crossing it off my list. It usually works, at least to some extent.&lt;br /&gt;1. Get house ready for Amy to possibly stay in it while she dog-sits.&lt;br /&gt;2. Give said beast a bath.&lt;br /&gt;3. Do all the laundry that has been piling up for almost a week.&lt;br /&gt;4. Pack the entire house for Sunriver trip.&lt;br /&gt;5. Hire maid.&lt;br /&gt;6. Hire nanny.&lt;br /&gt;7. Drink bottle of wine.&lt;br /&gt;What do you think?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-8576715344782557959?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/8576715344782557959/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=8576715344782557959' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/8576715344782557959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/8576715344782557959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2008/06/lists.html' title='Lists'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/SFf_SaMn2SI/AAAAAAAAAM4/v5ENxsiCuIU/s72-c/IMG_5069.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-4845012343684822461</id><published>2008-06-03T17:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T18:11:41.831-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Deep Thoughts-By, Sarah</title><content type='html'>I've been thinking about something for the last couple of days. I suppose here's a good place to "jot" it down. &lt;br /&gt;I have a facebook account, and on it I have an application called "My Cities" or something. It's a map with little virtual pins to show the places I've been. I have always known that I haven't really gone anywhere, so it came as no surprise to me to see how little of the map I covered. It got me feeling a little bit sad though. I have never been to Canada, let alone overseas anywhere. (Unless you count Hawaii, which you don't.) I always have said, "when my kids are older, I'll travel" but deep down, I always wondered if I really would. It's something I want to do, but will it be a priority? Maybe, maybe not. What finally dawned on me though is that what was a priority to me was having a family. That was the first and most important piece of business I wanted to accomplish in my life. I did it already, so I am content. Most of my friends are on the opposite side of this so it seemed like I should be too, but the more thought I give it, the more I realize how I'm not missing anything, maybe they are. I mean no disrespect to those without chillin's, but I sometimes feel like I'm supposed to apologize for being a young mom of three. I freakin' chose this, I wasn't stuck with it like some disease. If I had wanted so desperately to backpack through Europe or whatever, I would have. Sure, my days are crazy sometimes. Sure, I want to crawl under a rock when I see that there are 50+ cheerios smashed into the living room rug and 6 pairs of shoes on the floor. But I have given birth in my shower, potty trained 2 kids, made a plethora of themed birthday cakes, driven to the emergency room for someone other than myself and celebrated almost 9 years of marriage to my best friend. When I think about it, I've done more and seen more than most people my age.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-4845012343684822461?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/4845012343684822461/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=4845012343684822461' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/4845012343684822461'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/4845012343684822461'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2008/06/deep-thoughts-by-sarah.html' title='Deep Thoughts-By, Sarah'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-7311069608961111237</id><published>2008-05-22T07:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:33.499-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Time Flies When You're Doing Nothing</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/SDWNaI22SqI/AAAAAAAAAMw/Tjh361aw7dg/s1600-h/gameover.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/SDWNaI22SqI/AAAAAAAAAMw/Tjh361aw7dg/s320/gameover.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5203220424690125474" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well well well... Where do I begin? It's been awhile since my last post. Here's a cheap way to fill y'all in.&lt;br /&gt;1. We are still planning to sell our house. We'll list it For Sale By Owner as soon as I can get my butt in gear enough to have it ready for such things.&lt;br /&gt;2. School is almost over. I'm looking forward to not having the days broken up by drop offs and pick ups, but dreading long days of kid noise.&lt;br /&gt;3. Speaking of kid noise, we got a Wii. The kids and Josh are slightly obsessed, especially Hayden. It's really fun though.&lt;br /&gt;4. My 10 year high school reunion is coming up in October. I have been thinking about it alot. I don't know why. I will definitely be going because it's at the Cornelius Pass Roadhouse for $25 a head. Nice deal!&lt;br /&gt;5. Kate is getting huge. She has two teeth and has started scooting across the floor if she has enough incentive. Like a shoe for example.&lt;br /&gt;6. We just had a great weekend. The boys (Josh, James, Jon and Dad) went to Spirit Mtn Casino to see Dana Carvey and to gamble. They spent the night and had a great time. In the morning, when they got home, us girls left for the night. We stayed at the Governor Hotel downtown, ate way too much delicious food and drank cosmos in the room. All in all, it was delightful. I'm really hoping we can make an annual thing of it.&lt;br /&gt;7. Lucas is home. Finally. He spent 13 months in Iraq and is home with his wife now. They live in Kansas, so we won't get to see much of them, but they were here this week and we got to hug them. &lt;br /&gt;8. Ron Paul got 15% of the Republican vote for PRESIDENT with absolutely no media coverage. Upsetting.&lt;br /&gt;9. There's more, but I haven't had my coffee yet and the kids need a ride to school.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-7311069608961111237?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/7311069608961111237/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=7311069608961111237' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/7311069608961111237'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/7311069608961111237'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2008/05/time-flies-when-youre-doing-nothing.html' title='Time Flies When You&apos;re Doing Nothing'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/SDWNaI22SqI/AAAAAAAAAMw/Tjh361aw7dg/s72-c/gameover.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-5142625090345513113</id><published>2008-04-09T15:51:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-09T16:00:12.503-07:00</updated><title type='text'>One of those moments...</title><content type='html'>So, if you need any verification as to whether or not this really happened, just ask Emily or any one of the patrons of the Hillsboro Joann's superstore.&lt;br /&gt;We were shopping for some scrapbooking supplies at Joann's with the three babies today. (Molly &amp; Charlotte in one cart &amp; Kate in the other) Kate was sitting up like a big kid in the front of the cart for her first time. She was loving life, all wrapped up in my sweatshirt so she wouldn't fall over.&lt;br /&gt;Emily and I were a little confused about what we needed to purchase for Tina's scrapbooking party on Friday. I had a list, but was still unsure. Emily suggested I call Tina. Good idea.&lt;br /&gt;Well...when I went to get my cell phone, I noticed the catastrophe. Kate had "squirted" poop out of her diaper. I say squirted, because it literally shot out of her diaper, only barely touching her jeans and landing IN the front pocket of my diaper bag. The pocket I keep my cell phone in. Yes, her poop was in my phone. When I saw what had happened, I said, "uh, Emily? Guess what...no nevermind, you have to come see this." She came over and we both just stared at it for a few seconds, letting it sink in (to our heads and the phone). We then proceeded to clean Kate, the cart, my phone and our hands with about 20 wipes. If I'd had a camera, I promise I would have taken a picture.&lt;br /&gt;Guess it's time to get a new phone!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-5142625090345513113?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/5142625090345513113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=5142625090345513113' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/5142625090345513113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/5142625090345513113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2008/04/one-of-those-moments.html' title='One of those moments...'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-5398691182844306467</id><published>2008-04-01T19:26:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-01T19:26:34.845-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Freaking Hilarious.</title><content type='html'>http://improveverywhere.com/2008/03/09/food-court-musical/&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-5398691182844306467?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/5398691182844306467/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=5398691182844306467' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/5398691182844306467'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/5398691182844306467'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2008/04/freaking-hilarious.html' title='Freaking Hilarious.'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-1136723180003332602</id><published>2008-03-21T15:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:33.701-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Disneyland</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/R-RDD5BPqsI/AAAAAAAAAMc/I1jWY96pUO4/s1600-h/griswolds.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/R-RDD5BPqsI/AAAAAAAAAMc/I1jWY96pUO4/s320/griswolds.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5180339205507623618" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're going to Disneyland in 6 days. I'm freaking out. &lt;br /&gt;First off, no one is completely well yet. The kids are fine, but still have hacking coughs. I have a cough. Kate has a cough. Josh is dying. His flu has morphed into Bronchitis. We finally got him something more than over the counter meds today. He's taking cough syrup with codeine now. That might do the trick, but we're screwed if it doesn't. &lt;br /&gt;Second, Sarah Gallo will be here in a few hours. We have a whole week of stuff planned while she's here and (reread above paragraph).&lt;br /&gt;Third, I have NO IDEA HOW TO PACK FOR THIS TRIP!!!! Seriously, is it going to be warm enough for shorts and flip flops? Do I pack jackets? What about for Kate? Stroller? Car seat? What the hell am I supposed to pack?&lt;br /&gt;Lastly, we're flying with Kate and the kids are going with Josh's parents on a separate flight. They've never flown before and although they're not scared at all, I am.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-1136723180003332602?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/1136723180003332602/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=1136723180003332602' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/1136723180003332602'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/1136723180003332602'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2008/03/disneyland.html' title='Disneyland'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/R-RDD5BPqsI/AAAAAAAAAMc/I1jWY96pUO4/s72-c/griswolds.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-3273753921434254959</id><published>2008-03-18T07:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-03-19T10:29:00.016-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Will It Ever End???</title><content type='html'>I'm so sick of being sick. We have the flu. Sunday night, I had a fever of almost 103 degrees. Hayden's fever peaked at 104.5. I'm almost better now, and the kids are recovering too. Josh, however is just starting. He's been in bed for a day and a half now. If Kate gets sick, we could be in the hospital. Please keep her in your prayers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;UPDATE: Kate has a fever. Damn it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;UPDATE: It's Wednesday morning, Josh has a 102 degree fever and is still in bed. Kate has a low fever, but is pretty miserable and I'm fairly confident we're just at the beginning of hers. I am currently coughing up both of my lungs. Besides that, we're fantastic!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-3273753921434254959?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/3273753921434254959/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=3273753921434254959' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/3273753921434254959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/3273753921434254959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2008/03/will-it-ever-end.html' title='Will It Ever End???'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-2503156562220607768</id><published>2008-03-10T09:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:33.922-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Geek Squad</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/R9VnJCH0KqI/AAAAAAAAAMU/z3zJKuI2BBo/s1600-h/WOTW6.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/R9VnJCH0KqI/AAAAAAAAAMU/z3zJKuI2BBo/s320/WOTW6.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176156751618386594" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just proved myself to be SUCH a girl. I was trying to print something from my laptop to the printer in the office. It didn't immediately work, so I thought maybe there was no paper. I checked. There was. Hmmm, what else could it be? I turned the printer off, waited a few seconds and turned it back on. Nothing. I went back to the laptop, hit print again and waited. Nothing. Gee, maybe I should try clicking "print" again, and again and again. Still nothing. So, I caved and called Josh. He said it's probably unplugged from the computer. He said to plug the blue network cable into the switch that was near the computer. I figured all of this out after a few minutes of standing in the middle of the office and spinning in circles. I often find that this not only helps me think, but also amuses me. So, network cable in, try printing again. Whoa!! It printed. 8 copies.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-2503156562220607768?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/2503156562220607768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=2503156562220607768' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/2503156562220607768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/2503156562220607768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2008/03/geek-squad.html' title='Geek Squad'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/R9VnJCH0KqI/AAAAAAAAAMU/z3zJKuI2BBo/s72-c/WOTW6.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-3134079384022329380</id><published>2008-02-29T08:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-02-29T08:33:09.855-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Autism "Aggravated" by Vaccines</title><content type='html'>This is a LONG read, but if you're interested, it's worth the time. Josh and I decided not to give Kate any immunizations until she's at least 2 years old, and possibly not even then. We did all the required shots for Lauren and Hayden with no negative outcome, but didn't want to jinx it. So, if you're thinking we're just a coupla hippies, here's some of why we made our decision. If you do read it, let me know what your thoughts are on the subject, even if you don't have kids. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.huffingtonpost.com/david-kirby/government-concedes-vacci_b_88&lt;br /&gt;323.html&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Government Concedes Vaccine-Autism Case in Federal Court - Now What?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After years of insisting there is no evidence to link vaccines with the&lt;br /&gt;onset of autism spectrum disorder (ASD), the US government has quietly&lt;br /&gt;conceded a vaccine-autism case in the Court of Federal Claims.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The unprecedented concession was filed on November 9, and sealed to&lt;br /&gt;protect the plaintiff's identify. It was obtained through individuals&lt;br /&gt;unrelated to the case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The claim, one of 4,900 autism cases currently pending in Federal&lt;br /&gt;"Vaccine Court," was conceded by US Assistant Attorney General Peter&lt;br /&gt;Keisler and other Justice Department officials, on behalf of the&lt;br /&gt;Department of Health and Human Services, the "defendant" in all Vaccine&lt;br /&gt;Court cases.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The child's claim against the government -- that mercury-containing&lt;br /&gt;vaccines were the cause of her autism -- was supposed to be one of three&lt;br /&gt;"test cases" for the thimerosal-autism theory currently under&lt;br /&gt;consideration by a three-member panel of Special Masters, the presiding&lt;br /&gt;justices in Federal Claims Court.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keisler wrote that medical personnel at the HHS Division of Vaccine&lt;br /&gt;Injury Compensation (DVIC) had reviewed the case and "concluded that&lt;br /&gt;compensation is appropriate."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The doctors conceded that the child was healthy and developing normally&lt;br /&gt;until her 18-month well-baby visit, when she received vaccinations&lt;br /&gt;against nine different diseases all at once (two contained thimerosal).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Days later, the girl began spiraling downward into a cascade of&lt;br /&gt;illnesses and setbacks that, within months, presented as symptoms of&lt;br /&gt;autism, including: No response to verbal direction; loss of language&lt;br /&gt;skills; no eye contact; loss of "relatedness;" insomnia; incessant&lt;br /&gt;screaming; arching; and "watching the florescent lights repeatedly&lt;br /&gt;during examination."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seven months after vaccination, the patient was diagnosed by Dr. Andrew&lt;br /&gt;Zimmerman, a leading neurologist at the Kennedy Krieger Children's&lt;br /&gt;Hospital Neurology Clinic, with "regressive encephalopathy (brain&lt;br /&gt;disease) with features consistent with autistic spectrum disorder,&lt;br /&gt;following normal development." The girl also met the Diagnostic and&lt;br /&gt;Statistical Manual for Mental Disorders (DSM-IV) official criteria for&lt;br /&gt;autism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In its written concession, the government said the child had a&lt;br /&gt;pre-existing mitochondrial disorder that was "aggravated" by her shots,&lt;br /&gt;and which ultimately resulted in an ASD diagnosis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The vaccinations received on July 19, 2000, significantly aggravated an&lt;br /&gt;underlying mitochondrial disorder," the concession says, "which&lt;br /&gt;predisposed her to deficits in cellular energy metabolism, and&lt;br /&gt;manifested as a regressive encephalopathy with features of ASD."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This statement is good news for the girl and her family, who will now be&lt;br /&gt;compensated for the lifetime of care she will require. But its&lt;br /&gt;implications for the larger vaccine-autism debate, and for public health&lt;br /&gt;policy in general, are not as certain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In fact, the government's concession seems to raise more questions than&lt;br /&gt;it answers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Is there a connection between vaccines, mitochondrial disorders and a&lt;br /&gt;diagnosis of autism, at least in some cases?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mitochondria, you may recall from biology class, are the little&lt;br /&gt;powerhouses within cells that convert food into electrical energy,&lt;br /&gt;partly through a complex process called "oxidative phosphorylation." If&lt;br /&gt;this process is impaired, mitochondrial disorder will ensue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The child in this case had several markers for Mt disease, which was&lt;br /&gt;confirmed by muscle biopsy. Mt disease is often marked by lethargy, poor&lt;br /&gt;muscle tone, poor food digestion and bowel problems, something found in&lt;br /&gt;many children diagnosed with autism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But mitochondrial disorders are rare in the general population,&lt;br /&gt;affecting some 2-per-10,000 people (or just 0.2%). So with 4,900 cases&lt;br /&gt;filed in Vaccine Court, this case should be the one and only, extremely&lt;br /&gt;rare instance of Mt disease in all the autism proceedings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it is not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mitochondrial disorders are now thought to be the most common disease&lt;br /&gt;associated with ASD. Some journal articles and other analyses have&lt;br /&gt;estimated that 10% to 20% of all autism cases may involve mitochondrial&lt;br /&gt;disorders, which would make them one thousand times more common among&lt;br /&gt;people with ASD than the general population.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another article, published in the Journal of Child Neurology and&lt;br /&gt;co-authored by Dr. Zimmerman, showed that 38% of Kennedy Krieger&lt;br /&gt;Institute autism patients studied had one marker for impaired oxidative&lt;br /&gt;phosphorylation, and 47% had a second marker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The authors -- who reported on a case-study of the same autism claim&lt;br /&gt;conceded in Vaccine Court -- noted that "children who have&lt;br /&gt;(mitochondrial-related) dysfunctional cellular energy metabolism might&lt;br /&gt;be more prone to undergo autistic regression between 18 and 30 months of&lt;br /&gt;age if they also have infections or immunizations at the same time."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;An interesting aspect of Mt disease in autism is that, with ASD, the&lt;br /&gt;mitochondrial disease seems to be milder than in "classic" cases of Mt&lt;br /&gt;disorder. In fact, classic Mt disease is almost always inherited, either&lt;br /&gt;passed down by the mother through mitochondrial DNA, or by both parents&lt;br /&gt;through nuclear DNA.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In autism-related Mt disease, however, the disorder is not typically&lt;br /&gt;found in other family members, and instead appears to be largely of the&lt;br /&gt;sporadic variety, which may now account for 75% of all mitochondrial&lt;br /&gt;disorders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, an informal survey of seven families of children with cases&lt;br /&gt;currently pending in Vaccine Court revealed that all seven showed&lt;br /&gt;markers for mitochondrial dysfunction, dating back to their earliest&lt;br /&gt;medical tests. The facts in all seven claims mirror the case just&lt;br /&gt;conceded by the government: Normal development followed by vaccination,&lt;br /&gt;immediate illness, and rapid decline culminating in an autism diagnosis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) With 4,900 cases pending, and more coming, will the government&lt;br /&gt;concede those with underlying Mt disease -- and if it not, will the&lt;br /&gt;Court award compensation?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Court will soon begin processing the 4900 cases pending before it.&lt;br /&gt;What if 10% to 20% of them can demonstrate the same Mt disease and same&lt;br /&gt;set of facts as those in the conceded case? Would the government be&lt;br /&gt;obliged to concede 500, or even 1,000 cases? What impact would that have&lt;br /&gt;on public opinion? And is there enough money currently in the vaccine&lt;br /&gt;injury fund to cover so many settlements?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When asked for a comment last week about the court settlement, a&lt;br /&gt;spokesman for HHS furnished the following written statement:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"DVIC has reviewed the scientific information concerning the allegation&lt;br /&gt;that vaccines cause autism and has found no credible evidence to support&lt;br /&gt;the claim. Accordingly, in every case under the Vaccine Act, DVIC has&lt;br /&gt;maintained the position that vaccines do not cause autism, and has never&lt;br /&gt;concluded in any case that autism was caused by vaccination."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) If the government is claiming that vaccines did not "cause" autism,&lt;br /&gt;but instead aggravated a condition to "manifest" as autism, isn't that a&lt;br /&gt;very fine distinction?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For most affected families, such linguistic gymnastics is not so&lt;br /&gt;important. And even if a vaccine injury "manifested" as autism in only&lt;br /&gt;one case, isn't that still a significant development worthy of informing&lt;br /&gt;the public?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand, perhaps what the government is claiming is that&lt;br /&gt;vaccination resulted in the symptoms of autism, but not in an actual,&lt;br /&gt;factually correct diagnosis of autism itself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) If the government is claiming that this child does NOT have autism,&lt;br /&gt;then how many other children might also have something else that merely&lt;br /&gt;"mimics" autism?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it possible that 10%-20% of the cases that we now label as "autism,"&lt;br /&gt;are not autism at all, but rather some previously undefined "look-alike"&lt;br /&gt;syndrome that merely presents as "features" of autism?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This question gets to the heart of what autism actually is. The disorder&lt;br /&gt;is defined solely as a collection of features, nothing more. If you have&lt;br /&gt;the features (and the diagnosis), you have the disorder. The underlying&lt;br /&gt;biology is the great unknown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But let's say the government does determine that these kids don't have&lt;br /&gt;actual "autism" (something I speculated on HuffPost a year ago). Then&lt;br /&gt;shouldn't the Feds go back and test all people with ASD for impaired&lt;br /&gt;oxidative phosphorylation, perhaps reclassifying many of them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If so, will we then see "autism" cases drop by tens, if not hundreds of&lt;br /&gt;thousands of people? Will there be a corresponding ascension of a newly&lt;br /&gt;described disorder, perhaps something like "Vaccine Aggravated&lt;br /&gt;Mitochondrial Disease with Features of ASD?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if this child was technically "misdiagnosed" with DSM-IV autism by&lt;br /&gt;Dr Zimmerman, how does he feel about HHS doctors issuing a second&lt;br /&gt;opinion re-diagnosis of his patient, whom they presumably had neither&lt;br /&gt;met nor examined? (Zimmerman declined an interview).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And along those lines, aren't Bush administration officials somewhat&lt;br /&gt;wary of making long-distance, retroactive diagnoses from Washington,&lt;br /&gt;given that the Terry Schiavo incident has not yet faded from national&lt;br /&gt;memory?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5) Was this child's Mt disease caused by a genetic mutation, as the&lt;br /&gt;government implies, and wouldn't that have manifested as "ASD features"&lt;br /&gt;anyway?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the concession, the government notes that the patient had a "single&lt;br /&gt;nucleotide change" in the mitochondrial DNA gene T2387C, implying that&lt;br /&gt;this was the underlying cause of her manifested "features" of autism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While it's true that some inherited forms of Mt disease can manifest as&lt;br /&gt;developmental delays, (and even ASD in the form of Rhett Syndrome) these&lt;br /&gt;forms are linked to identified genetic mutations, of which T2387C is not&lt;br /&gt;involved. In fact little, if anything, is known about the function of&lt;br /&gt;this particular gene.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's more, there is no evidence that this girl, prior to vaccination,&lt;br /&gt;suffered from any kind of "disorder" at all- genetic, mitochondrial or&lt;br /&gt;otherwise. Some forms of Mt disease are so mild that the person is&lt;br /&gt;unaware of being affected. This perfectly developing girl may have had&lt;br /&gt;Mt disorder at the time of vaccination, but nobody detected, or even&lt;br /&gt;suspected it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, there is no evidence to suggest that this girl would have regressed&lt;br /&gt;into symptoms consistent with a DSM-IV autism diagnosis without her&lt;br /&gt;vaccinations. If there was such evidence, then why on earth would these&lt;br /&gt;extremely well-funded government attorneys compensate this alleged&lt;br /&gt;injury in Vaccine Court? Why wouldn't they move to dismiss, or at least&lt;br /&gt;fight the case at trial?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6) What are the implications for research?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The concession raises at least two critical research questions: What are&lt;br /&gt;the causes of Mt dysfunction; and how could vaccines aggravate that&lt;br /&gt;dysfunction to the point of "autistic features?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While some Mt disorders are clearly inherited, the "sporadic" form is&lt;br /&gt;thought to account for 75% of all cases, according to the United&lt;br /&gt;Mitochondrial Disease Foundation. So what causes sporadic Mt disease?&lt;br /&gt;"Medicines or other toxins," says the Cleveland Clinic, a leading&lt;br /&gt;authority on the subject.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Use of the AIDS drug AZT, for example, can cause Mt disorders by&lt;br /&gt;deleting large segments of mitochondrial DNA. If that is the case, might&lt;br /&gt;other exposures to drugs or toxins (i.e., thimerosal, mercury in fish,&lt;br /&gt;air pollution, pesticides, live viruses) also cause sporadic Mt disease&lt;br /&gt;in certain subsets of children, through similar genotoxic mechanisms?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Among the prime cellular targets of mercury are mitochondria, and&lt;br /&gt;thimerosal-induced cell death has been associated with the&lt;br /&gt;depolarization of mitochondrial membrane, according to the International&lt;br /&gt;Journal of Molecular Medicine among several others. (Coincidently, the&lt;br /&gt;first case of Mt disease was diagnosed in 1959, just 15 years after the&lt;br /&gt;first autism case was named, and two decades after thimerosal's&lt;br /&gt;introduction as a vaccine preservative.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Regardless of its cause, shouldn't HHS sponsor research into Mt disease&lt;br /&gt;and the biological mechanisms by which vaccines could aggravate the&lt;br /&gt;disorder? We still do not know what it was, exactly, about this girl's&lt;br /&gt;vaccines that aggravated her condition. Was it the thimerosal? The three&lt;br /&gt;live viruses? The two attenuated viruses? Other ingredients like&lt;br /&gt;aluminum? A combination of the above?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And of course, if vaccine injuries can aggravate Mt disease to the point&lt;br /&gt;of manifesting as autism features, then what other underlying disorders&lt;br /&gt;or conditions (genetic, autoimmune, allergic, etc.) might also be&lt;br /&gt;aggravated to the same extent?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7) What are the implications for medicine and public health?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Should the government develop and approve new treatments for "aggravated&lt;br /&gt;mitochondrial disease with ASD features?" Interestingly, many of the&lt;br /&gt;treatments currently deployed in Mt disease (i.e., coenzyme Q10, vitamin&lt;br /&gt;B-12, lipoic acid, biotin, dietary changes, etc.) are part of the&lt;br /&gt;alternative treatment regimen that many parents use on their children&lt;br /&gt;with ASD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And, if a significant minority of autism cases can be linked to Mt&lt;br /&gt;disease and vaccines, shouldn't these products one day carry an FDA&lt;br /&gt;Black Box warning label, and shouldn't children with Mt disorders be&lt;br /&gt;exempt from mandatory immunization?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8) What are the implications for the vaccine-autism debate?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's too early to tell. But this concession could conceivably make it&lt;br /&gt;more difficult for some officials to continue insisting there is&lt;br /&gt;"absolutely no link" between vaccines and autism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It also puts the Federal Government's Vaccine Court defense strategy&lt;br /&gt;somewhat into jeopardy. DOJ lawyers and witnesses have argued that&lt;br /&gt;autism is genetic, with no evidence to support an environmental&lt;br /&gt;component. And, they insist, it's simply impossible to construct a chain&lt;br /&gt;of events linking immunizations to the disorder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Government officials may need to rethink their legal strategy, as well&lt;br /&gt;as their public relations campaigns, given their own slightly&lt;br /&gt;contradictory concession in this case.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9) What is the bottom line here?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The public, (including world leaders) will demand to know what is going&lt;br /&gt;on inside the US Federal health establishment. Yes, as of now, n=1, a&lt;br /&gt;solitary vaccine-autism concession. But what if n=10% or 20%? Who will&lt;br /&gt;pay to clean up that mess?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The significance of this concession will unfortunately be fought over in&lt;br /&gt;the usual, vitriolic way -- and I fully expect to be slammed for even&lt;br /&gt;raising these questions. Despite that, the language of this concession&lt;br /&gt;cannot be changed, or swept away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Its key words are "aggravated" and "manifested." Without the aggravation&lt;br /&gt;of the vaccines, it is uncertain that the manifestation would have&lt;br /&gt;occurred at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When a kid with peanut allergy eats a peanut and dies, we don't say "his&lt;br /&gt;underlying metabolic condition was significantly aggravated to the&lt;br /&gt;extent of manifesting as an anaphylactic shock with features of death."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, we say the peanut killed the poor boy. Remove the peanut from the&lt;br /&gt;equation, and he would still be with us today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Many people look forward to hearing more from HHS officials about why&lt;br /&gt;they are settling this claim. But whatever their explanation, they&lt;br /&gt;cannot change the fundamental facts of this extraordinary case:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The United State government is compensating at least one child for&lt;br /&gt;vaccine injuries that resulted in a diagnosis of autism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that is big news, no matter how you want to say it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NOTE: Full text of the government's statement is posted here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;David Kirby is the author of "Evidence of Harm - Mercury in Vaccines and&lt;br /&gt;the Autism Epidemic, A Medical Controversy" (St. Martins Press 2005.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-3134079384022329380?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/3134079384022329380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=3134079384022329380' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/3134079384022329380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/3134079384022329380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2008/02/autism-aggravated-by-vaccines.html' title='Autism &quot;Aggravated&quot; by Vaccines'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-2768958991392422379</id><published>2008-02-27T08:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:34.044-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Wierd Ass Dream</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/R8WbMh3PRJI/AAAAAAAAAMM/niE2wzoXzus/s1600-h/naked+dream.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/R8WbMh3PRJI/AAAAAAAAAMM/niE2wzoXzus/s320/naked+dream.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171710386655675538" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hear people talk about their dreams and they always seem to make some sort of sense. Josh has dreams that are just an extension of his real life. Like he's got a really cool car, or he's on a great vacation, etc. If they get scary, he has enough control to wake himself from his nightmare. Can anyone else do that? I sure can't. I am deep in my crazy world.&lt;br /&gt;The only other person I know who has dreams as wierd as mine is my dad. I must have gotten it from him. &lt;br /&gt;I had a dream last night that I was at prom, in some rundown house. Josh was wearing his fleece and I was wearing someone's borrowed dress. Josh was grumpy, so I decided to go for a walk with my friends Kara, Devon, Sarah and others. We were walking through a cave that reminded me of Indiana Jones. I somehow became barefoot, so Devon carried me piggy back. After climbing a fence to get into Sarah's backyard, we finally made it back to the party. Josh was mad that I was on Devon's back. Jason Rood was sitting at a table having people sign a petition for an Animal Sanctuary. So, what the heck do you think THAT might mean...? I don't do drugs, but I'm starting to think they might help...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-2768958991392422379?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/2768958991392422379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=2768958991392422379' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/2768958991392422379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/2768958991392422379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2008/02/wierd-ass-dream.html' title='Wierd Ass Dream'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/R8WbMh3PRJI/AAAAAAAAAMM/niE2wzoXzus/s72-c/naked+dream.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-7960620666519235211</id><published>2008-02-11T16:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:34.556-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Puppies!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/R7DrrR3PRII/AAAAAAAAAME/xB1eKV1A2oA/s1600-h/motivational_leadership.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/R7DrrR3PRII/AAAAAAAAAME/xB1eKV1A2oA/s320/motivational_leadership.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165887901355951234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/R7DrYR3PRHI/AAAAAAAAAL8/gSPRvg1x_rM/s1600-h/motivational-poster-ignorance-fleeting-small.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/R7DrYR3PRHI/AAAAAAAAAL8/gSPRvg1x_rM/s320/motivational-poster-ignorance-fleeting-small.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165887574938436722" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So we finally went to see Josh's dad out in Sheridan. Their miniature dachsunds had puppies in December. Yes, that would be mini minis. Oh yes. There were 5 blonde bundles of fur running around in a kennel. It was a serious cuteness overload. They were pouncing eachother and nearly biting the ears off of their mother. The best was when the mom was nursing them. She's so short that she just stood there while they all got on their backs and slid under her like they were changing the oil. 5 soft little tummies all sticking up while they ate. These pictures are unrelated, just freaking hilarious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/R7DrGx3PRGI/AAAAAAAAAL0/AztYkyZOVNM/s1600-h/gravity-just-a-theory.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/R7DrGx3PRGI/AAAAAAAAAL0/AztYkyZOVNM/s320/gravity-just-a-theory.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165887274290725986" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-7960620666519235211?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/7960620666519235211/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=7960620666519235211' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/7960620666519235211'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/7960620666519235211'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2008/02/puppies.html' title='Puppies!!'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/R7DrrR3PRII/AAAAAAAAAME/xB1eKV1A2oA/s72-c/motivational_leadership.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-4261620577246860189</id><published>2008-01-24T20:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:34.680-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Since Fox Won't Talk About Him</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/R5lrgeDrNvI/AAAAAAAAALk/60xL9IlVhl4/s1600-h/email-header.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/R5lrgeDrNvI/AAAAAAAAALk/60xL9IlVhl4/s320/email-header.gif" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159273053698078450" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just sent an email to Fox News to express my disappointment with their complete lack of coverage for Ron Paul. They actually have the tagline, "We Report. You Decide." on their webpage. Looks like they've already decided for millions of Americans who rely on them for their "news", bless their ignorant hearts...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whether or not you support Ron Paul, you've got to pay attention to this screwiness. Yes, I just wrote "screwiness".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-4261620577246860189?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/4261620577246860189/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=4261620577246860189' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/4261620577246860189'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/4261620577246860189'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2008/01/since-fox-wont-talk-about-him.html' title='Since Fox Won&apos;t Talk About Him'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/R5lrgeDrNvI/AAAAAAAAALk/60xL9IlVhl4/s72-c/email-header.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-554985468784025477</id><published>2008-01-14T10:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:34.998-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Monday Monday....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/R4uqdZ3zrBI/AAAAAAAAALU/yqOabeRXijw/s1600-h/mamas+and+the+papas.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/R4uqdZ3zrBI/AAAAAAAAALU/yqOabeRXijw/s320/mamas+and+the+papas.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155401620593552402" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(That would be the Mamas and the Papas song) I actually hate them. Josh had the cd when we got married and it got stuck in our cd player in the car when some jerk off broke in and stole just the face of the stereo. You couldn't turn it off, just down. So if you wanted music, it was always the "Best of the Mamas and the Papas". It was my own private hell. Josh still likes them, but he's crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was another birthday party day. We had one at 12 at the aquatic center, or as my dad calls it, the bean dip. It was actually really fun. Josh and I didn't have our suits, but the kids played in the pool for almost 2 hours. They were nice and pruney by the time we left. While we were there, we looked into a membership. It's cheap! For $130, the whole family gets in to the pool and gym for 3 months! I think we might do it, we'll see. The place has been totally renovated, so it's really nice now too. They even put in a giant water slide. I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw Lauren and Hayden going down it. Hayden's brave, but Lauren's a huge wimp. She loved it though!&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/R4uqTZ3zrAI/AAAAAAAAALM/0lSxJvfcFgA/s1600-h/SHARCSlide.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/R4uqTZ3zrAI/AAAAAAAAALM/0lSxJvfcFgA/s320/SHARCSlide.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155401448794860546" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 5pm, Lauren had another party at a pizza place. I just dropped her off for this one. No need to sit around and talk to a bunch of people I don't know when I could just come back in an hour and a half.&lt;br /&gt;So after we went to the Thompsons' house on Saturday, I've been feeling a huge weight on me to get my house in order. My goal is going to be getting this house ready to sell, even if it's not going to be for awhile still. Josh was actually contemplating getting a POD in our driveway so we could redo the entire upstairs. We need to replace the carpet, either with new carpet or laminate wood. I think we'd probably go with carpet, but wood would be sweet. We also need to repaint the whole upstairs. Anyone in for some manual labor??? :)&lt;br /&gt;Alright, so I guess I should start doing some of this work I'm talking about. Writing it in a blog won't get it done. Damn.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-554985468784025477?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/554985468784025477/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=554985468784025477' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/554985468784025477'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/554985468784025477'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2008/01/monday-monday.html' title='Monday Monday....'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/R4uqdZ3zrBI/AAAAAAAAALU/yqOabeRXijw/s72-c/mamas+and+the+papas.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-227221516041535738</id><published>2008-01-10T19:46:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:35.242-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy New Year!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/R4btKJ3zq_I/AAAAAAAAALE/UeMPDO7_naA/s1600-h/kategiggling.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/R4btKJ3zq_I/AAAAAAAAALE/UeMPDO7_naA/s320/kategiggling.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5154067582276578290" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, so it's already the 10th. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, to catch everyone up on my EXCITING life:&lt;br /&gt;We had a great Christmas. It was one of those really meaningful ones for me for some reason. Not too much going on to enjoy the people I was with. We started out at the Chilcotts on Christmas Eve and did the annual prime rib dinner followed by some present action. Their gift to us was a trip to Disneyland in March. Woohoo! We opened presents in the morning at our house. The kids were pretty stoked that the "reindeer" chewed up and spit out their carrots all over the yard. We headed over to the Macs after that for the real Christmas. :) It was great. Our big present from my parents and Papa &amp; Connie was a trip to a house in Sunriver for a week in June. I can't wait! We went to see "Water Horse" afterwards. Cute movie. Cheesy as heck, but cute.&lt;br /&gt;We spent New Years at the Strauss' party. Lauren and Hayden stayed at Gramma Sue and Papa Jim's overnight. Kate came with us. She's a party animal.&lt;br /&gt;Since then, we've just been catching up. The kids finally went back to school on the 7th. Christmas vacation is WAY too long in my opinion. &lt;br /&gt;Hayden got a dirtbike for Christmas, so he and Josh have been riding it around the neighborhood. He can do it by himself now, which is good, but freaks me out. Josh took him last weekend to get his gear. He has a helmet, gloves, boots, shirt, pants, knee pads, elbow pads and a collar. He looks like a power ranger when he's in all of it. Pretty hilarious.&lt;br /&gt;Lauren is completley obsessed with her new ipod. They watch a movie on it in her bed every night before bed. It's so cute.&lt;br /&gt;Josh is getting into the groove of his new job. It's so nice to actually eat dinner together again.&lt;br /&gt;Everyone is really enjoying Kate. She's an awesome and really funny baby. She LOVES the tv. I can set her down on the floor and she'll "watch" it for 10 minutes or so. She talks to it and smiles. She's even been sleeping on and off through the night. The other day, she went to bed at 11pm and didn't wake up until 9am. She woke up happy and didn't even want to eat until after 10. I kept wondering if she was ok, but she was fine! Really, besides being a little on the barfy side, she's perfect! The cloth diaper thing has really proven itself to me. I was using up some disposables that I found in one of the hand me down bins from Emily. She instantly got a little rash and woke up several times during the night. The minute I went back to her cloth, she was back to normal. It's a little more work for sure, and she doesn't fit into her clothes very well with the J-Lo butt, but it's totally worth it and I feel good about not needing to upsize my trash can.&lt;br /&gt;I just found out that my sister in law Jessica is pregnant. This is not totally good news. She's kind of a looney and has all sorts of health issues. I'm happy for her because she and her husband have been trying for awhile, but I'm also nervous about what kind of freaky child they will have. &lt;br /&gt;Well, I'm off to do more laundry. It's never ending around here. I'm blessed to have a warm house with a laundry room in it. I would be a really unhappy person if I had to use a laundromat for all this laundry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-227221516041535738?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/227221516041535738/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=227221516041535738' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/227221516041535738'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/227221516041535738'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2008/01/happy-new-year.html' title='Happy New Year!'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/R4btKJ3zq_I/AAAAAAAAALE/UeMPDO7_naA/s72-c/kategiggling.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-7301237186409683725</id><published>2007-12-20T09:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:35.809-08:00</updated><title type='text'>December</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/R2qsQZ3zq9I/AAAAAAAAAK0/sajHjkz9s0A/s1600-h/Merry%2520Christmas%25202005.png"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/R2qsQZ3zq9I/AAAAAAAAAK0/sajHjkz9s0A/s400/Merry%2520Christmas%25202005.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5146114922047056850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, here it is, 5 days from Christmas. It's been a crazy month (or 3). We started the month out with an insane storm that pretty much wiped out Vernonia. Thankfully, Amy and her family were safe, except for that storage unit of Maggie and Rich's that was filled 5 feet with water...and the Airstream that went missing after floating down the creek...but everyONE was ok.&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/R2qseJ3zq-I/AAAAAAAAAK8/ChgoQ4jKrt8/s1600-h/airstream.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/R2qseJ3zq-I/AAAAAAAAAK8/ChgoQ4jKrt8/s400/airstream.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5146115158270258146" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Josh and I saw the Trans Siberian Orchestra (see prev. post) on the 2nd. &lt;br /&gt;We had Hayden's birthday party at Pump it Up on the 9th. It really was a blast. The best part was Sarah Thompson, Haley and I racing through an obstacle course. I went flying through a very small opening and threw myself on top of Haley, who in turn flew onto Molly. Did I stop? Hell no, I won. Josh challenged me to a race. I was all cocky and thought it was no challenge. I was wrong, very wrong. I even cheated and started without him. By the time I was about 1/5 of the way through, he was done. I swear, he's got super powers. And to top it all off, Hayden puked at his party, which was awesome.&lt;br /&gt;Thursday, the 13th, my parents took Hayden to the Holiday Express steam engine ride from Oaks Park. He loved it and keeps calling it the Polar Express, like the movie. So what if they didn't go to the North Pole, he doesn't care.&lt;br /&gt;On the 14th, Amy came and took Hayden toy shopping &amp; to dinner. They spent the evening together. She did the same with Lauren for her birthday in November, only they went clothes shopping. She pretty much outdid herself. They both had so much fun and felt really special.&lt;br /&gt;Kara had a Christmas party on the 15th. At the last minute, my very good friend Sarah from high school, decided to come. She took the train from Tacoma and spent the weekend with us. Crazy enough, after almost 10 years, we still think the same and finish eachother's sentences. It was really great. The party was fantastic, we stayed until 2am, with Kate in tow. She was a trooper, I tell you. She only cried on the way there and back. I mean, the entire trip. But she was happy as a clam at the party!&lt;br /&gt;My parents had a party on the 16th, sort of an extended Sunday dinner. We had the usual crew, minus the Thompsons (they're in Florida) plus the Sprechers, Ashley's mom and step dad, Amy &amp; the Chilcott boys. Andrew is back in town for a month, so it was good to see him. He finally got to meet Kate.&lt;br /&gt;The 18th was Mom's birthday, so Emily, Haley &amp; I took her to lunch at Red Robin. Mmmm, I could eat there every day.&lt;br /&gt;Today is Pajama Day at Mooberry. Hayden's wearing his new Spiderman jammies and Lauren's wearing her purple long johns with pink furry slippers. So cute. It's Hayden's last day until after the break. Tomorrow's Lauren's last day. I'm going to miss school...&lt;br /&gt;So, the weekend is fast approaching, thank God. Josh is going to have a 4 day weekend, which is much needed after starting his new job. He's absolutely exhausted. He's not used to getting up at 7:30 every morning. And because he's going through all this new employee training, he doesn't have enough time to get his actual job done, so he's staying late every night. I'm looking forward to him being on a schedule, knowing when he'll be home for dinner, etc. But until then, we'll just keep passing like ships in the night and wait for that day.&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe it, only 5 days 'til Christmas! I need to get myself in the spirit! Maybe some music will help. Bing, take it away!&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/R2qsH53zq8I/AAAAAAAAAKs/tW_DyAMAZrY/s1600-h/Bing_Crosby_320x240.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/R2qsH53zq8I/AAAAAAAAAKs/tW_DyAMAZrY/s400/Bing_Crosby_320x240.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5146114776018168770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you all, Merry Christmas!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-7301237186409683725?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/7301237186409683725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=7301237186409683725' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/7301237186409683725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/7301237186409683725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/12/december.html' title='December'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/R2qsQZ3zq9I/AAAAAAAAAK0/sajHjkz9s0A/s72-c/Merry%2520Christmas%25202005.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-3619950624042970963</id><published>2007-12-03T19:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:35.967-08:00</updated><title type='text'>"Rock Never Dies!"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/R1THZjhsKWI/AAAAAAAAAKk/a9y-vCv_pg8/s1600-R/tso.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/R1THZjhsKWI/AAAAAAAAAKk/qDamOhilHDU/s400/tso.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139952316583782754" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://youtube.com/watch?v=irYg8dl_P8E&amp;feature=related&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I heard that yelled at this show last night. We went to see the Trans Siberian Orchestra. We aquired tickets to the sold out show because Aaron's family goes every year. It's a tradition that dates back (I have no idea) years. Well, his mom passed away last year &amp; in order to keep the tradition alive, Aaron bought tickets as soon as they went on sale. Come to find out, his dad wouldn't be able to go. He was going to be in Mexico with his new wife. Yes, already...&lt;br /&gt;So, we got tickets.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know exactly what I expected, but it wasn't this. I was picturing a much more elegant show. Not to say I didn't LOVE it, just totally more "mullet", than elegant. There was a drunk woman headbanging right next to Aaron and some unfortunate 9-ish year old girl who was literally worshipping the band from a standing position. Probably pissing off the people behind her. There were a lot of "rock" hands. You know, like the sign language "I love you", but more devil horns.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know if you can tell unless you know what to look for, but in the video you can see a girl running around with a violin. She was crazy &amp; awesome. Anyway, this show pretty much kicked butt. We hope to go again next year with the kids. Anyone want to watch Kate? :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-3619950624042970963?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/3619950624042970963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=3619950624042970963' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/3619950624042970963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/3619950624042970963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/12/rock-never-dies.html' title='&quot;Rock Never Dies!&quot;'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/R1THZjhsKWI/AAAAAAAAAKk/qDamOhilHDU/s72-c/tso.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-5304240887962884367</id><published>2007-11-29T17:45:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:36.397-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Changes</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/R09uUdGmFAI/AAAAAAAAAKc/m4EFShiyOC8/s1600-R/sun.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/R09uUdGmFAI/AAAAAAAAAKc/GmcNIj1MzVM/s400/sun.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5138446997541753858" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, today was Josh's last day as a full time employee of the Public Defenders' office. He starts his new job for the Library Services on Saturday. It's a bittersweet day for both of us. He has been working there for an astonishing 10 years. I met him downtown for lunch today. We actually ate in his lunchroom with a bunch of his coworkers. There were so many well-wishers and genuinely sad goodbyes. We went back to his office after lunch and as I was sitting there nursing Kate and Josh was down the hall taking care of last minute business, I was thinking about all the times I had come downtown for lunch with him. The first time was when we were first dating. My car overheated on the freeway and I was about 45 minutes late and had no cell phone to call him. It was mighty embarrassing... I was remembering all the times I brought our kids in to see him, starting with baby Lauren and ending today with baby Kate. Wierd, we're so much older now. He started that job in highschool and we're 27 years old now with 3 kids. &lt;br /&gt;So here's to new beginnings!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-5304240887962884367?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/5304240887962884367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=5304240887962884367' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/5304240887962884367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/5304240887962884367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/11/changes.html' title='Changes'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/R09uUdGmFAI/AAAAAAAAAKc/GmcNIj1MzVM/s72-c/sun.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-3338518806121761664</id><published>2007-11-25T16:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-25T16:49:33.069-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Aaah, Christmas is Here!</title><content type='html'>Kate is just about the best thing EVER. She's wearing a giant puffy lavender bunting with a hood. I took her outside to visit with the neighbors while Josh was putting up lights and the big kids were riding their bikes. She was passed around like a joint between the women on my street. She's so good. I am so cold however, that my butt is actually numb. I mean really numb. The blood is making its way back to my extremities, but the rear end is always last to warm back up. Or as Ashley would call it, my honches.&lt;br /&gt;So yeah, we have our Christmas lights up! And the inside is decorated too, all but the tree. It just instantly puts me in a better mood.&lt;br /&gt;Well, that is all for now. I'm heading downstairs to watch The Santa Clause with the fam. I'm a tad giddy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-3338518806121761664?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/3338518806121761664/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=3338518806121761664' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/3338518806121761664'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/3338518806121761664'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/11/aaah-christmas-is-here.html' title='Aaah, Christmas is Here!'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-835380036076564466</id><published>2007-11-13T12:25:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2007-11-13T12:43:11.340-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Suburbia Sucketh</title><content type='html'>Sunday was Lauren's birthday party. It pretty much rocked everyone's socks off. Literally. The party was at OGA (Oregon Gymnastics Academy). There were 18 kids there, along with their parents and a few brave childless adults. The best part was the foam pit. Jon, Haley, Maggie and I went in with the kids. I could see the look of interest in a few of the other adults (Josh, Stefan, Emily) but they didn't make it in. The only thing is you have to remember to remove socks BEFORE jumping in. It's a little like quicksand and will eat your socks. Luckily, no socks were hurt in the making of this party.&lt;br /&gt;When the mayhem, uh I mean party was over, Papa and Connie took Lauren, Hayden and Audrey to the "River House". This would be Connie's son's vacation home near Battleground. Connie's granddaughter Sarah was there with her mom Pam. The kids had a wonderful time. Connie said the only problem was with Hayden. He wanted more Froot Loops. :)&lt;br /&gt;So, since the kids were gone, Josh and I decided to go to dinner. We still had Kate, but she doesn't eat so she's still a cheap date. We headed out a little after 8 and NOTHING was open. Seriously, we tried like 4 different places. We went to Safeway, bought food to make at home and then found a sushi place right next door on our way out. It was open 'til 9:30. Sweeeet. We followed our sushi dinner with a trip to Blockbuster. We found 4 previously viewed dvds. Yes, we OWN Borat now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-835380036076564466?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/835380036076564466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=835380036076564466' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/835380036076564466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/835380036076564466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/11/suburbia-sucketh.html' title='Suburbia Sucketh'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-208219795426811174</id><published>2007-11-06T08:57:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:36.524-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Jake's Blog</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RzCgirsQLhI/AAAAAAAAAKU/IuTKhyMFUEo/s1600-h/petestark.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RzCgirsQLhI/AAAAAAAAAKU/IuTKhyMFUEo/s400/petestark.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5129776493279325714" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Awhile back, I came across this blog that is written by a Marine. At the time, he was actually in Iraq. He's back in the States now, in Twenty Nine Palms but he's still writing. He's funny and well-spoken, check him out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know we all want this war to be over and for our troops to come home. My brother in law, Lucas is in Iraq at this very moment. Whether we are republican, democrat or other, we all agree that Bush is a moron. (At least I think we all agree on that). Here's a good example though of the other side of the story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jake's Blog from October 23rd: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;blockquote&gt;Stark apologizes for saying troops die for Bush's 'amusement'&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WASHINGTON (CNN) — Rep. Pete Stark, D-California, apologized Tuesday on the House floor for his recent comments saying troops in Iraq were getting "their heads blown off for the president's amusement."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not the blatant stupidity and insensitivity of this remark that is getting my blood boiling, its Starks' blanket assumption that everyone fighting in Iraq A)is a political pawn of President Bush B) doesn't know what they are fighting for C) somehow didn't volunteer for the ALL VOLUNTEER MILITARY and D) doesn't want to be over there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is right up John Kerry's alley of saying that if you don't do well in school that you'll end up stuck in Iraq. Wow. Hey, thanks for the thumbs up and high fives guys. Us dumb-shits over in Iraq really appreciate being publicly humiliated and used as political propaganda. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really hope that if, God forbid, anything were to happen to me in Iraq, that congressmen like Stark, and there are dozens of them, would have the guts to walk up to my mom and tell them that I died for the President's amusement. I think my mom would punch them in the face. I take that back, my mom is way too nice of a lady to lower herself to that standard, but maybe with luck my dog would relieve himself on the guy's $1000 tax payer funded shoes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take your apology and jump off a bridge. For my amusement.&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-208219795426811174?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/208219795426811174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=208219795426811174' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/208219795426811174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/208219795426811174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/11/jakes-blog.html' title='Jake&apos;s Blog'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RzCgirsQLhI/AAAAAAAAAKU/IuTKhyMFUEo/s72-c/petestark.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-3713825582263954051</id><published>2007-11-04T13:56:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:36.684-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Hi, I'm Sarah the Elf</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/Ry5BprsQLgI/AAAAAAAAAKM/t5nap8KiyU0/s1600-h/giftbox.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/Ry5BprsQLgI/AAAAAAAAAKM/t5nap8KiyU0/s400/giftbox.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5129109209980349954" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I was talking to Josh yesterday as we were getting ready. I was suggesting that we figure out our Christmas lists and gift ideas and get started on shopping. He basically shut me down and said that gifts are stupid. &lt;br /&gt;Well, as much as I wanted to smack him, I agree to some extent. We were talking about how dumb it is that we go out every year looking for stuff to buy for eachother and end up getting stuff just to get stuff. He's much more concerned with this whole consumerism thing than I am, but I get it. Every year, when we get home from our gift exchange extravaganza, there's a TON of little plastic stuff to find a home for as well as all the packaging to throw away. It kind of sucks, but it's something we all just accept. &lt;br /&gt;I love shopping, there's no denying it. Josh and many others don't feel the same way. It actually hinders the Christmas spirit for him. That makes me sad, like he's missing out on the giddyness I have starting the day after Thanksgiving and all through December just because he's dreading the mall.&lt;br /&gt;How 'bout a homemade Christmas next year? I know we don't have time to do it this year, but next? Huh huh huh? &lt;br /&gt;Ok, I'm stepping off my soap box now. G'Day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-3713825582263954051?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/3713825582263954051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=3713825582263954051' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/3713825582263954051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/3713825582263954051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/11/hi-im-sarah-elf.html' title='Hi, I&apos;m Sarah the Elf'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/Ry5BprsQLgI/AAAAAAAAAKM/t5nap8KiyU0/s72-c/giftbox.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-2797856094821373188</id><published>2007-11-02T17:42:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-11-02T17:43:11.373-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Stuck.</title><content type='html'>I can't leave the house because all three of my bras have puke on them. Thank you Kate.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-2797856094821373188?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/2797856094821373188/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=2797856094821373188' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/2797856094821373188'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/2797856094821373188'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/11/stuck.html' title='Stuck.'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-7550359167063991155</id><published>2007-10-25T18:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:37.089-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What's Next?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RyFChOMTddI/AAAAAAAAAKE/PHrEIn3dwO0/s1600-h/flashforcure.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RyFChOMTddI/AAAAAAAAAKE/PHrEIn3dwO0/s400/flashforcure.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125450989437154770" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Flash for the cure, really? &lt;br /&gt;Amy and I have this little game, where we point out all the ridiculous breast cancer awareness merchandise that is out on the market.  We have seen gardening supplies, dog collars, shoes, excercise &amp; sports equipment, various foods including tomato soup, all types of jewelery, and so many more. But today tops it for me. Flash drives for the cure, what a joke. &lt;br /&gt;This just happens to be the anniversary of my grandma's death, and seeing crap like this makes me want to hurt someone. I am fully supportive of finding a cure and the pink ribbon is something that I think is very important. I just wish that every single company in the world didn't think of it as a way to get people to buy their crap. &lt;br /&gt;I will purposely NOT buy these stupid flash drives, even if a need for them arises.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-7550359167063991155?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/7550359167063991155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=7550359167063991155' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/7550359167063991155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/7550359167063991155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/10/whats-next.html' title='What&apos;s Next?'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RyFChOMTddI/AAAAAAAAAKE/PHrEIn3dwO0/s72-c/flashforcure.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-3300081326254883856</id><published>2007-10-24T17:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:37.749-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Quality "Dad Time"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/Rx_uBuMTdcI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/NiE78SpWA2I/s1600-h/dadofyear.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/Rx_uBuMTdcI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/NiE78SpWA2I/s400/dadofyear.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125076614317831618" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this post is mostly for Kara. She told me I needed to post more of the funny things the kids say before I forget them. Here's a goody.&lt;br /&gt;Saturday night, I went to Emily's house with Kate and Lauren for a jewelery party. Meanwhile, Josh and Hayden were hanging out at home. &lt;br /&gt;When the kids reunited later that night, they were rehashing their time away from eachother, trying to make the other one jealous. Lauren said, "I won a free bracelet in the raffle, played with Molly and Charlotte and ate a brownie". Hayden (in his best "Hayden voice") responded with, "Yeah, well I watched Dad play a video game, watched Mythbusters, helped with the dishes and helped Dad pour beer into a metal cup". &lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/Rx_tGOMTdbI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/Aby086Vsy-k/s1600-h/flask.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/Rx_tGOMTdbI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/Aby086Vsy-k/s400/flask.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5125075592115615154" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is where I start laughing so hard I almost had to pull the car over. I called Josh to tell him what I had just heard. What Hayden had meant by "beer into a metal cup" was "whiskey into a flask". I'm so glad Hayden got to be a part of that...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-3300081326254883856?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/3300081326254883856/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=3300081326254883856' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/3300081326254883856'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/3300081326254883856'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/10/quality-dad-time.html' title='Quality &quot;Dad Time&quot;'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/Rx_uBuMTdcI/AAAAAAAAAJ8/NiE78SpWA2I/s72-c/dadofyear.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-3732735917759525391</id><published>2007-10-15T20:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:37.953-08:00</updated><title type='text'>PrinciPAL? I think not.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RxQ2q0tUC0I/AAAAAAAAAJk/nW7Sf3M7LDU/s1600-h/thbadspelling1.png"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RxQ2q0tUC0I/AAAAAAAAAJk/nW7Sf3M7LDU/s400/thbadspelling1.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121778785558203202" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was one of those days...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Josh got up with the kids and got them ready. I woke up a few minutes before they were going to leave for school and went down to help get them out the door. They left, so I came back upstairs to snuggle with the still sleeping Kate. I fell asleep nursing her, thinking this was going to be a great, peaceful day with both older kids in school. At 8:40ish, I got a call from the school. "William (Hayden's first name for those who don't know) doesn't have school today" is what the cruel receptionist tells me. So, I have to get myself and Kate dressed. We were freaking asleep! So, that sucked... &lt;br /&gt;Hayden came home and we hung out for the morning and early afternoon. It wasn't awful or anything, but he was bored and kept asking me when we would be going to get Lauren or when we were going to have lunch or any other question he could come up with. So, not peaceful.&lt;br /&gt;At about 1:30, I realized it was early release day. That means that I have to be at the school at 2:05, rather than 2:35. I was showered, but not dressed. Kate was neither. I still hadn't had any lunch, because it's kind of hard to get yourself food when you have a newborn attached to your boob all the time. So, we left to get Lauren and I hadn't eaten since 7:45 am. &lt;br /&gt;Thennnnn...I got to the school and had to circle the parking lot 3 times before finding a place to park. I sent Hayden to retrieve Lauren so I wouldn't have to get out of the car with the baby. After a few minutes, I'm starting to wonder where my children are. Just then, the principal comes up to the window and informs me that she won't let them walk all the way to the curb. I will have to drive around to get them. I wanted to hurt her. So anyway, it took me 10 minutes to get her. It ususally takes about 2.&lt;br /&gt;After that, our day was great. We spent a few hours at Emily's house. She made me coffee, God bless her. &lt;br /&gt;I am aware that this was THE lamest post in the history of posts. Oh well, you get what you get. I'll throw in a funny picture to make it better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-3732735917759525391?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/3732735917759525391/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=3732735917759525391' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/3732735917759525391'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/3732735917759525391'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/10/principal-i-think-not.html' title='PrinciPAL? I think not.'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RxQ2q0tUC0I/AAAAAAAAAJk/nW7Sf3M7LDU/s72-c/thbadspelling1.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-2561638024711116964</id><published>2007-10-12T11:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:38.162-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Furry Baby Who Barfs-Kate's Indian Name</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/Rw-_pxr6hQI/AAAAAAAAAJc/qCzMg1ku0mw/s1600-h/kateinbouncer.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/Rw-_pxr6hQI/AAAAAAAAAJc/qCzMg1ku0mw/s400/kateinbouncer.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120522025776612610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you don't already read Kara's blog (Condi-to the right), please read her latest post. It cracks me up. She and Amy came over the other night for dinner and wine, which they brought, God bless them. We had a great time just hanging out and catching up. It's been a long time since the three of us have been together. Josh was home too, which always makes for a great conversation. (He and Kara debating about something completely unimportant)My favorite part of the night is when Kara commented on how much hair Kate has and I thought she would appreciate seeing how furry her back is too. I pulled down her top so she could peer in at what I think is the most adorable thing in the universe and her response is, "that's disgugsting". I guess some people just don't dig the furriness that is Kate. &lt;br /&gt;Speaking of Kate, she just barfed down Lauren's shoulder. Hahaha. Kate barfs alot actually. At first I thought maybe she was sick or really gassy or something. I think I figured it out though. She's just an overeater like her mommy. Only instead of gaining weight, she just rejects the extra in the form of cottage cheesy spew. &lt;br /&gt;Well, today is house cleaning day. I'm finally capable of doing all the housework on my own. I sort of long for the days of hearing, "no Sarah! Don't lift that!" or "Sarah, make sure you're getting enough rest". Only problem is that along with being pathetic and incapable of doing anything, I couldn't eat sugar or coffee. So to reward myself for cleaning the house today, I'm plannig to eat cookies and drink lots of joe.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-2561638024711116964?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/2561638024711116964/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=2561638024711116964' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/2561638024711116964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/2561638024711116964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/10/furry-baby-who-barfs-kates-indian-name.html' title='Furry Baby Who Barfs-Kate&apos;s Indian Name'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/Rw-_pxr6hQI/AAAAAAAAAJc/qCzMg1ku0mw/s72-c/kateinbouncer.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-5316657804262020723</id><published>2007-10-01T20:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-01T20:42:23.509-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Update on "The Did"</title><content type='html'>It's been a week since I gave birth to the latest addition to our family. Thank you Amy for posting the picture and announcement. This is the first time I've actually had two free hands to post.&lt;br /&gt;Kate, or as my dad calls her, "The Did" as in Katydid, is awesome. She's already sleeping through most of the night, which is a little painful for a breastfeeding mom, but still lovely. I know her sleepiness won't last for too long, but I'll keep hopes high. &lt;br /&gt;We had our one week visit from the midwife today. Linda came out to our house and checked on us. Kate is back up a little from her early weight loss. When she was born, she was 7/11 and had gotten down to 7/4. Today she was back up to 7/6. Yay! &lt;br /&gt;Funny story: I found her umbilical cord stump in my bra today. Ew. I have NO idea how it got there, but I was doing laundry and looked down to see something poking through my shirt. When I first saw it, I thought it was a chunk of the granola bar I had just eaten and thought "wow, I'm fat" and then realized it was the dead hunk of tissue from my baby's belly. It must have fallen off while I was burping her and made it's way down my shirt. Anyway, it's off and she can have a real bath soon and not just the lame sponge bath I've been giving her.&lt;br /&gt;I will leave you with this image. She is wrapped up in a blanket right now, with no clothes on (she shat on them) and her hairy back is slightly exposed. Oh how I love the fur.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-5316657804262020723?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/5316657804262020723/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=5316657804262020723' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/5316657804262020723'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/5316657804262020723'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/10/update-on-did.html' title='Update on &quot;The Did&quot;'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-3339236010279611069</id><published>2007-09-24T09:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:38.375-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's a Girl!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Katherine Patricia Chilcott was born this morning at 8:20 am. She weighed in at 7 pounds 11 ounces and is 21 inches long. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;More details to come later. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RvfnZQ1d6PI/AAAAAAAAAJE/z7gCWDOX1lA/s1600-h/Kate+013.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113810323104458994" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RvfnZQ1d6PI/AAAAAAAAAJE/z7gCWDOX1lA/s400/Kate+013.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/Rvfn_w1d6RI/AAAAAAAAAJU/Bs1xm07AZSs/s1600-h/Kate+012.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/Rvfn_w1d6RI/AAAAAAAAAJU/Bs1xm07AZSs/s400/Kate+012.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113810984529422610" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-3339236010279611069?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/3339236010279611069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=3339236010279611069' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/3339236010279611069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/3339236010279611069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/09/its-girl.html' title='It&apos;s a Girl!'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RvfnZQ1d6PI/AAAAAAAAAJE/z7gCWDOX1lA/s72-c/Kate+013.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-5350195809247254713</id><published>2007-09-19T20:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:38.819-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What the hell?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RvHlde1wPlI/AAAAAAAAAI8/qaVwFZC7BfU/s1600-h/camelot.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112119346699714130" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RvHlde1wPlI/AAAAAAAAAI8/qaVwFZC7BfU/s320/camelot.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Has anyone else seen the commercial for this train wreck? It's Camelot, starring Lou Diamond Phillips. I have nothing else to say.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.broadwayla.org/Read/"&gt;http://www.broadwayla.org/Read/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-5350195809247254713?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/5350195809247254713/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=5350195809247254713' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/5350195809247254713'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/5350195809247254713'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/09/what-hell.html' title='What the hell?'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RvHlde1wPlI/AAAAAAAAAI8/qaVwFZC7BfU/s72-c/camelot.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-5594777961202283399</id><published>2007-09-18T23:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-09-19T00:01:35.442-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Comfy Kate</title><content type='html'>Still no baby. I'm sulking just a tad right now. I scrubbed the kitchen floor, bounced on my yoga ball, walked up and down the stairs far too many times and...nothing. I'm SO ready to be unpregnant. Keep those thoughts of excruciating pain coming my way. I'm prepared.&lt;br /&gt;Ok, I'm being a little dramatic, but really, I'm ready for this baby to be OUT!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-5594777961202283399?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/5594777961202283399/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=5594777961202283399' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/5594777961202283399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/5594777961202283399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/09/comfy-kate.html' title='Comfy Kate'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-4904887469536870898</id><published>2007-09-13T22:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:39.039-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Quick Baby Update</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RuokHhHe1rI/AAAAAAAAAH0/J72ablJLhCU/s1600-h/37weekbaby.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5109936438772684466" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RuokHhHe1rI/AAAAAAAAAH0/J72ablJLhCU/s320/37weekbaby.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had my in home visit with the midwives yesterday. They assured me that the baby is NOT 11 pounds as I previously thought. Thank God! Also, she's head down and engaged. Yay!!! I have been given the green light as of today to deliver any time. (before that I would have had to go to the hospital) So, the waiting game begins. Lauren was 10 days early and Hayden was a full 2 weeks early. According to that pattern, she should be here any day! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I am actually having a lot of Braxton Hicks contractions. (to those of you out of the know, they are pointless painless contractions that don't really mean anything) But today I have had a few that actually kind of hurt. Maybe by the time I start labor for real, I will already be half way! I know, wishful thinking...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, I will let everyone know as soon as she arrives! Hope it won't be long!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-4904887469536870898?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/4904887469536870898/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=4904887469536870898' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/4904887469536870898'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/4904887469536870898'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/09/quick-baby-update.html' title='Quick Baby Update'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RuokHhHe1rI/AAAAAAAAAH0/J72ablJLhCU/s72-c/37weekbaby.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-1337747372545333058</id><published>2007-09-08T22:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:39.217-08:00</updated><title type='text'>F*%K</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RuOMI2Qm1mI/AAAAAAAAAHs/6i2ZY1HSZw4/s1600-h/deadwood.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5108080486000285282" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RuOMI2Qm1mI/AAAAAAAAAHs/6i2ZY1HSZw4/s320/deadwood.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EsPYJIat0lo"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EsPYJIat0lo&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you haven't seen any episodes of Deadwood yet, this may not be the best advertisement for it. If you can't handle the "f" word, do not watch this. If you can, rock on.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-1337747372545333058?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/1337747372545333058/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=1337747372545333058' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/1337747372545333058'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/1337747372545333058'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/09/fk.html' title='F*%K'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RuOMI2Qm1mI/AAAAAAAAAHs/6i2ZY1HSZw4/s72-c/deadwood.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-3102456112995058973</id><published>2007-09-07T15:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:39.353-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pumped Up!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RuHUGGQm1lI/AAAAAAAAAHk/zASaNSD_-JU/s1600-h/basketball.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5107596653639423570" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RuHUGGQm1lI/AAAAAAAAAHk/zASaNSD_-JU/s320/basketball.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Just a quick funny for ya. I was driving home from lunch with Hayden and Josh today. When we pulled into the driveway, I started having a contraction (not a labor one, just a stupid one). I literally couldn't reach the steering wheel to turn the ignition off. My belly was too hard to lean over. Cool, huh?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Not sure why this basketball is so huge, but it's kind of fitting...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-3102456112995058973?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/3102456112995058973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=3102456112995058973' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/3102456112995058973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/3102456112995058973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/09/pumped-up.html' title='Pumped Up!!'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RuHUGGQm1lI/AAAAAAAAAHk/zASaNSD_-JU/s72-c/basketball.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-8819324302458005918</id><published>2007-08-30T16:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:39.502-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stuff &amp; Nonsense &amp; Stuff</title><content type='html'>Lauren had her classroom preview today. We got to meet her teacher and see her classroom. Unfortunately, we also got to see the creepy kid from last year. He bothers me and I don't know why. Oh well, her teacher is great and the classroom is cute. She's in the front row too, what a little teacher's pet. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a class=""&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We will find out tomorrow who Hayden's teacher is. Either of the two options will be awesome, so I'm not worried. He loves both of them and they are "fighting" for him, so he'll be happy either way.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have a grease spot on the front of my belly. Do you know how fat that makes me feel? Gross.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Speaking of fat, I'm 35 weeks today, which means I only have 2 to go until I'm safe to deliver anytime. And she FLIPPED!!! I was really starting to freak out about it. I am not really worried about the home delivery or the lack of drug availability, but I was not excited about delivering a baby that is facing the wrong direction. From what I've heard, it's pretty miserable. In fact, Heather just had her baby that way. He did flip as he was coming out, but she had to go through hours of back labor before he figured it out. And even with an epidural, she was pretty much wasted.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RtdTq2Qm1jI/AAAAAAAAAHU/gM5BaNkv5Uo/s1600-h/tumnus.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5104640698232526386" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RtdTq2Qm1jI/AAAAAAAAAHU/gM5BaNkv5Uo/s320/tumnus.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a class=""&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This picture makes me laugh every time I look at it. There's no other reason for putting it up. Yes, that's James for those who don't know already.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Right at this moment, my kids are exhibiting some very special behavior. Lauren is pretending to feed Hayden "baby food" (playdough) with an actual baby food spoon. He's making baby noises. I should stop them, but they're not talking to me and that is goooood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you haven't noticed, I'm ready for summer to be over. They're driving me crazy. Crazy? I was crazy once...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a class=""&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-8819324302458005918?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/8819324302458005918/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=8819324302458005918' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/8819324302458005918'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/8819324302458005918'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/08/stuff-nonsense-stuff.html' title='Stuff &amp; Nonsense &amp; Stuff'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RtdTq2Qm1jI/AAAAAAAAAHU/gM5BaNkv5Uo/s72-c/tumnus.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-4999255921314457986</id><published>2007-08-29T10:48:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-29T10:49:45.550-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh my.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6GRcQvEM3NU"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6GRcQvEM3NU&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is quite possibly the sickest and funniest video I've ever seen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-4999255921314457986?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/4999255921314457986/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=4999255921314457986' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/4999255921314457986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/4999255921314457986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/08/oh-my.html' title='Oh my.'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-7650668413043912390</id><published>2007-08-27T19:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:39.805-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Boycott</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RtOSOWQm1hI/AAAAAAAAAHE/5VAmU3qBeQI/s1600-h/tjs.png"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103583577931961874" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RtOSOWQm1hI/AAAAAAAAAHE/5VAmU3qBeQI/s320/tjs.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm boycotting Trader Joe's for exactly two days. I went there today and had a horrible experience. I was looking for bacon and found two packages that were open. The guy I told about it said, "oh, that isn't good" and then went and found me a good one. Nice, but still makes me wonder.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then, while we were standing in line, Hayden's chin starts randomly bleeding. Alot! He was dripping and everything. The hole that the blood was coming out of was approximately the size of a pin prick. It was like he had sprung a leak. The girl behind the counter gave us some tissue to sop it up, but it just kept bleeding. I grabbed some more tissue for the road and we left. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;As we are walking across the parking lot, Lauren accidentally trips Hayden. Down he goes, onto his knee and elbow. He's screaming like a little girl, so some nice guy comes up and offers us some wet wipes to clean him up. It was so crazy, it was actually comical.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When the chaos finally comes to an end, I get a band aid on his chin and we drive home. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;As I'm unloading the grocery bags, I pick up a pack of juice boxes, only to find that two of them have been mysteriously skewered somewhere along the way and have pooled in the bottom of the bag (luckily, they were my cool new 99 cent bags and not paper). Good Lord.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I will keep my promise to boycott for 2 days. It's going to be really easy seeing as how I wouldn't ordinarily return to the store for at least a week anyway, but it makes me feel better.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The end&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-7650668413043912390?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/7650668413043912390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=7650668413043912390' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/7650668413043912390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/7650668413043912390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/08/boycott.html' title='Boycott'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RtOSOWQm1hI/AAAAAAAAAHE/5VAmU3qBeQI/s72-c/tjs.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-2138843395327794110</id><published>2007-08-16T14:31:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:40.416-08:00</updated><title type='text'>33 Weeks Today!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RsTFIY4OMtI/AAAAAAAAAG8/1zC9cjz--1w/s1600-h/33+weekbaby.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5099417425998131922" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RsTFIY4OMtI/AAAAAAAAAG8/1zC9cjz--1w/s320/33+weekbaby.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can't believe I'm already at 33 weeks. It's crazy how fast this pregnancy has gone by. It's wierd because the date "October 4th" (my due date) sounds like it's forever away, but it's NOT! It's only 7 weeks from now. I'm starting to freak out just a tad. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;There are a few things that need to be done before this baby enters the world (not to mention exits me). One big one is that the entire house has to be clean. I don't even remember the last time the whole house was clean all at once. It was probably in the same week we moved in, almost 4 years ago.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We have to get a dresser from Sarah and Rob for the baby's clothing. She is living out of bins for now. Luckily, she doesn't need to wear clothes yet.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I really would like to have the upstairs carpets steam cleaned too, but I'm kind of incapable of doing so. I almost passed out this morning from cleaning the toilet. Too much bending over the lump in the middle of my body. Kinda takes the breath right outta ya. Josh will have to do that if he can find the time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The biggest thing though is that I need to get this baby facing the right way. I was told at my appointment last week that she is head down (thank God) but facing up, or towards my front. Since I'm delivering at home, there is no room for added pain. With posterior deliveries, there is a TON of back pain and usually takes longer to push. I don't want anything to do with either. So think thoughts of flipping for me please.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-2138843395327794110?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/2138843395327794110/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=2138843395327794110' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/2138843395327794110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/2138843395327794110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/08/33-weeks-today.html' title='33 Weeks Today!'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RsTFIY4OMtI/AAAAAAAAAG8/1zC9cjz--1w/s72-c/33+weekbaby.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-6027549946985418171</id><published>2007-08-14T15:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:41.136-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Top 5 Desert Island Movies (with electricity and stuff)</title><content type='html'>Okie dokie...so Ashley posted a blog with her top 5 desert island movies and I thought it would be fun to do the same. So, I copy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I do have one repeat too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RsIuolN7CTI/AAAAAAAAAGk/yeOKn3DUGwk/s1600-h/pulpfiction.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098689002856974642" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RsIuolN7CTI/AAAAAAAAAGk/yeOKn3DUGwk/s320/pulpfiction.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pulp Fiction&lt;/strong&gt;- one of the greatest movies ever made. As Ashley said, Tarantino can be an idiot, but mostly because he can't act worth a damn. As long as his character isn't too prominent in the movie, it's good stuff. I own this one and was just saying yesterday that it's one of the few movies I could watch just about anytime it's on. Favorite scene is when Mia Wallace dances around the living room to "Girl, You'll be a Woman Soon". Great direction and editing, her feet are dirty when she stops and puts her foot up. Very realistic. Anyway....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RsIufVN7CSI/AAAAAAAAAGc/LdLqEM3NRUU/s1600-h/lebowski.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098688843943184674" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RsIufVN7CSI/AAAAAAAAAGc/LdLqEM3NRUU/s320/lebowski.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Big Lebowski&lt;/strong&gt;- some of the funniest dialogue you'll ever hear. There are too many reasons to love this movie, but I'll just stick to one. "Don't f*$# with the Jesus".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RsIuQlN7CQI/AAAAAAAAAGM/imeSMkacJxA/s1600-h/jackskellington.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098688590540114178" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RsIuQlN7CQI/AAAAAAAAAGM/imeSMkacJxA/s320/jackskellington.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Nightmare Before Christmas&lt;/strong&gt;- beautiful movie with beautiful songs. Just the thought of this movie makes me feel good. I love the characters and the story is so original. Favorite part is when Jack comes back from Christmastown and tries to describe Christmas to his entire town. They totally don't get it, but they're so innocent and sweet about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RsIuYlN7CRI/AAAAAAAAAGU/au4Msm2ehtE/s1600-h/jakegyllenhaal.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098688727979067666" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RsIuYlN7CRI/AAAAAAAAAGU/au4Msm2ehtE/s320/jakegyllenhaal.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Donnie Darko&lt;/strong&gt;- God I love this movie. Partly because it's a really good movie, partly because it has really good music and mostly because it has Jake Gyllenhaal. Best part is when he stands up to the crazy speaker, played by Patrick Swayze, in the school auditorium. Awesome.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RsIutFN7CUI/AAAAAAAAAGs/42Hl4PCfGMI/s1600-h/breakfast+club.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5098689080166385986" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RsIutFN7CUI/AAAAAAAAAGs/42Hl4PCfGMI/s320/breakfast+club.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;The Breakfast Club&lt;/strong&gt;- oldie, but goodie. I know every freaking line to the entire movie, so I don't actually have any good reason to ever watch it again, but I could watch it right now. Ya know? Best part is when John Bender tells Brian Johnson about what his father says to him. "Stupid, worthless, no good, goddamn, freeloading son of a bitch. Retarded, big mouth, know-it-all, asshole, jerk. You forgot ugly, lazy and disrespectful. Shut up bitch. Go fix me a turkey pot pie. No dad, what about you? Fuck you. No dad, what about you? Fuck you. Dad, what about you? Fuck you." And then he dramatically punches at the air so his hair falls in his eyes. Oh yes.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So there are my top 5. What are yours?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-6027549946985418171?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/6027549946985418171/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=6027549946985418171' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/6027549946985418171'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/6027549946985418171'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/08/my-top-5-desert-island-movies-with.html' title='My Top 5 Desert Island Movies (with electricity and stuff)'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RsIuolN7CTI/AAAAAAAAAGk/yeOKn3DUGwk/s72-c/pulpfiction.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-2712542141086118886</id><published>2007-08-11T16:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:41.618-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Committee</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/Rr5H7VN7CPI/AAAAAAAAAGE/fa1a230m1v8/s1600-h/sign.bmp"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097590912863373554" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/Rr5H7VN7CPI/AAAAAAAAAGE/fa1a230m1v8/s320/sign.bmp" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's what my father in law calls my Home Owners' Association ever since they threatened to have him towed because he was "illegally parked" in front of our house for about 10 minutes. There are so many stupid rules that no one abides by, but they are still there and it pisses me off. We OWN our home.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, we have new officers now. Josh is one of them. (hahahahahaha) He got elected while we were in Seattle last month and is now the HOA secretary. It's just too funny. He will do a great job, assuming he accepts his position, but it's still funny.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last night, while the airshow fireworks were going on, I was outside talking to one of my neighbors. She was recounting the meeting we missed (the one where Josh was elected secretary...hahahahaha) and was telling me about our crazy neighbors three doors down. Apparently they have a camera on the front of their house to watch us. Us being the neighborhood, not me and Josh specifically. We were thinking of things to do to this camera. Josh's idea was to paintball it and I think we should moon it. Any more suggestions would be great. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;PS The damn crickets are chirping again. I thought they were cured of that as they hadn't made a peep in months. Stupid crickets.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/Rr5HQ1N7COI/AAAAAAAAAF8/THyinKg5TRY/s1600-h/busheatingcat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5097590182718933218" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/Rr5HQ1N7COI/AAAAAAAAAF8/THyinKg5TRY/s320/busheatingcat.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;PPS This picture just cracks me up. It has nothing to do with anything. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-2712542141086118886?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/2712542141086118886/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=2712542141086118886' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/2712542141086118886'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/2712542141086118886'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/08/committee.html' title='The Committee'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/Rr5H7VN7CPI/AAAAAAAAAGE/fa1a230m1v8/s72-c/sign.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-2849124381283826202</id><published>2007-08-04T10:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-08-04T10:07:50.548-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thriller!</title><content type='html'>&lt;blockquote&gt;You all may have seen this already, but it's worth watching again. This is what inmates should be doing in the US instead of lifting weights. Maybe it would humble them a bit. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/blockquote&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;a onclick="return top.js.OpenExtLink(window,event,this)" href="http://video.yahoo.com/video/play?vid=879021&amp;fr=yvmtf" target="_blank"&gt;http://video.yahoo.com/video/play?vid=879021&amp;amp;fr=yvmtf&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-2849124381283826202?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/2849124381283826202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=2849124381283826202' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/2849124381283826202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/2849124381283826202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/08/thriller.html' title='Thriller!'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-4571059319251672379</id><published>2007-08-02T17:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:42.181-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Body World</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RrJ611N7CMI/AAAAAAAAAFs/R2EpanRwQj8/s1600-h/skinman-256.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094269193746581698" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RrJ611N7CMI/AAAAAAAAAFs/R2EpanRwQj8/s320/skinman-256.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wow. What an experience. If you haven't already been to OMSI for the Bodyworld exhibit, go. Go now. It was amazing, to say the least.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;There were a few things that stood out for me. One was the very first piece in the exhibit, the skin man. He was a regular looking guy, about 5'9" maybe. The wierd thing was that instead of wearing his skin, he was holding it. In his hands. It looked like a skin blanket and all I could think of was that scene in Silence of the Lambs, where Buffalo Bill is wearing the skin suit from his victims.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Another thing that pretty much freaked me out was the dude who was doing the splits, in all his naked (skinless) glory and was holding his own internal organs like a trophy above his head. Hmmm, interesting.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RrJ8alN7CNI/AAAAAAAAAF0/0Vw0wGmNVNo/s1600-h/nervoussystem.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094270924618402002" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RrJ8alN7CNI/AAAAAAAAAF0/0Vw0wGmNVNo/s320/nervoussystem.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think the wierdest display was the one of the central nervous system. There's no way to accurately describe it, so I found a picture. It's not a very good one, but I promise, it was really cool.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;There was one more thing that really stood out. They had a glass box with two sets of lungs, one of a nonsmoker and one of a smoker. It showed that only 20 cigarettes a day (sounds like a lot to a nonsmoker, but that's just a pack a day) made these lungs almost completely black. The healthy ones were more of a creamy color. Right next to the display, there was a box where you could commit to quit smoking. It was almost full with business card size notes saying things like, "I will never smoke again, Dan" or "I will never try!-Jenny". There were also more than ten or so packs of cigarettes in there with the notes. Pretty moving, I thought.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;At the end of the visit, we made our way to the fetal development exhibit, which is part of the regular everyday museum, but is amazing nonetheless. Turns out, it was done by the same guy who did the bodyworld stuff. It was really cool to see a 31 week old baby, which is how far along I am right now and how far along Emily was when she delivered Molly. What a miracle, no one's going to argue with me that God had nothing to do with all of that!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, if you have a free day and $21 bucks, it's totally worth the money and time, but don't bring kids. I'm glad I didn't. I can just imagine the questions they would have for the rest of their lives about what they would have seen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-4571059319251672379?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/4571059319251672379/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=4571059319251672379' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/4571059319251672379'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/4571059319251672379'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/08/body-world.html' title='Body World'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RrJ611N7CMI/AAAAAAAAAFs/R2EpanRwQj8/s72-c/skinman-256.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-400511056901735476</id><published>2007-07-19T09:27:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:42.316-08:00</updated><title type='text'>No Impact Man</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/Rp-T4oQRBYI/AAAAAAAAAFk/tIFoMoJMjmM/s1600-h/noimpactfam.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5088948705039549826" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/Rp-T4oQRBYI/AAAAAAAAAFk/tIFoMoJMjmM/s320/noimpactfam.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Saw something cool last night on tv, which is a rare occurence as most of tv is a waste of time and brain power. There was a special report on Nightline about this family who has decided to do an experiment for an entire year to see if they can live without making any or as little as possible of a footprint on the earth. This means NO electricity in their small New York apartment and no cars or public transportation. They ride their scooters (foot powered) and walk everywhere, including up many flights of stairs. See, elevators use electricity... Laundry involves them and their little girl, about 3 years old, stomping on the dirty clothes in the bathtub. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The hardest part for me to fathom is that they don't throw any trash away! They only buy things that come in reusable jars or without packaging. And with no refrigerator, they spend a heck of a lot of time at their local farmers' market, filling their reusable canvas bags.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It was really neat to see people with such a strong conviction to make a difference. I wish I could be that brave. There's no way I could do something that extreme. I'm already the crazy hippie in the family, like that wouldn't freak 'em out...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, here's a link to his blog. There's a lot more to the story, but you should read it for yourself if you are so inspired. &lt;a href="http://noimpactman.typepad.com/blog/"&gt;http://noimpactman.typepad.com/blog/&lt;/a&gt; What do you think?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-400511056901735476?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/400511056901735476/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=400511056901735476' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/400511056901735476'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/400511056901735476'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/07/no-impact-man.html' title='No Impact Man'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/Rp-T4oQRBYI/AAAAAAAAAFk/tIFoMoJMjmM/s72-c/noimpactfam.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-4766760910897556212</id><published>2007-07-11T11:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:42.576-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Freaky-ass Moths</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RpUkx8BaweI/AAAAAAAAAFc/RCulEpP7xoU/s1600-h/moths.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5086011794529108450" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RpUkx8BaweI/AAAAAAAAAFc/RCulEpP7xoU/s320/moths.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last night, in the unbearable heat, we decided to go to the second movie of the day. Earlier yesterday morning, we joined our neighbors at the free kids movie at the Movies on TV theater. Monster House, which we've seen numerous times, was still hilarious. After going to lunch and making a bunch of Avon runs, we hooked up with Sarah and Audrey at the St. John's Theater to see Ratatouille. It was WONDERFUL. I love heeem, the rat that is. I would totally have a rat like that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When the movie was over, it was still incredibly hot, so we meandered over to the Thompsons' house for some backyard kiddie pool action. The kids stripped down to undies and splashed while Sarah and I sat and laughed at Jack. He was eating/gulping down rice cereal and broccoli. Good thing he doesn't know how disgusting that is.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So...we left St. John's around 8:30 and made our way home. When we hit the bottom of Germantown, we realized we were in some sort of plague. The bugs were hitting our windshield so fast and furiously that it sounded like rain. I actually had to use my windshield wipers in order to see. When we got home, I ushered the kids inside as fast as I could, to avoid eating the bugs in the air. Josh was sitting at the table when we flung the door open. I said, "there's a plague outside, keep the doors shut". He wasn't really all that worried, but he's a boy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;At 5:45 this morning (I know) Hayden came running into my room yelling that there were 4 HUGE moths in the hallway. Come to find out, he's not the best with numbers...there were approximately 25 dead moths on the floor throughout my bedroom and the hallway. Ew. The worst part is that I'm not allowed to lift anything heavy, the vacuum included. I can't even suck the little buggers up because the vacuum is downstairs and the corpses are up. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-4766760910897556212?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/4766760910897556212/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=4766760910897556212' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/4766760910897556212'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/4766760910897556212'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/07/freaky-ass-moths.html' title='Freaky-ass Moths'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RpUkx8BaweI/AAAAAAAAAFc/RCulEpP7xoU/s72-c/moths.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-7353805870558129575</id><published>2007-07-02T20:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:42.720-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Couch.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/Rom8dcBawdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/tgbP7oknMa4/s1600-h/villasectional.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5082800868388684242" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/Rom8dcBawdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/tgbP7oknMa4/s320/villasectional.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ok, here is the cowgirl red couch.  I of course wouldn't have those nasty ass black pillows or the ugly glass table or rug. I'm thinking red and white striped pillows or something of that nature. Also, a cream rug and no coffee table. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;It's really comfy and big enough for Josh to lay out on all the way. (something us shorties don't have to think about. He doesn't fit on either of our couches now.)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;That being said...Whaddya think?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-7353805870558129575?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/7353805870558129575/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=7353805870558129575' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/7353805870558129575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/7353805870558129575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/07/couch.html' title='The Couch.'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/Rom8dcBawdI/AAAAAAAAAFU/tgbP7oknMa4/s72-c/villasectional.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-6435465821021082757</id><published>2007-06-30T21:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:42.880-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Some Pig</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/Rocp_MBawcI/AAAAAAAAAFM/jJ2tVhiJplY/s1600-h/radiant.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5082076870046564802" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/Rocp_MBawcI/AAAAAAAAAFM/jJ2tVhiJplY/s320/radiant.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Ah, pregnancy. I saw this cartoon right after nearly peeing in my pants from sneezing. Yes, I felt radiant. Funny thing is, I seem to remember that Charlotte spun the word "radiant" over Wilbur in Charlotte's Web. Fitting.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;We spent most of the day today searching for furniture. We found the perfect leather sectional at Dania. Only problem is the colors. They offer it in black and red. I LOVE love love the red, but Josh isn't sure. He's kinda freaked about a red couch, understandably (did I just make up that word?). We both agree that a black leather couch makes a statment we don't want to make. We'll see what happens.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;In the earlier parts of the day, we went to Jackson's first birthday party at the skate park. He thoroughly enjoyed his chocolate cake with chocolate frosting. He was actually shaking and flapping his arms. At one point, he just leaned forward and started eating it off the high chair tray.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; Before that, we went to a "not so secret shop" at a Fred Meyer in Portland. We met up with some uber hippies and learned about genetically engineered foods. They split us up into groups and had us fill a basket with items we would usually buy. Then we regrouped in the wine section and found out how terrible the ingredients in those foods are. It was kind of eye opening to see that even the things I thought were safe might not be. It was also fun to go pretend shopping with Josh and Aaron.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Lauren's BFF Lili is spending the night tonight. They are currently dressed up in the gawdiest dress up Lauren owns. There is a lot of toulle and sequin action going on. I'm just waiting for the lip gloss to come out. Silly girls. :)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Josh and Hayden are watching Lonesome Dove on tv. Hayden just told Josh that he really likes cowboy movies and then asked if there was going to be any shooting in it. So cute.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-6435465821021082757?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/6435465821021082757/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=6435465821021082757' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/6435465821021082757'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/6435465821021082757'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/06/some-pig.html' title='Some Pig'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/Rocp_MBawcI/AAAAAAAAAFM/jJ2tVhiJplY/s72-c/radiant.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-3589608352324872518</id><published>2007-06-16T11:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:43.077-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Whidbey Island</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RnQ1BdlpsGI/AAAAAAAAAFE/U4hsUBMvOt0/s1600-h/whidbeyroom.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5076740979192082530" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RnQ1BdlpsGI/AAAAAAAAAFE/U4hsUBMvOt0/s320/whidbeyroom.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We are on VACATION!!! I know, I'm sitting here on my laptop on vacation. To my defense, so are James and Scott. We are all sitting in the living room geeking out. Earlier, it was Josh, Dad and Jon. Hilarious, I must say.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This house is unbelievable. There are 7 bedrooms and 4 bathrooms. 4 floors of beautifully furnished and decorated luxury. I sound like an ad, but it's true. Every year, our family vacation gets a little better. And that's saying alot because the first one was a cruise, the second one was Leavenworth and last year was Lincoln City. The cruise was spectacular. Leavenworth was magical. Lincoln City was frightening out of my mind. But that was just the threat of the ocean coming in through the windows. The house was incredible and we had a really good time. This year has somehow managed to be the most breathtaking place we've gone. We are literally ON the water, (but not the ocean) overlooking a beautiful bay. There's a pool table in the house, a hot tub on one of the 4 decks and flat screen tvs in every room. The bathrooms are even gorgeous. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh yes, this will be a goooood week.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;PS The picture is of mine and Josh's bedroom. Jealous?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-3589608352324872518?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/3589608352324872518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=3589608352324872518' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/3589608352324872518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/3589608352324872518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/06/whidbey-island.html' title='Whidbey Island'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RnQ1BdlpsGI/AAAAAAAAAFE/U4hsUBMvOt0/s72-c/whidbeyroom.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-9205166486980187502</id><published>2007-06-12T21:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-12T21:38:17.114-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pencil Man!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onclick="return top.js.OpenExtLink(window,event,this)" href="http://video.yahoo.com/video/play?vid=531504&amp;fr=yvmtf" target="_blank"&gt;http://video.yahoo.com/video/play?vid=531504&amp;amp;fr=yvmtf&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go here. It's really cute.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-9205166486980187502?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/9205166486980187502/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=9205166486980187502' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/9205166486980187502'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/9205166486980187502'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/06/pencil-man.html' title='Pencil Man!'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-2242442489704929283</id><published>2007-06-08T09:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:43.407-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Duh!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RmmtTtlpsFI/AAAAAAAAAE8/l5mzK3PU9AI/s1600-h/gradhat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073777009376211026" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RmmtTtlpsFI/AAAAAAAAAE8/l5mzK3PU9AI/s320/gradhat.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ok, so I really couldn't feel more dumb. Yesterday was Lauren's last day of school, or so I thought. I went to pick her up, all ready to hug her and congratulate her for finishing Kindergarten. I saw her teacher standing there, looking tired and I said, "you must be relieved". She said, "why?" so I said, "because you're done!" She said, "well we still have one more day in the classroom and then field day on Thursday. Did you think it was the last day?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yes, yes I did... I don't know where exactly the lines got crossed, but they did, and I'm dumb. So next week is the big day. Tuesday, she has school, then Thursday they have an optional field day. Not a clue what that means, but I'm sure she's going. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's kinda bumming me out because I thought I was done getting up at the crack of dawn to get her out the door. We are also leaving for our vacation next Friday and I was really looking forward to not being rushed to get packed and ready. Oh well, it will make this vacation even more relaxing. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, wish us luck on the next 48 hours. It's going to be a whirlwind, but it will be so worth it! Congratulations to Haley and Andrew on graduating from highschool!!! We are all so proud!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-2242442489704929283?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/2242442489704929283/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=2242442489704929283' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/2242442489704929283'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/2242442489704929283'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/06/duh.html' title='Duh!'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RmmtTtlpsFI/AAAAAAAAAE8/l5mzK3PU9AI/s72-c/gradhat.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-1415369236301024668</id><published>2007-06-04T03:53:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:43.512-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sleepless in Hillsboro</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RmPxc5nfSoI/AAAAAAAAAE0/pWyyCzmzfHk/s1600-h/freecat1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5072163084154391170" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RmPxc5nfSoI/AAAAAAAAAE0/pWyyCzmzfHk/s320/freecat1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's almost 4 am and I've been wide awake for about an hour now. I woke up crying and shaking, my heart pounding out of my chest from a dream. I won't go into the details of the dream, but I assure you that an hour later, it's still freaking me out. I feel like a little kid, afraid to go back to sleep because I know I'll just see those images again. Ugh.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So I've been catching up on emails, reading all the "latest" on myspace and browsing baby stuff online. I'm thinking I should get back in bed now. The alarm is set for 7am and I've got a busy day ahead of me. Both kids have school and I have to clean the house and shop for a party tonight. Ta ta.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The picture has nothing to do with the post. I just needed to share how freaking genius it is.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-1415369236301024668?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/1415369236301024668/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=1415369236301024668' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/1415369236301024668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/1415369236301024668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/06/sleepless-in-hillsboro.html' title='Sleepless in Hillsboro'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RmPxc5nfSoI/AAAAAAAAAE0/pWyyCzmzfHk/s72-c/freecat1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-8767943719009947969</id><published>2007-05-29T15:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-29T15:12:14.022-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Africa Hot</title><content type='html'>It's really freakin' hot today. We got the dumpster delivered to our house today so I really should be outside working in the yard. I refuse.&lt;br /&gt;That's all I have for you today. Too hot.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-8767943719009947969?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/8767943719009947969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=8767943719009947969' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/8767943719009947969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/8767943719009947969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/05/africa-hot.html' title='Africa Hot'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-5381427406569602506</id><published>2007-05-23T23:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:44.029-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's a Girl!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RlUvsJnfSnI/AAAAAAAAAEs/K_1h9Vr02yI/s1600-h/notaboy.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5068009391217658482" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RlUvsJnfSnI/AAAAAAAAAEs/K_1h9Vr02yI/s320/notaboy.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I realized that I hadn't shared my news with every single person in the universe yet. We're having a girl! Our ultrasound was two weeks ago and the guy confirmed that we don't make good guesses. We were convinced it was a boy, had started calling "it" by the name we had for a boy. Josh would ask me a few times a day how the boy was doing and without hesitation, I would say that he was doing great. I apologize to my sweet unborn baby girl. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;If I was a computer whiz and happened to have access to a scanner, I would post a picture of the ultrasound. Let me assure you that it's a good 'un. She's precious, even in black and white.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last night was Hayden's last teeball game. I already miss it. He was so freakin' cute too. Both sets of grandparents showed up for the game. We were all cheering for him at one point while he was running from third to home. I wish I had been able to capture the look on his face at that moment. It was pure determination. He was running so hard and then did the single lamest slide I've ever seen. He landed directly on his butt with absolutely no sliding. When he stood up, he was so proud and wouldn't smile at us. He was all business, it was fantastic.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-5381427406569602506?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/5381427406569602506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=5381427406569602506' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/5381427406569602506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/5381427406569602506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/05/its-girl.html' title='It&apos;s a Girl!!'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RlUvsJnfSnI/AAAAAAAAAEs/K_1h9Vr02yI/s72-c/notaboy.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-4343849113981657662</id><published>2007-05-18T22:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:44.298-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Oregonians, Here is Your Challenge</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/Rk6KapnfSmI/AAAAAAAAAEk/-hWJuJA17zM/s1600-h/desert.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5066138821291100770" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/Rk6KapnfSmI/AAAAAAAAAEk/-hWJuJA17zM/s320/desert.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Fabulous! I am loving this blogger thing more every day. I started blogging because I would tell Amy funny things that the kids said or did and she would repeatedly tell me that I needed to write it down, specifically in a blog. I assumed she would be the only one reading it. Now it is so much more than that. There are people who I talk to more on this blog than in "real" life. It's such a brilliant way to keep in touch. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I got a myspace message from my cousin Nikki today. She started her own blog (see Nikki Troll at right). Nikki lives in Arizona **tear** with her husband and son. We haven't actually seen each other in years, but she reads all of our blogs to keep up with our daily/weekly/monthly goings on. She has told me several times how cool it is to check in on us all. I am so excited to do the same with her. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now is where the challenge comes in...people of Oregon, you are commanded to lure Nikki to move here. She is weak, I know it. They will cave eventually. I sure as hell am not moving to Arizona, that is all I can say, so the only other choice is to get her here. The next step (I am way ahead of myself) is to get her brother John to move here too. Okay, go.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, and in case you're wondering what the picture is, it's my first suggestion to Nikki. This is the desert, Oregon is much prettier. :)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-4343849113981657662?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/4343849113981657662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=4343849113981657662' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/4343849113981657662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/4343849113981657662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/05/oregonians-here-is-your-challenge.html' title='Oregonians, Here is Your Challenge'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/Rk6KapnfSmI/AAAAAAAAAEk/-hWJuJA17zM/s72-c/desert.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-2327440259539116944</id><published>2007-05-08T22:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:44.698-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Poop Hole</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RkFd-7R-PgI/AAAAAAAAAEU/7ONWwZzj3Qs/s1600-h/poophole.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5062430791787494914" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RkFd-7R-PgI/AAAAAAAAAEU/7ONWwZzj3Qs/s320/poophole.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yeah, I know what you're thinking. Poop hole? Sarah's gone mad. Nope, that's just what Lauren and Hayden call our new toy. Well, it's not really a toy, but it is pretty cool. We ordered a Doggie Dooley Toilet 3500. Sounds pretty nifty, eh? It's a plastic bucket you bury in a hole in your lawn. (See diagram 1)The hinged lid pops up with your foot and you insert the dog poop. Then you add water and this crazy enzyme mixture that is supposed to turn the poop into liquid so it can seep out into your grass. Gross, huh? I can't wait to use it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So on that same note, we're finally working on the backyard. This Saturday we are having the truck deliver our cement for the patio. It's going to look so nice. Then we will put down sod around the patio as soon as the cement is dry and ready to walk on. Party at our house as soon as the project is complete! We will have a backyard!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, I have some really important stuff to take care of now. I HAVE to watch some Entourage before falling asleep. I know, poor me, right? I do so much for the greater good.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RkFd-7R-PhI/AAAAAAAAAEc/2qpvN9okw2s/s1600-h/Backyardigans.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5062430791787494930" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RkFd-7R-PhI/AAAAAAAAAEc/2qpvN9okw2s/s320/Backyardigans.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, and this is a picture of the Backyardigans, from Nick Jr. They are just damn cute and fit with the backyard theme. The pink one is named Uniqua. Oh yeah.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-2327440259539116944?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/2327440259539116944/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=2327440259539116944' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/2327440259539116944'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/2327440259539116944'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/05/poop-hole.html' title='Poop Hole'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RkFd-7R-PgI/AAAAAAAAAEU/7ONWwZzj3Qs/s72-c/poophole.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-162426257733376988</id><published>2007-05-08T00:21:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:44.945-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Notpron is the Devil</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RkAnarR-PfI/AAAAAAAAAEM/wzyGEaiuVa0/s1600-h/notpron.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5062089320412626418" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RkAnarR-PfI/AAAAAAAAAEM/wzyGEaiuVa0/s320/notpron.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So if you haven't already read it on Jon's blog, go here: &lt;a href="http://www.notpron.com"&gt;www.notpron.com&lt;/a&gt;. You will waste time, I guarantee it. I am on level 11 and just about ready to have a stroke. It makes me feel dumber than ever. (I'm aware that dumber isn't a word)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Aside from that, today was a good day. I saw a good friend who I haven't hung out with in FAR too long. We had lunch at Juan Colorado's and then came back to my house to catch up. It was good to see her and I will be sure to keep in better touch.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My baby sister, who's not a baby, had a softball game today. When she was up at bat, the freakin' pitcher nailed her right in the thumb. I know deep down that that girl was out to get her. She's a meanie. Anyway, her thumb nail ripped off and she may have broken something. No good, her last game is this Friday. After that, she will join the ranks in the unathletic post high school group. (me) I can't believe she's graduating in a month. It reminds me of how long I've been out of school and that makes me feel ANCIENT. Oh well, so is the circle of life. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sorry this was the LAMEST blog entry yet. I have nothing funny to say. Except for this: What's the difference between a musical instrument and a fish? You can't tuna fish. (Thank you Trader Joe's juice box)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-162426257733376988?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/162426257733376988/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=162426257733376988' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/162426257733376988'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/162426257733376988'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/05/notpron-is-devil.html' title='Notpron is the Devil'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RkAnarR-PfI/AAAAAAAAAEM/wzyGEaiuVa0/s72-c/notpron.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-6327165584732961453</id><published>2007-04-28T20:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-28T20:56:58.796-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Creepiness</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4Oij377lgzs"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4Oij377lgzs&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You've probably seen this, but I randomly got it stuck in my head the other night and it won't go away.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, it's funny.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-6327165584732961453?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/6327165584732961453/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=6327165584732961453' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/6327165584732961453'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/6327165584732961453'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/04/creepiness.html' title='Creepiness'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-1947296218600851568</id><published>2007-04-25T20:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:45.092-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Kicks!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RjAmILR-PeI/AAAAAAAAAEE/NiwzxCZC9NY/s1600-h/uglybaby.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5057584303446048226" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RjAmILR-PeI/AAAAAAAAAEE/NiwzxCZC9NY/s320/uglybaby.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I felt the baby move last night. It was for sure the baby this time. About a week or so ago, I felt something, but it turns out it was probably just gas. Attractive, eh? Seriously, pregnancy causes a ridiculous and almost inhuman amount of gas, so it's easy to mistake a pending fart for your baby. But it really was the little soccer player this time and it was really cool. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today was my prenatal appointment too. We got to hear the heartbeat again, only much louder and clearer this time. The kids and my mom came with me. It was awesome to have her there and the kids really got a kick out of hearing "their" baby. They promptly lost any sort of interest and went into the hallway to color. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;While we were in the appointment, the midwife suggested showing some kind of book or video to the kids to prepare them for the birth. She gave me a dvd and book combo that shows some incredibly wierd pictures. One has a little boy, about 5ish with his head under his mom's butt, apparently awaiting his new brother. I don't want anyone's head that close to my butt. Ever.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think when the time comes, we will just play it by ear and see if the kids are allowed in the room during the actual birth. They will probably be much happier downstairs with my dad, brother and other banished men anyway.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;PS The picture is the ugliest baby on the planet. Thank God it's only a cartoon.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-1947296218600851568?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/1947296218600851568/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=1947296218600851568' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/1947296218600851568'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/1947296218600851568'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/04/kicks.html' title='Kicks!'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RjAmILR-PeI/AAAAAAAAAEE/NiwzxCZC9NY/s72-c/uglybaby.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-1512932127471759295</id><published>2007-04-23T08:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:45.159-08:00</updated><title type='text'>What a Weekend!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/Riza-E30pLI/AAAAAAAAAD8/ZpbwWU4qbx8/s1600-h/stewie_tn.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5056657241624847538" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/Riza-E30pLI/AAAAAAAAAD8/ZpbwWU4qbx8/s320/stewie_tn.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We had Molly for the weekend. I love her so much and she is one of the funniest kids I've ever known. That being said, she is almost 2 and you probably know what that means. She's bipolar. I remember when Lauren was that age, she would go from happy and smiling to screaming and throwing things in a matter of 2 seconds, with absolutely no provoking. It really is pretty humorous after the initial shock. It was a good weekend for us, a constant reminder of where we'll be in about 2 years. Whew, we're starting all over again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have to give Molly some credit though, we made her go go go all weekend. We started out Friday night by being the responsible adults we know we can be. She had a wholesome dinner, a bath and was in bed by 8pm. Yes, that is the way you are SUPPOSED to take care of a toddler. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Saturday morning, it all turned to crap. We had to have Hayden at his game to warm up by 10:30am. Josh took him, while I got the girls ready and headed to the store to buy a birthday gift for Lauren's classmate. We somehow made it to the game, present in the car, by 11:20. We then headed to Chipotle for lunch with Josh's parents and then directly to the birthday party, arriving only 20 minutes late. Molly did really well at the party, playing with all the 6 year olds and eating cake. When she'd had enough, we went home. She took a 2 1/2 hour nap and then we were off again! The kids spent the night with Josh's family and we stayed there for pizza. She didn't get to bed until almost 10 that night, poor baby. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;So besides the random aversion to Josh, the crayon on the back of my couch and the cheerios and milk all over the floor, we had a pretty good weekend! But it's nice to be back to our "quiet" house again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-1512932127471759295?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/1512932127471759295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=1512932127471759295' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/1512932127471759295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/1512932127471759295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/04/what-weekend.html' title='What a Weekend!'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/Riza-E30pLI/AAAAAAAAAD8/ZpbwWU4qbx8/s72-c/stewie_tn.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-8417049382062488120</id><published>2007-04-20T21:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:45.319-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mmm, botulism anyone?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RimaIU30pKI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9PMIb-8rjNE/s1600-h/chickensandwich.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055741524532569250" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RimaIU30pKI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9PMIb-8rjNE/s320/chickensandwich.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, I have a funny story. You may not think it's funny, but I do. And that's all that really matters.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was making enchiladas for dinner the other night, which really didn't sound good to me, but hey, it's food. We were waiting patiently for it to finish cooking when I get the wierdest phone call I've ever received. My neighbor, who I've only spoken to a few times and I didn't know she had my phone number...called. She was calling to offer me her leftover chicken wings. I thought it was strange, but kind of nice. She said she was going to just toss them if I didn't want them, so I said, "I'll take 'em!" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I went over to her house to retrieve my leftover wings. When she opened the door, I noticed that she has absolutely NO furniture in her house. There was a gigantic computer desk and a dining room table, that's it. But what was wierder is that she didn't give me cooked chicken, but a plasic bag full of RAW chicken wings, skin and tips intact. Ewwwwwww.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I didn't want to waste them, so I went home and made a really yummy marinade and let them soak for the next 24 hours. It made a sweet dinner for the next night, but I was pretty sure we were all going to die from some freaky chicken disease. We didn't.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-8417049382062488120?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/8417049382062488120/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=8417049382062488120' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/8417049382062488120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/8417049382062488120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/04/mmm-botulism-anyone.html' title='Mmm, botulism anyone?'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RimaIU30pKI/AAAAAAAAAD0/9PMIb-8rjNE/s72-c/chickensandwich.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-6199194023486278355</id><published>2007-04-17T14:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:45.546-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Deep Thoughts to Doughnuts</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RiVAUyHlQDI/AAAAAAAAADs/jWR1cLbRd_w/s1600-h/hitlerteapot.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054516882588385330" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RiVAUyHlQDI/AAAAAAAAADs/jWR1cLbRd_w/s320/hitlerteapot.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last night, we watched an incredibly well done and entirely disturbing movie. It's called "Downfall" and it's the story of Hitler's last days told by his personal secretary. It's in German, with English subtitles, so watching it with my glasses was a little hard. (old prescription) But I really do recommend the movie. It actually had me crying. I don't cry in movies, ever. There is a scene towards the end where everyone is pretty much desperate. The Russians are just around the corner and the Germans have no way out. Hitler and close friends and associates have hunkered down in a bunker under Berlin, planning to kill themselves if the Germans lose. They all pretty much deserve what's coming to them, but there is a woman with her 5 children with them. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just kept thinking about how wierd it is to me for someone to commit suicide for honor. I don't really get it. I always think about that when watching something to do with Samurai too. It seems so pathetic, rather than honorable to shoot yourself in the head to get out of having to deal with what you're up against. Basically, these are my deep thoughts for the day. There, I'm going to have another doughnut. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;PS. The picture is a genuine Hitler Teapot. Wow.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-6199194023486278355?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/6199194023486278355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=6199194023486278355' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/6199194023486278355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/6199194023486278355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/04/deep-thoughts-to-doughnuts.html' title='Deep Thoughts to Doughnuts'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RiVAUyHlQDI/AAAAAAAAADs/jWR1cLbRd_w/s72-c/hitlerteapot.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-6104026447196994338</id><published>2007-04-16T13:29:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:45.738-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Educational Programming</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RiPgVCHlQCI/AAAAAAAAADk/JvCU6GWjgz0/s1600-h/imageSnook.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5054129858790375458" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RiPgVCHlQCI/AAAAAAAAADk/JvCU6GWjgz0/s320/imageSnook.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;For any of you who have children, you probably know what I'm talking about when I say that there is nothing good left for kids to watch. I'm not particularly worried about it being appropriate for them, I let my kids watch Nacho Libre, Napoleon Dynamite, Wayne's World and School of Rock over and over again. What I am worried about is the subliminal messages coming from the shows on OPB. You know, the ones they are supposed to be watching? For example, there's a show called "Big Big World" on at 10am (I think). It's a freakshow I tell you. The main character is a sloth named Snook with the voice of someone who sounds suspiciously like Keanu Reeves. He sounds high and talks about how slowly he moves throughout the whole show. Then there's an egomaniac bird named Birdette (yes, very original) who constantly talks about how beautiful she is. Ugh, and I thought Barney was evil. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The only show left with any worth is "Jakers". If you haven't seen it yet, make a date some weekday morning to watch it. It cracks me up. It's about a bunch of little kids who happen to be a bull, a duck and a pig. Yeah, that's a likely grouping. Anyway, they all happen to be Scottish too. Hilarious.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;On a completely unrelated note, Lauren is pretty sure she's been part of a major crime scene investigation. She keeps telling Hayden about the "cops" at Nordstrom Rack. We were shoe shopping during Hayden's class today. As we were getting into the car we saw about 5 or 6 police cars pull up with their lights on and a bunch of German Shepherd wielding cops jumped out. It was pretty obvious that some serious crap was going down. I assured her that they had it under control, but she wanted me to "speed away" as she put it. So I did. It wasn't like there were any cops available to pull me over anyway. She got a kick out of it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-6104026447196994338?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/6104026447196994338/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=6104026447196994338' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/6104026447196994338'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/6104026447196994338'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/04/educational-programming.html' title='Educational Programming'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RiPgVCHlQCI/AAAAAAAAADk/JvCU6GWjgz0/s72-c/imageSnook.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-817281122957470992</id><published>2007-04-15T19:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:45.914-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Play Ball!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RiLoNSHlQBI/AAAAAAAAADc/FLA-0n5bqEY/s1600-h/baseball+guy.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5053857046762700818" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RiLoNSHlQBI/AAAAAAAAADc/FLA-0n5bqEY/s320/baseball+guy.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's been awhile since my last post. I'd love to tell you that I've had a lot of interesting things going on and that I have so much to fill you all in on. I don't, not really. What has been keeping me from my blogging is the softball/teeball that is taking over my life. Hayden and Lauren are playing and there are 4 games/practices to take them to (and stay at) every week. It's a little much but it's so worth it to see them out there playing baseball. It's freaking adorable.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And since I know you're dying to know about how my pregnancy is going, who isn't? Oh, well since you asked...it's going great! I am not sick anymore, which is definitely a relief. I have my appetite back, only it's for the wierdest crap. I went into Albertson's tonight to pick up something for dinner and came out with (no, I'm not kidding) 2 Totino's pizzas, 2 tubes of Pringles, a block of Tillamook cheese, a box of granola bars and a lb of butter. Josh just looked at me and didn't say a thing. We are having mac n' cheese and pizzas for dinner tonight. It won't kill us.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;That is all I have to say about that. Yeah, you can call me Forest, Forest Gump.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-817281122957470992?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/817281122957470992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=817281122957470992' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/817281122957470992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/817281122957470992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/04/play-ball.html' title='Play Ball!'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RiLoNSHlQBI/AAAAAAAAADc/FLA-0n5bqEY/s72-c/baseball+guy.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-6881961517635579808</id><published>2007-03-28T16:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:46.015-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Alive!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/Rgr5CZ8SPBI/AAAAAAAAADQ/YiyysAPzccM/s1600-h/peach.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5047120152140856338" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/Rgr5CZ8SPBI/AAAAAAAAADQ/YiyysAPzccM/s320/peach.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Swishashwishaswhisha...that's what we heard yesterday. That would be the sound of the baby's heartbeat. What an awesome thing, even if it did take about 5 minutes to finally hear it. I was starting to get really nervous when she found the little sucker at last. That little sucker is approximately the size of a peach now, for those of you who gave me crap about the food comparisons. Food is all I can think about, so it's fitting.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;All in all, our first appointment was great. The midwives are very nice and knowledgable. I feel just as safe, if not more so, than I did with my previous pregnancies. This whole crazy thing should be fun! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;On another, completely unrelated note, we are going to see Allison Krauss and the Union Station at the Edgefield in July! Weee! I really like them, but Josh is freaking in love with her. He told me he's so excited he thinks he might pee. I really hope he doesn't. We are going with my parents and hopefully James and Ashley. We're going to spend the night too, I can't wait! I told them I will be their designated walker, since we won't have to drive anywhere. Ashley said I will be responsible for making sure she walks in a semi-straight line. It's good to have purpose.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-6881961517635579808?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/6881961517635579808/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=6881961517635579808' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/6881961517635579808'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/6881961517635579808'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/03/its-alive.html' title='It&apos;s Alive!!'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/Rgr5CZ8SPBI/AAAAAAAAADQ/YiyysAPzccM/s72-c/peach.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-6525087200288831736</id><published>2007-03-20T15:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:46.143-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Sap Alert...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RgBmHD-uPjI/AAAAAAAAADI/Ulr9gFOFpiM/s1600-h/kleenex.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5044143854168456754" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RgBmHD-uPjI/AAAAAAAAADI/Ulr9gFOFpiM/s320/kleenex.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I had a really wierd day yesterday. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;A very good friend of mine is going through a divorce. Her bastard "husband" was unfaithful to her and makes a very good case for castration. He was a friend of mine and Josh's as well as just her husband so on some level (small in comparison) it affected us all. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yesterday, I helped my friend get the rest of her things from their house. She's been moved out for about a year and this was the first time she'd been back or seen him. She asked me to go with her because he wanted to be there when she came over. It was awful. I'm glad I was able to help in some way because I can't even imagine the kind of pit she had in her stomache if mine was as bad as it was. We got there and he acted like nothing had happened. I wanted to kick him in the nuts and scream at him, "You ruined everything!" But I didn't and I tried to make small talk with him while she figured out just what she was taking with her. When I noticed that she wasn't holding up very well, it really hit me just what we were doing there and I felt like I was going to puke. I managed to hold it together until I got in the car and then started sobbing. Luckily I was alone and she never saw me cry. I called Josh just to tell him how much I love him and how lucky I am to have him. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know, nothing amusing in here today. Just had to get that out and hopefully inspire you guys to be good to eachother. Or I will come after you...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-6525087200288831736?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/6525087200288831736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=6525087200288831736' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/6525087200288831736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/6525087200288831736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/03/sap-alert.html' title='Sap Alert...'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RgBmHD-uPjI/AAAAAAAAADI/Ulr9gFOFpiM/s72-c/kleenex.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-1655726995191492570</id><published>2007-03-10T00:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:46.660-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chocolate Cake and Some Penguins</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;  &lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RfJqV7Ey0NI/AAAAAAAAADA/3hPGrboOAG8/s1600-h/penguin.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5040207857848602834" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RfJqV7Ey0NI/AAAAAAAAADA/3hPGrboOAG8/s320/penguin.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Amy and I took the kids to see Happy Feet at the Grand Lodge tonight. It was fantastic. The movie was cute and all, but what I'm referring to is the food we ate. You're probably thinking tots, beer, all the typical McMenamins yumminess. But nooooo, we (Amy) smuggled in 4 slices of chocolate cake, complete with 4 plastic plates and forks. Looking down the table at my sweet little girl eating illegal cake was pretty funny. Every time one of the servers would come in with someone's food, I would get all nervous and look around. I finally realized they don't care. They were all guys first of all and probably didn't notice in the first place. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RfJqV7Ey0NI/AAAAAAAAADA/3hPGrboOAG8/s1600-h/penguin.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RfJqP7Ey0MI/AAAAAAAAAC4/P5oXnImOpas/s1600-h/choccake.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5040207754769387714" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RfJqP7Ey0MI/AAAAAAAAAC4/P5oXnImOpas/s320/choccake.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When we got home from the movie, I had a surprise for Amy. I had starved my frog for two days so he would eat a cricket for her. She has been waiting since we got him to see the killing take place. It took a freaking half hour for the stupid little guy to eat his dinner. We ended up with 4 crickets running around his terrarium (better chance for the slaughter) when he finally got himself one. It was pretty anticlimactic, but it's my blog and I can write about whatever I want.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RfJqV7Ey0NI/AAAAAAAAADA/3hPGrboOAG8/s1600-h/penguin.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-1655726995191492570?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/1655726995191492570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=1655726995191492570' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/1655726995191492570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/1655726995191492570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/03/chocolate-cake-and-some-penguins.html' title='Chocolate Cake and Some Penguins'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RfJqV7Ey0NI/AAAAAAAAADA/3hPGrboOAG8/s72-c/penguin.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-9156323194812019701</id><published>2007-03-07T20:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:46.954-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's All Good</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/Re-U3SHpqVI/AAAAAAAAACw/cdhcH35NcvI/s1600-h/pregtest.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5039410185528518994" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/Re-U3SHpqVI/AAAAAAAAACw/cdhcH35NcvI/s320/pregtest.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's funny how people put so much faith in doctors. I haven't been to a doctor this pregnancy because we are going to be using a midwife instead. We're planning to do a home birth and be hippies this time. For the last two pregnancies, I took a home test, called my entire family and close friends when it was positive and then saw my doctor within a few days to have an official test done. This "official test" is the same as the store ones, just done by someone with a degree. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This time, it was different. I took the test and then nothing followed. We went to meet the midwives, but they didn't do any kind of testing. I was starting to second guess myself. I know...stupid...my belly's getting bigger, etc...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So this afternoon, I swung by the Dollar Tree to get me one of those quality tests. It was positive, of course. But I felt SO relieved! On the way home, I had planned my reaction to it being negative. I was going to cry a lot, and then drink a six pack of whatever was handy and eat a butt load of sushi and brie.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Instead, here I sit munching on an apple and a glass of milk. I hear that's better for growing a baby than beer. Just a rumor.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-9156323194812019701?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/9156323194812019701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=9156323194812019701' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/9156323194812019701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/9156323194812019701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/03/its-all-good.html' title='It&apos;s All Good'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/Re-U3SHpqVI/AAAAAAAAACw/cdhcH35NcvI/s72-c/pregtest.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-8146127981846900764</id><published>2007-02-20T18:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:47.187-08:00</updated><title type='text'>My Eyelids Weigh a Thousand Lbs</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RdutUKzJWWI/AAAAAAAAACc/ysTAB3PwMGg/s1600-h/coldmeds.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5033807570524526946" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RdutUKzJWWI/AAAAAAAAACc/ysTAB3PwMGg/s320/coldmeds.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Seriously. I have been sleeping all day! I still feel like I'm doped up on Nyquil, only without the freaky heart palpitations. I guess I can use the excuse that I'm making a person, but it really doesn't seem to make me feel legitimate. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;On a side note, my children are vagrants. Yes, they have a home, but they are total vagabonds. They are both currently eating dinner, squatting on their chairs. Why? They're both tall enough to sit comfortably at the table like civilized beings, but nooooo, they choose to squat. I'm too tired to argue about it tonight. As long as they go to bed in 1 hour and 38 minutes (no, I'm not counting down or anything). Update: they are doing tai chi now. How the hell did they learn that? Freakin' dirty hippy vagabonds.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ok, I'm not even making sense. That's enough for me. Back to bed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-8146127981846900764?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/8146127981846900764/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=8146127981846900764' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/8146127981846900764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/8146127981846900764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/02/my-eyelids-weigh-thousand-lbs.html' title='My Eyelids Weigh a Thousand Lbs'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RdutUKzJWWI/AAAAAAAAACc/ysTAB3PwMGg/s72-c/coldmeds.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-6873781459740638525</id><published>2007-02-17T09:08:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:47.315-08:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Baaaaaaaaaack!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/Rdc50RKqE9I/AAAAAAAAACQ/h08xSYO8N2Y/s1600-h/raspberry.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5032554678733902802" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/Rdc50RKqE9I/AAAAAAAAACQ/h08xSYO8N2Y/s320/raspberry.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm a loser. I haven't blogged in a long time. I'm sorry to all my fans. (Ashley)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But anywho, it's 9:09am on Saturday. I'm supposed to be at a baby shower in less than an hour. I haven't showered. I'm going to be late, and yet I blog. It's okay though because I don't reread anything. So if this is terribly misspelled, I really do apologize. I noticed that I wrote "enless" in the previous post. I'm an idiot.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So the big news in our house is that I'm PREGNANT! Woo hoo! I'm 7 weeks along and the baby is approximately the size of a raspberry. Dude!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We have decided to use a midwife this time around and have a home birth. I know, I know...I'm crazy. We met with a couple of midwives on Tuesday and they were awesome. I felt like they were more in tune with what we wanted than any doctor I've ever met. The only drawback to the home birth is there will be no Statol. If you aren't familiar with Statol, I'm sad for you. It's the crack cocaine of the birthing world. I didn't have epidurals with the other two kids, but this stuff was amazing. Oh well, au natural for me. I'm sure the midwives won't mind if we have real cocaine there. I've never tried it, but what better time than the very painful birth of a child? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Ok, it's 9:18. I need to get my ass in the shower.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-6873781459740638525?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/6873781459740638525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=6873781459740638525' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/6873781459740638525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/6873781459740638525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/02/im-baaaaaaaaaack.html' title='I&apos;m Baaaaaaaaaack!'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/Rdc50RKqE9I/AAAAAAAAACQ/h08xSYO8N2Y/s72-c/raspberry.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-7323689102953470591</id><published>2007-01-31T16:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:47.504-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chuck E. Cheese Sucks Ass</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RcE7VzXGaqI/AAAAAAAAACE/VXuanRBASh8/s1600-h/chucke_ur.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5026363904872573602" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RcE7VzXGaqI/AAAAAAAAACE/VXuanRBASh8/s320/chucke_ur.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yes, the big furry mouse sucks ass. Not literally of course, that would be a lawsuit in the works... But the entire establishment is my enemy today. I took the kids to a birthday party, yes another birthday party, it's enless. This one was for...wait for it...my Grandpa's girlfriend's son's daughter. She's sorta family, right? No. But she is cute, and rich. She also LOVES Lauren and says she's her best friend in the WHOLE world.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, the party was in Vancouver, so it took me 45 minutes to get there. We sang a bunch of gay mouse related songs, ate a lot of pizza, ate cake that was originally in the shape of a dinosaur, played some Skee Ball and left. It was 3:30 by then, and we were lucky enough to hit all the good traffic on the way home. I can honestly say I saw every single person who lives in the Vancouver/Portland area today. They were all on I-5 South. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We are home now, thank God...I feel like I'm going to pass out, so I need to get up and move or I will. Good day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;PS. Any ideas on what the "E" stands for in Chuck E. Cheese? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;PPS. Since Kara insists there are millions of people reading my blog every day, or 8 at least, I expect you all to come to my PartyLite party tomorrow night.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;PPSS. There is no PPSS.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-7323689102953470591?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/7323689102953470591/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=7323689102953470591' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/7323689102953470591'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/7323689102953470591'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/01/chuck-e-cheese-sucks-ass.html' title='Chuck E. Cheese Sucks Ass'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RcE7VzXGaqI/AAAAAAAAACE/VXuanRBASh8/s72-c/chucke_ur.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-3750948452109062400</id><published>2007-01-23T19:30:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:47.790-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nutmeg! Nutmeg? Don't Be Ridiculous!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RbbY7zXGapI/AAAAAAAAAB0/WlQYoMmpKpQ/s1600-h/nutmeg.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5023440956289346194" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RbbY7zXGapI/AAAAAAAAAB0/WlQYoMmpKpQ/s320/nutmeg.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just made the most disgusting dinner ever made, in the history of dinners. I can't blame myself too much, since it was a recipe, but I should have known not to put nutmeg in fettuccine alfredo. The recipe called for it, and I'm a law abiding citizen, so...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My kids won't touch it. I can't finish it and Josh hasn't even gotten home yet. I thought about tossing his portion, but I really want to see if he likes it. He just might...*fingers crossed*...but I highly doubt it. Looks like he's getting leftover manicotti from last night. (Which was really good, *Sarah, take a bow*)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RbbYlDXGaoI/AAAAAAAAABs/E-23gIrCa0Q/s1600-h/crossword.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5023440565447322242" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RbbYlDXGaoI/AAAAAAAAABs/E-23gIrCa0Q/s320/crossword.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Unrelated, we watched Word Play last night. It's a documentary about the National Crossword Championship. It was fabulous. The whole movie, I was dying for a crossword to do. I went online and found one, but it's not the same without that newspaper smell and the pen. Yes, a pen. As we learned last night, that makes me some sort of elitist. Ha! I just hate pencils. I also never actually finish the crossword. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So this morning, after dropping Lauren off at school, I stopped at the little news stand at the corner and bought a paper. I was seriously desperate to get out of my car with my glasses and unwashed hair in a really messy bun to get my paper. If you know me and my issues with my hair and my ugly night goggles (glasses), you get this.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Off to solve my puzzle. Yeah, right... I'm so stuck.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-3750948452109062400?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/3750948452109062400/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=3750948452109062400' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/3750948452109062400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/3750948452109062400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/01/nutmeg-nutmeg-dont-be-ridiculous.html' title='Nutmeg! Nutmeg? Don&apos;t Be Ridiculous!'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RbbY7zXGapI/AAAAAAAAAB0/WlQYoMmpKpQ/s72-c/nutmeg.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-961700372888956903</id><published>2007-01-17T20:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:48.081-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Vincent &amp; the Crickets</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/Ra75QTW2i6I/AAAAAAAAABc/WF9_9M4lqxU/s1600-h/chubby.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5021224693034027938" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/Ra75QTW2i6I/AAAAAAAAABc/WF9_9M4lqxU/s320/chubby.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It sounds like a really cool band doesn't it? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It isn't a band, \Vincent is our new frog. Emily and Jon got him for the kids. He's a chubby frog. I'm serious, that's what Petco calls him. He is very cute.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;However...he eats crickets. Or rather, he's supposed to eat crickets. We put them in his aquarium and he just sits there in all his chubby frog glory and lets them chirp all freakin' day long. I HATE crickets now. There's one in particular, I'll call him Dan. Dan is a real A-Hole. He hasn't shut up in two days. I keep yelling, from various places in the house, "shut up you stupid cricket". The kids think it's hilarious. I assure you, it's not hilarious. I'm losing my mind. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We've been stuck in our house (yeah, with the crickets) since Monday evening. There has been no school, so the kids are a little on the rambunctious side. I keep threatening them, they don't listen. They just keep jumping off the couches and giggling incessantly. Ugh, this is why we have schools.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We did go to a movie today though. We saw "Night at the Museum". It was surprisingly funny. I love Owen Wilson and Ben Stiller. I really want to go a museum now. I'm sure it would be a let down since none of the exhibits would really come to life. A girl can dream can't she?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm going to go commit some insect murder now. Good day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5021224448220892050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/Ra75CDW2i5I/AAAAAAAAABU/ZKezqQI7qa4/s320/cricket.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-961700372888956903?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/961700372888956903/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=961700372888956903' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/961700372888956903'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/961700372888956903'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/01/vincent-crickets.html' title='Vincent &amp; the Crickets'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/Ra75QTW2i6I/AAAAAAAAABc/WF9_9M4lqxU/s72-c/chubby.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-6365557260296131097</id><published>2007-01-03T13:01:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:48.316-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy New Year!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RZwgHV7m6jI/AAAAAAAAABI/SZE2TU94vrA/s1600-h/millerhighlife.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5015919395502221874" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RZwgHV7m6jI/AAAAAAAAABI/SZE2TU94vrA/s320/millerhighlife.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think I'm dying. I couldn't sleep last night because I could have sworn my throat was closing up. It started at about 3pm yesterday and progressively got worse as the night went on. By about 5 this morning, I was standing in my kitchen with a bag of cough drops, waiting to die. I'm kidding of course, but I was freaking out a tad. I still don't know what's going on. I don't have a fever or any other symptoms. My throat has given up on me, that's all.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Speaking of pipes being clogged...okay, that was a stretch...but really. Our dishwasher has been sucking more and more each day since about a year ago. We thought it was just a cheap piece of crap and there was nothing we could do about it. We priced new ones and basically resigned to spending about $450 for a stinkin' dishwasher. Weeellll.... last night Josh took it apart. I guess he figures if we're going to dump it anyway, no harm in breaking it, right? He found some little black piece of plastic shoved inside the hose. Yep, he fixed the dishwasher. Hurray! No more hand washing! Woo hoo!! And for any of you who are thinking, "get over it, I hand wash my dishes and don't have a dishwasher..." YOU aren't washing dishes for this family of pigs.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, we had a wonderful Christmas and New Year. We spent Christmas Eve with Josh's family and had the prime rib dinner of dreams. Christmas morning we got to surprise the kids with bikes. They were also pretty jazzed about the carrots that the reindeer (I) chewed up and spit out all over the front step. We then headed over to my parents' house for our annual gift fiasco. It was great. Lots of inspired gifts this year, including the trip from my mom and dad for the whole fam. They're taking us to a GIANT house in Washington in June. It's on the Puget Sound and looks like a fantastic time. Can't wait!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We left the day after Christmas to go to Sunriver with Josh's family and some friends of the family. It was relaxing and beautiful &amp;amp; Tina (Josh's mom) cooked some awesome food. I gained 3 lbs. Damn. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We got back on the 30th and spent the day doing laundry. The next morning, I got to visit my new cousin in the hospital. I won't go into all the details because this post is already long enough. Check Sarah and Rob's blog to the right. Long story short, the baby Jack is the most beautiful and cute baby I've seen in a LONG time. I can't wait to nuzzle him some more.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;New Years was spent at Heidi and Stefan's. As always, it was a blast. We had some beer, some more beer and then some beer. At midnight, we had some champagne. Then we had some more beer. Next year it's been decided that we will just have some Miller High Life, the Champagne of Beers instead. No one likes cheap champagne anyway. We played darts until 2 am and somewhere in the middle of everything, Josh and Stefan saved some crazy hispanic girls and a baby from being attacked by a carful of drunk chicks. It was definitely entertaining.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cheers!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-6365557260296131097?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/6365557260296131097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=6365557260296131097' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/6365557260296131097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/6365557260296131097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2007/01/happy-new-year.html' title='Happy New Year!'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RZwgHV7m6jI/AAAAAAAAABI/SZE2TU94vrA/s72-c/millerhighlife.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-6808443189257533822</id><published>2006-12-22T15:38:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:48.541-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nothin' Says Christmas Like a Little Ninja</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RYxuxKhiCpI/AAAAAAAAAA8/nr4sAiT4QWY/s1600-h/ninjaparty.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5011502276274162322" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RYxuxKhiCpI/AAAAAAAAAA8/nr4sAiT4QWY/s320/ninjaparty.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just wrapped a bunch of stocking stuffers. If you're on my list of recipients, close your eyes while reading the rest of this post. I'm not exactly sure how that will work, but feel free to try it. I went shopping last night with Amy. We went out to Hawthorne to Greg's. This is my new favorite store. Where else are you going to find 1/2 inch ninjas? Really! I know what you're thinking...who needs 1/2 inch ninjas? Every man in my family. That's who.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The best purchase of the evening was by far the "Jesus Rocks" chewing gum for my dad. It's just blasphemous enough to be funny. Anything less would be offensive, like for example the Jesus action figure I had in my hands.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You can also get sushi tape, bacon tape, "I Heart Meat" stickers and buttons. (I held back Ashley)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;On another retail related note, Amy says that JoAnn's has all of their Valentine's stuff out already. I think they're screwy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Wow, you guys must think I do nothing but shop. 'Tis the Season!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-6808443189257533822?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/6808443189257533822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=6808443189257533822' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/6808443189257533822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/6808443189257533822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2006/12/nothin-says-christmas-like-little-ninja.html' title='Nothin&apos; Says Christmas Like a Little Ninja'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RYxuxKhiCpI/AAAAAAAAAA8/nr4sAiT4QWY/s72-c/ninjaparty.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-178250865257878536</id><published>2006-12-18T16:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:48.651-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Chestnuts Burning in a Fireplace</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RYc036hiCoI/AAAAAAAAAAw/kIIpJKKPrYI/s1600-h/chestnuts.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5010031245680315010" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RYc036hiCoI/AAAAAAAAAAw/kIIpJKKPrYI/s320/chestnuts.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Funny thing. Burnt chestnuts smell a lot like pot. And peanut butter. But mostly pot.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We all went out on Saturday night for my mom's birthday. It was fabulous. We all (13 of us) went to Stanfords and I ate a TON of food. I was actually a tad sick from overindulgence. That didn't stop me from repeat eating my leftovers the next day, mind you.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When dinner was over, we went back to my parents' house to roast the chestuts that my dad bought for just that very purpose. Upon entering the house, the lights started to dim. It wasn't more than 20 minutes before the power was completely out. We had fires in both fireplaces, candles lit all over the place and 14 (we aquired Molly along the way) of us to keep eachother warm. My dad wasn't going to let a little thing like no power get in the way of the roasting. We loaded up the roasting pan and stuck it in the fireplace. The first batch just wasn't done. The nuts were still really wet and squishy. So...we tried again. No luck. The outside burned and the middle was still squishy in some places and hard as a freakin' rock in others. Then Jon took over. He spent a good 25 minutes in there by himself, perfecting the chestnuts. Didn't go so well...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The lights suddenly came on and everyone could suddenly see. Jon could also see his nuts. (Don't go there) They were completely charred. There was no nut to speak of anymore. Only shells of charcoal. The whole house was visibly filled with smoke. James came in and said, "smells like weed". &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So...moral of the story is chestnuts weren't meant to be roasted over an open fire. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-178250865257878536?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/178250865257878536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=178250865257878536' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/178250865257878536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/178250865257878536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2006/12/chestnuts-burning-in-fireplace.html' title='Chestnuts Burning in a Fireplace'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RYc036hiCoI/AAAAAAAAAAw/kIIpJKKPrYI/s72-c/chestnuts.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-5995425207736134679</id><published>2006-12-11T17:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:48.805-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Here's to New Traditions!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RX4MSbPjpTI/AAAAAAAAAAk/UURgQS3lf2Q/s1600-h/poophouse.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5007453346372756786" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RX4MSbPjpTI/AAAAAAAAAAk/UURgQS3lf2Q/s320/poophouse.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So my dad is the king of old-fashioned traditions. We all LOVE it and totally live for all the cool things he comes up with. It's awesome! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;In the spirit of Christmas tradition, he bought some gingerbread houses for the kids to decorate at his house last night. What a cool idea, right? I mean, what kid doesn't like to stick candy to cookies in the shape of a house. It's like a Kodak moment waiting to happen, right? Wrong.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The adults took over and turned it into the gingerbread house decorating fiasco of the century. There was some serious competition between the girls and the guys. It was a bit reminicient of the "Cartel" vs. the "Women" Life game at the beach this January.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The girls' house looked like your typical pretty gingerbread house. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The guys'.....well check out the picture. They started it off with a giant anarchy symbol on the roof and topped it off with the huge door "knockers" on the front. Somewhere in between there was a "back door" (yes, dirty) with the words "oh oh oh" instead of "ho ho ho". Sick puppies I tell you. It was fabulous.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My dad bought some chestnuts "for the roasting". Let's see what disgusting things we can come up with. Let's make it a Christmas to remember....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-5995425207736134679?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/5995425207736134679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=5995425207736134679' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/5995425207736134679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/5995425207736134679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2006/12/heres-to-new-traditions.html' title='Here&apos;s to New Traditions!'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RX4MSbPjpTI/AAAAAAAAAAk/UURgQS3lf2Q/s72-c/poophouse.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-3522424123877195791</id><published>2006-12-07T13:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:48.963-08:00</updated><title type='text'>'Scuse Me While I Kiss This Guy</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RXiQ9rPjpSI/AAAAAAAAAAY/KPcOqJNR6zU/s1600-h/scuse.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5005910375076701474" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RXiQ9rPjpSI/AAAAAAAAAAY/KPcOqJNR6zU/s320/scuse.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;If you don't already know what that means, it's from a book I bought for my aunt Sarah about 10 years ago. It was called, "'Scuse Me While I Kiss This Guy, and Other Misheard Lyrics". It was stinkin' hilarious. There were a bunch in there that everyone, or at least I could relate to. My all time favorite is still the "Blinded by the light! Wrapped up like a douche, another roner in the night". Supposedly those are the wrong lyrics, but I'm not buying it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;You may wonder where the hell I'm going with this...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have been noticing all the Christmas songs that are completely ruined by my father and husband, along with many others. I was just saying to my dad and Josh the other day that I was surprised by how FEW they had ruined for me. That got me thinking. Now I notice EVERY time one comes on the radio. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;A few examples:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Walking in a Winter Wonderland..."Walking 'Round in Womens' Underwear" (Thanks to both dad and Josh)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year...not so much a wording difference, but I always hear Devon's voice doing an accented version of the song.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'll Be Home For Christmas..."I'll Be a Gnome For Christmas" (Credit to dad)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I can't think of any more at the moment, but I'm sure they'll come to me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-3522424123877195791?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/3522424123877195791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=3522424123877195791' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/3522424123877195791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/3522424123877195791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2006/12/scuse-me-while-i-kiss-this-guy.html' title='&apos;Scuse Me While I Kiss This Guy'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RXiQ9rPjpSI/AAAAAAAAAAY/KPcOqJNR6zU/s72-c/scuse.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-74131184802891838</id><published>2006-12-06T16:25:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T10:30:49.143-08:00</updated><title type='text'>No Habla Ingles?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RXdj47PjpRI/AAAAAAAAAAM/VYmrOD5SV6Q/s1600-h/habla.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5005579340472362258" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RXdj47PjpRI/AAAAAAAAAAM/VYmrOD5SV6Q/s320/habla.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's it! I'm never leaving the house again! The whole world is frantically shopping and I can't even get my stupid errands done!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I left the preschool at 12:30, went to Kohl's to get Josh a shirt for the Christmas party, went across the parking lot to Winco and then further down the parking lot to Jo-Ann's. This took me 3 freaking hours! Geez!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Winco was a nightmare. There were abandoned carts all over the place and we had to park in Egypt. I'm not kidding, it was in Cairo. It took us an hour and a half alone just to get some stupid groceries. On top of that, the lady in front of me in line didn't speak ANY English and the checker didn't speak ANY Spanish. She was trying to use her Oregon Trail card and the machine was malfunctioning. I was ready to scream. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;On the upside...I'm done with my errands and have a hot cup of coffee on the table next to me. I'm staring at the beautifully lit tree and listening to K103 on the laptop. I appreciate a station that immediately switches to all Christmas songs as soon as December hits. In fact, I think they started before that. Fabulous.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've sent my Christmas cards (except you, Kara. I need your address), decorated the house and am almost done with gift shopping. I get to sit back and enjoy this year! I plan to make a lot of cookies and eat even more. (not sure about the logistics of that one)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-74131184802891838?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/74131184802891838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=74131184802891838' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/74131184802891838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/74131184802891838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2006/12/no-habla-ingles.html' title='No Habla Ingles?'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_svO1e4R3ilE/RXdj47PjpRI/AAAAAAAAAAM/VYmrOD5SV6Q/s72-c/habla.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-4883146137691524809</id><published>2006-11-29T21:23:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-29T21:38:07.820-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Huh huh, you said "log".</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6929/4188/1600/727069/yule%20log.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6929/4188/320/112392/yule%20log.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My house is all Christmassed out. I already feel better. There are little red bows above my windows, ornaments in a bowl on the table, my little ugly nativity scene, snowglobes from my 6 years of combat shopping (all free from JC Penny), garland wrapped around my staircase railing and various red, white and green things all about. All I'm missing is the yule log. Oh, that's right, I don't have a fire place. Blast!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't know why, but this time of year makes me feel so good! I feel like a Bing Crosby Christmas album all the time! Hopefully we will be able to go get our tree this weekend. I'm really looking forward to the lights and the scent of "tree". Only problem is we have another (yes, another) birthday party here next weekend and I'm afraid of giving up any room for the tree. Hayden is turning 5 on the 11th, so we're going to have his first "kid" party on the 9th. We're doing an army/camo theme so I'm thinking there will be about 8 boys running around in a 20 sq ft area. Oh well, I'll just make 'em drop and give me 20 if they get out of hand. That or I'll give them more cake and send them home. Yeah, I'll do that.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;PS Notice the doll in the picture. Looks a bit sacrificial to me...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-4883146137691524809?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/4883146137691524809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=4883146137691524809' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/4883146137691524809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/4883146137691524809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2006/11/huh-huh-you-said-log.html' title='Huh huh, you said &quot;log&quot;.'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-7346808092985171506</id><published>2006-11-20T08:49:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-20T09:07:59.989-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Are There Birthdays in Hell?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6929/4188/1600/307307/Party-Hat.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger2/6929/4188/320/825446/Party-Hat.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Our weekend was a flurry of childrens' birthday parties. It all started on Wednesday, I know...that's not the weekend. My cousin, who is 4 had her birthday party that night. We drove to St. Johns for the shindig. It was a typical 4 year old's party. Cake, juice, chaos, etc. The only part of the kids parties that I like was missing though! My aunt asked everyone not to bring presents. Sad. (I know she doesn't NEED anything, but NO presents?)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then on Friday, we had Lauren's party. There was some serious girliness going on in this house. We did dinner, cupcakes, gifts and makeovers. My 10 year old sister-in-law helped to "makeover" the girls. They all looked like little hookers. It was great. However, I always get ahead of myself and make things bigger than they need to be. We luckily ended up with half of the girls not showing up. There were 8 kids here and 6 that could have shown up. Whew... thank God most of the girls in her class have parents who don't speak English and probably couldn't read the invitation. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We had three of the girls spend the night on Friday night. It was fine except for them not actually sleeping...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sunday was the third and final day of birthday bliss. Preston, Lauren and Audrey all have the same birthday. Lauren and Preston were actually born on the same day in 2000 only a few hours apart. Audrey was born 2 years later on the same day. So, Sunday was Preston's day. We went out to their house and did the whole routine again. Cake, presents, chaos. There was at one point 8 kids making a train through their house. It was loud. Josh whispered to me, "get me out of here". We left.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, if anyone wants to say their weekend sucked or was uneventful...come talk to me! I'll make you feel better. Or I'll punch you in the nose.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-7346808092985171506?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/7346808092985171506/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=7346808092985171506' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/7346808092985171506'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/7346808092985171506'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2006/11/are-there-birthdays-in-hell.html' title='Are There Birthdays in Hell?'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-116347871065191400</id><published>2006-11-13T20:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T20:31:50.660-08:00</updated><title type='text'>old.</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3522/3646/1600/old-woman.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3522/3646/320/old-woman.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When did I get so old? I know, I'm only 26, but I feel OLD all of a sudden. I have lines around my eyes and mouth, sagging boobs and grey hair. Am I the only one who feels like this? Dang, I am supposed to be at my prime and I am WASTED!&lt;br /&gt;Maybe it all has to do with the fact that I'm planning my daughter's 6th birthday party. That alone makes me feel ancient. I told my dad that the other night and he said, "Watch it, what does that make me?" And my son is turning 5 in less than a month! My baby! Aaack!&lt;br /&gt;I want the t-shirt that my dad received as a gift from a friend of his a long time ago. It was probably his 30th birthday or something. This guy made him a black t-shirt with the word "old" in tiny little letters right across the front. It's exactly how I feel.&lt;br /&gt;The decongestant I took an hour ago isn't making me feel any younger.&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry this post sucks so much.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-116347871065191400?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/116347871065191400/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=116347871065191400' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/116347871065191400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/116347871065191400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2006/11/old.html' title='old.'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-116311019562702051</id><published>2006-11-09T13:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-09T14:09:55.643-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Stupid Judicial System</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3522/3646/1600/gavel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3522/3646/200/gavel.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here's what my week was like. I know it's only Thursday, but I feel like it's been longer. I had jury duty. I had to call and report on Monday after 4pm. They said to come at 8am on Tuesday to report for duty. I did. They made me sit around all morning. Everyone but me was called for some reason or another. I was left holding my stupid profile in my hands. I thought I was in the clear. Nope! The bailiff came back in and called a whole bunch more names. I was one of them. At this point it's 11:20 am. She says that we have to leave the courthouse and come back at 1:30. So I go home and eat some lunch and do some laundry. When I get back to the courthouse, they are not ready for us, which I have learned is the way our court system works. One hour = 2 hours and so on. They call us in to the jury room at 2:30. Now there were 30 people in a room no bigger than my living room. It's hot and stuffy and they lock us in. Yep, locked the freakin' door behind them and leave us in there. 45 minutes later they come back in (when I say "they" I mean the bailiffs) and bring us into the courtroom. We each have been assigned a seat. I am in the front row of the jury panel, there are 12 of us up there and the rest are sitting in benches. They start asking us all sorts of wierd questions. After 2 more hours, they have chosen their jury. I am on it. Yay!&lt;br /&gt;So, they have us come in Wednesday for trial. At this point, I'm kind of excited. I get to sit in on a real criminal case ( I won't get into the details for fear of the poleese comin' to get me). We get there at 9 am and start the trial. I get to hear testimony from several witnesses and see some horrifying photos. At 4:40, the judge lets us go home.&lt;br /&gt;I show up today for the day at 9 am and the bailiff is there to tell us that we have to wait in the jury room until 10. We do. At 10:30, she and the judge come in to tell us there was a mistrial. They sent us home. DAMNIT! I don't even get to hear the defense side of the story! We never got to deliberate and I'll never know the outcome. I'm so bummed! Anyway, that's my week. Sucks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-116311019562702051?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/116311019562702051/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=116311019562702051' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/116311019562702051'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/116311019562702051'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2006/11/stupid-judicial-system.html' title='Stupid Judicial System'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-116278838624477675</id><published>2006-11-05T20:37:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-05T20:46:26.256-08:00</updated><title type='text'>MySpace Addict</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3522/3646/1600/myspace.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3522/3646/200/myspace.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so mad at myself for starting this whole myspace thing. I swore to everyone I know that I hated it and would never be a part of it. I was soooo wrong. I just signed up so that Heidi could look up her sister in law in California who supposedly had an account. We never even found her. Dang it. Now, my account just sat there for almost a year while I got random emails every once in awhile from some pornstar wannabe who wanted me to add them as a friend. I like to deny them... Anyway, I'm getting off subject. One day, about a month ago, I get an email from an old friend who sent me a message through myspace. Then my sister (yeah, that's you Emily) got an account and started leaving me comments. Now my page actually looks active and I suddenly had 6 friends. I thought "what the heck, I'll use it to look up old friends and such". Now I am actually dreaming about it. I am sick. I might need counseling. I have 20 friends now and have just found my long lost cousins. I am really happy and don't hate it anymore. I am an addict. Great, one more thing to keep me from getting my "job" done. So, the picture on this post is from Angela, one of my real life friends. It cracks me up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-116278838624477675?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/116278838624477675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=116278838624477675' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/116278838624477675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/116278838624477675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2006/11/myspace-addict.html' title='MySpace Addict'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-116224294901065390</id><published>2006-10-30T12:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-10-30T13:15:49.020-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Doofus is Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3522/3646/1600/clockworkorange.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3522/3646/200/clockworkorange.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe what I did this morning. I had written into my little calendar(mentioned in a previous post) that my son had preschool today. It said "PK-Trick or Treating" for today. I got him all ready in his costume and took him to school. Yeah, no school today. That would have been embarrassing enough but to make matters worse, there was another class there today. We got all the way inside the class before I figured it out. I'm so glad he didn't have a costume involving any face paint or anything. We just slipped him out of his "armies" as he's calling them and continued on with our day. What a HUGE dork I am. Man!&lt;br /&gt;On a completely different note...the Halloween party was a major success. There were a lot of people and almost everyone had a great costume. There were a few who showed up later with little or no costume. They were lucky we were all drunk by the time they got there. Otherwise, they would have had to wear the Mr. Potato Head costume that was tucked away for their kind. You know the kind. They put on something slightly different than their everyday clothes and maybe cover themselves in glitter or something but by no means are they wearing a costume. Losers.&lt;br /&gt;My personal favorite costumes of the year...&lt;br /&gt;-My own husband who was Alex from "A Clockwork Orange". He was creepy and wonderful. The jock strap with cup was pretty sexy too... Ok, maybe not.&lt;br /&gt;-Angela who was an "Anxiety Attack" wearing a t-shirt with prescription meds taped to it and was carrying a GIANT martini glass and had mascara running down her face.&lt;br /&gt;-Giovanni who came as Jack from Jack in the Box. He had a paper mache head that looked EXACTLY like the guy from the commercials. It was perfect.&lt;br /&gt;-Jen as the girl from "The Birds" with little bloody birds all over her. Classic.&lt;br /&gt;-My uncle Rob as a nun. Nuff said.&lt;br /&gt;-Devon as Moses, accompanied by his girlfriend Kendra, who was none other than a beer bottle.&lt;br /&gt;Oh man, there are so many that I can't remember at the moment. It was all good. Very nicely done Amy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-116224294901065390?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/116224294901065390/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=116224294901065390' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/116224294901065390'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/116224294901065390'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2006/10/doofus-is-me.html' title='Doofus is Me'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-116173076405575716</id><published>2006-10-24T15:27:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-24T15:59:24.083-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Avon Calling!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3522/3646/1600/avonlady.0.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3522/3646/320/avonlady.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I keep having this picture of Peg Boggs from Edward Scissorhands going through my head. The scene where she walks into his giant scary house and says, "Avon calling!". The reason for this constant thought is that I became an Avon lady this week. I know how incredibly cliche it is to sell Avon when you're a stay at home mom. I don't care. I actually started selling it because I needed more blush and I don't have an Avon lady. My friend Kristina was selling it for awhile but she isn't anymore and I am out of blush! (This is no ordinary blush either) I also get most of my stocking stuffers for Christmas from Avon. Where was I going to find all that chapstick, bodywash and mini bubble bath? I decided to sign up and see what happens. I love it! It's so cheap that I don't feel like I have to encourage people to buy anything. When I was doing Mary Kay I always felt like a fraud. I couldn't even afford it! Anyway, I was just thinking about this scene and had to find a picture of it. Here it is. Oh, and does anyone have an order? Just kidding. Ok, I'm not kidding.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-116173076405575716?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/116173076405575716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=116173076405575716' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/116173076405575716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/116173076405575716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2006/10/avon-calling.html' title='Avon Calling!'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-116161479571347491</id><published>2006-10-23T07:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-23T07:46:35.723-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Naked for $500 Alex</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3522/3646/1600/alex.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3522/3646/200/alex.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been meaning to blog about this for over a week now. The moment has passed and I should just let it go but I can't. It's just too good.&lt;br /&gt;Last Friday our kids were spending the night at my parents' house. We were going to have a date but didn't know exactly what we were going to do yet. I get a call from my aunt inviting me to Strip Jeopardy at a little place on Hawthorne. She assures me that it's just a fun little gathering. Her friends have done it before, they are mothers so I assume it will be low key and no one will actually get nekkid. I was WRONG.&lt;br /&gt;The contenders are a guy named Brendan who was good looking and had a decent body, Katie who is my aunt's friend and then there was Tom. Ugh, Tom. He was about 100 lbs overweight with hair pouring out of all of his clothing.&lt;br /&gt;The game is exactly what it sounds like, you sit on a panel (barstools) and are asked random questions. You get it right, you stay dressed. Wrong, remove something. Unfortunately for us, Tom was really bad at this game. So was everyone else. They were all naked except for a strategically placed viking hat on Brendan and some panties on Katie. Tom was totally nude.&lt;br /&gt;I know, we should have left before it got to that point. That's what my husband kept telling me. I couldn't pull myself away! It was a train wreck that had to be finished.&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow...the moral of this story? Don't trust mothers.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-116161479571347491?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/116161479571347491/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=116161479571347491' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/116161479571347491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/116161479571347491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2006/10/naked-for-500-alex.html' title='Naked for $500 Alex'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-116128528183741727</id><published>2006-10-19T11:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-19T12:14:41.856-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Greatest Form of Birth Control</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3522/3646/1600/pill.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3522/3646/200/pill.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3 little boys. That's all I have to say and most of you will understand the chaos in my house right now. I have them watching Chicken Run so I can hear my thoughts enough to actually write this. If it seems like it's choppy it's probably because it's already taken me 5 minutes to do this much.&lt;br /&gt;I am watching an old friend of mine's kids for the day. They are 3 &amp;amp; 7 year old boys. The older one is a total boy. 100%. He shouts and yells and wrestles and keeps telling me, "hey, watch me do this". The younger one is absolutely precious. His mom says he's mildly autistic but he's just really sweet so far. He repeats himself alot but is otherwise normal as far as I can tell. They, in combination with my kids are very loud though.&lt;br /&gt;I have given up with trying to give them nutritious meals too. The older one is very picky apparently. He said he was starving so I offered him about 400 ideas for lunch. All he wants is pizza or hot dogs. I have neither. Papa Johns does though. So I have ordered us pizza which doesn't exactly fall into the Weight Watchers category but I don't care. We're having pizza damnit.&lt;br /&gt;They are wrestling again. So much for Chicken Run.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-116128528183741727?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/116128528183741727/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=116128528183741727' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/116128528183741727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/116128528183741727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2006/10/greatest-form-of-birth-control.html' title='Greatest Form of Birth Control'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-116096917889703023</id><published>2006-10-15T20:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-15T20:26:18.906-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Very Merry Unbirthday to Me!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3522/3646/1600/MadHatter.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3522/3646/200/MadHatter.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love October already but it just got better. My inlaws were too busy to celebrate my birthday in July with the rest of the world (yes, the whole world) so they made Saturday my unbirthday. It was great! They supplied us with a babysitter and took us to dinner and a movie.&lt;br /&gt;We went to Cheesecake Factory and dined on some deliciousness. We had appetizers and dessert too! That's livin' large I tell you.&lt;br /&gt;They even got me an actual present! I got some new work out clothes and a gym bag. Too bad my gym membership ended in August...they had the right idea though. Besides, it makes me want to put on my new duds and go for a run. That is until I look outside and see that it's raining. Oh, and I hate running.&lt;br /&gt;After dinner we went to a movie. We saw The Guardian. Eh, so the movie kind of sucked. It doesn't matter because it was free and the first movie I've seen in a theater in months. I have to admit too that I was kind of into the movie, sitting on the edge of my chair and my heart was pounding. I can't say it was the story though, I am afraid of the ocean and drowning and this movie is all about the Coast Guard. Yeah, Ashton Kutcher is freakin' hot too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-116096917889703023?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/116096917889703023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=116096917889703023' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/116096917889703023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/116096917889703023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2006/10/very-merry-unbirthday-to-me.html' title='Very Merry Unbirthday to Me!'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-116052578108098081</id><published>2006-10-10T17:03:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-10T17:16:21.086-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Update</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3522/3646/1600/schlotzky"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3522/3646/200/schlotzky%27s.0.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok, my husband just text messaged me to tell me to update my blog. I responded with "the onion and garage?" I assumed he meant that everything I had said in my post on Saturday was no longer true. I had him pick up an onion on his way home from the gym last night, fulfilling the need for one and I cleaned the entire garage yesterday. No more homelessness in our geeraage.&lt;br /&gt;But no, he responded with "and your lunch". I sat looking at my cell phone expectantly like it would suddenly expand on what he said. Hmm, what could he mean? OH! I ate at Schlotzsky's today! Mmmmmmm. I'm actually licking my lips. I miss that place so much from our days in Misery, uh I mean Missouri. It was everything I remembered it to be. My 4 year old son said "Mom, you are the best mom in the whole entire world" when we were getting in the car after lunch. That's saying alot. He's a picky little guy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-116052578108098081?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/116052578108098081/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=116052578108098081' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/116052578108098081'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/116052578108098081'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2006/10/update.html' title='Update'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34315025.post-116028367051721235</id><published>2006-10-07T21:44:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-10-07T22:01:57.996-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Ahh, Another Productive Saturday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3522/3646/1600/onion.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/3522/3646/200/onion.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I say this sarcastically. Saturdays suck. Maybe if I was stuck in the "rat race" during the week I'd feel differently about this. But as it is, Saturdays are just a more messy and frustrating day of the week than any of the others. I always plan to get a whole bunch of stuff done and never end up doing anything good.&lt;br /&gt;This morning I woke up at 8:30 to get myself and the kiddies ready for a birthday party. We went to Target for the gift, wrapped it in the car and made it to Papa's Pizza (aka HELL) by 11am. Ick. We stayed at the party for 2 hours, which ended up being ok because the mom of the little girl whose party it was is my friend. Still, stuck at a kids' party on a Saturday when all I wanted to do was go to the farmers' market and get an onion.&lt;br /&gt;Got home at 1:30 after going to the Post Net store (like a Mail Boxes Etc) to send some stuff, which I find out can't be sent certified mail from there. I'll have to go to the Post Office on Monday. Yippee.&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, it was a nice day but I still haven't gotten an onion and our garage looks like a homeless person has been shacking up in it. I've been planning to clean it up for like 8 Saturdays. Maybe next week will be the one!&lt;br /&gt;Weight Watchers update: 12 lbs! Woo Hoo!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/34315025-116028367051721235?l=whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/feeds/116028367051721235/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=34315025&amp;postID=116028367051721235' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/116028367051721235'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/34315025/posts/default/116028367051721235'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://whatsablog-sarah.blogspot.com/2006/10/ahh-another-productive-saturday.html' title='Ahh, Another Productive Saturday'/><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17344344286964568262</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
