tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-55231963084300693562024-03-14T01:58:57.428-07:00Little WomenA Day In The Life Of A Mother OF Four GirlsKimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04905643527885163993noreply@blogger.comBlogger24125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523196308430069356.post-74886749881935773832009-02-12T19:12:00.000-08:002009-02-12T20:45:43.084-08:00ChaoticWell, I'm back. I've been really bad lately about blogging, I know. I think it's because there has been so much going on in my head that I wasn't ready to face it all yet. I think I'm ready now. Be prepared. This is going to be a long post. So go get your favorite snack and beverage, a good blanket, and some ear plugs to block out your children and enjoy the read.<br /><br /> To update you in a nutshell, Sara is almost walking (yikes! terrifying!), I have decided to keep Madison home another year before starting her in Pre-K (even though my life would be much easier if I let her go), Julia has learned to read, Lauren is becoming her own person, Steve is worried about getting laid off (his brother and boss were laid off yesterday), Steve's sister is getting married (I'm a bridesmaid, ALL my girls are flower girls, and Steve is a groomsmen. Can we say prohibitively expensive?), and I am struggling with who I have become over the years. So, besides that being the longest run-on sentence in the history of the written language, that's what's been in my head. It sometimes makes it a little difficult to breathe when my thoughts get that clogged. For the purpose of this post though we'll just stick with the topic of my children. Posts about the other topics mentioned will follow shortly.<br /><br />Sara walking is NOT what I need right now. I know it's a great milestone for her and all, but honestly it would be nice if she could just stay like she is a little longer. When Lauren first learned to walk I was thrilled. It was almost a competition with strangers kids. "Does your child walk yet?" "No?" "Mine does." With Julia a little less so. With Madison even less. (I swear she has a monkey gene in her somwhere. They really should study her DNA.) Now, with Sara, I'm actually not looking forward to it. Walking means so much more to me now than when I started having children. It means more messes for me to clean up, more chasing after a toddler, more pulling her off of things she climbs that she shouldn't, basically just "more." I'm not really sure I can handle "more" right now.<br /><br />You have to understand, that in my house I literally do everything except provide a paycheck and a few "manly" chores that all pertain to "outside things" and vehicles. My hubby commutes anywhere from 45 minutes to 2 hours every day. He leaves the house around 5:30 every morning and returns around 6 every evening. That leaves me to take care of the day to day. I pay the bills, manage the budget, discipline children, clean house, do laundry, grocery shop, cook (from scratch, not from a box), take the children to their various activities, help with homework, help with other people's children, I'm Room Mother, volunteer at school, and coach the Jr. Pee Wee cheerleading squad. Add in the fact that I need to lose about 90 pounds, which requires finding the time to exercise and actually paying attention to what I put in my mouth, a walking one year old, possibly having no income, and a wedding and you start to feel as if the walls are closing in.<br /><br />Now, I know all that sounds like I'm just whining and being an Eyeore, but just give me a minute. That was the venting part. Now just read on for the upside.<br /><br />The upside is, I LOVE doing everything I mentioned. Crazy as that may sound. Well, except maybe the losing weight part. Which would explain how I gained it all in the first place. If I were like most women I would have done something after I gained the first ten pounds. But, as with everything else, I have ignored it until I can ignore it no longer. <br /><br />I love baking cupcakes and planning parties for my children and their classmates. I loved learning all about cheerleading this past year and then teaching it to a group of overly energetic girls and dealing with their overly concerned parents. I watched myself take a group of girls who couldn't tell their left from their right and teach them how to be a team and work together. I love that they became so excited and worked so hard that they earned second place in their competition. I have loved watching Julia learn to read and discovering that she's really good at math. She definitely gets that from her dad. I love that Lauren has been discovering all sorts of things about herself, her friendships, and who she wants to become. I think she's pretty amazing and when I look at her I can't believe she's my daughter sometimes. I love seeing the world through Madison's eyes. Every day is an adventure for her. She's like a miniature Columbus. <br /><br />If I had to guess what each of my children would be when they grow up I would have to say that Lauren will be a lawyer because she is so bright, her strengths are in language arts and reasoning, she's creative, and always has to have the last word in an argument. The wall always loses with her. Julia will be a CEO of a major company. She is the most stubborn person you have ever met and her math skills at this point amaze me. Once she sets her mind to something there is no stopping her. She is ferocious. Madison will be a pilot or professional rock climber. I say this because she loves to push the limit, she is not afraid of heights, or most anything else for that matter, and she always finds a way to get to whatever it is that she wants. Sara. My darling Sara will be a psychiatrist. Mainly because she will have grown up the youngest in this insane family of ours and will be uniquely qualified in the area of psychology, but also because she is the most patient, understanding, and observant child I've ever known. Whatever my children become I know that they will always be strong, independent, confident women. And that is really all a mother can ask for isn't it?<br /><br />That concludes this epic post. I will write more about the ditherings in my head tomorrow.Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04905643527885163993noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523196308430069356.post-87550262824250231372009-02-09T14:21:00.000-08:002009-02-09T14:36:14.444-08:00URGENT!!!!!!! PRAYERS NEEDED!!!!I know I haven't blogged in awhile and this blog has absolutely nothing to do with me but I need everyone who reads this to please pray as hard and as loudly as you can. A fellow cheerleading coach, whom I don't know well but think the world of, has just found out that her husband has a malignant, stage 2 brain tumor. They found out when he was rushed to the hospital in Gainesville after having a seizure on a jobsite. He has two precious, young daughters. For those of you that know me, you know that this type of brain tumor is what my dad died from. His was stage 4 when they found out about it. Please pray that at stage 2 they have caught it early enough to completely erradicate it with the proper treatment. Pray that their family will be able to cope with this shocking and life altering change in their lives without feeling that they have fallen into a black hole. I urge you to please send up a prayer for them every time they come to your mind whether your the praying kind or not. I have seen God work miracles in my lifetime. My dad was one of them. He lived 5 years past his operation. They gave him 6mo. to 2 years. They had no medical explanation for it. The man I am asking you to pray for is one that I barely know but in watching him coach football this past season I greatly admire. He was the one coach that always had the children's best interest at heart, never yelled, only encouraged and you could tell he loved his family with all his heart. His wife is the same type of person. They deserve a happy ending. Please help give them one.Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04905643527885163993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523196308430069356.post-76050217345606219582009-01-31T18:58:00.000-08:002009-01-31T19:08:31.777-08:00SaraWell. she's officially mobile. She can crawl faster than the rest of us can walk. She is pulling herself up to standing and cruises around the room holding on to things. I'm sure in a couple of weeks she will let the last of her fear go and begin standing on her own and not too much after that begin walking. How time flies. She's only ten months and miles ahead of the other three at this age. What ever am I going to do? For those of you that believe in "babyproofing" let me just say, THERE"S NO SUCH THING!!!I have tried every form and fashion and nothing has ever kept my children from getting to womething they really want. Plug covers I have to pry out with a knife slide out for them like they were greased with butter. Cabinet locks. My children quickly learned if you pull hard enough it will open. Crayons and markers. They somehow get to them even when under lock and key. I think this time I will just forget all of that and try to stay one step ahead of her. I just keep reminding myself that all of these traits that annoy me now are going to be wonderful assets when they are out in the world. So here's to Sara running around the house, and me, in about a month. (That's before her 1st birthday people). Mommy needs a margarita.Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04905643527885163993noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523196308430069356.post-11968370591634637642009-01-31T18:50:00.000-08:002009-01-31T18:57:23.462-08:00The Affair WorsensMy darling husband can now play WOW for 48 hrs. straight on a weekend. <br />Pathetic I know. But we're making it work. I now have a wireless connection so I can use my laptop in the living room. For Facebook, of course. I just can't seem to bring myself to take it away from him since it seems to be making him a happier person. He's not as frustrated at work, he's in a better mood when we do things together, and he doesn't hassle me at all any more when I "spend money." I'm sure it's because of the guilt he feels for only leaving the computer to use the bathroom every 6 hrs. on weekends, but hey, who am I to complain. I'm sure it won't last forever, but at least I can let him enjoy it now.Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04905643527885163993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523196308430069356.post-30236537494464112842009-01-31T18:34:00.000-08:002009-01-31T18:50:03.222-08:00FacebookYes. I am addicted. Yoville. Pet Society. Lil' Green Patch. Lil' Blue Cove. Willy's Sweet Shop. Pathwords. And so many more. I am constantly heard sayin, "In a minute sweetie, mommy's on Facebook." It's so much fun and I get to keep in touch with people I haven't seen or talked to in forever. Some of them I know better now than I did when we saw each other everyday because we're not "playing nice." Everyone vents their frustrations, says what they wouldn't say if you were standing face to face with each other. You get to know the "real" side of them. Who they are when they're free from the constraints of trying to be what everyone else wants them to be. If they have a bad day or the greatest day ever they can state it and everyone encourages, supports, or comforts them. I find it fascinating. You can instantly chat with someone half way around the world while playing a game and eating your lunch. It's the height of multitasking. If you're not on Facebook yet then I pity you. You have no idea what you're missing. So go join now and add me to your friend list. Then you can be addicted just like me.Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04905643527885163993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523196308430069356.post-2391449134097982222009-01-06T23:10:00.000-08:002009-01-06T23:13:05.266-08:00The AffairMy husband is cheating on me!<br /><br />With a video game!<br /><br />6 hours playing World of Warcraft?!?!?!?!?!<br /><br />The man is obssessed!<br /><br />Does anyone know if they have a support group for this?Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04905643527885163993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523196308430069356.post-81080204879415077632008-12-28T06:09:00.000-08:002008-12-28T07:23:05.756-08:00The Joys of Christmas<div> <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284851831043129346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPAVHqjedGuD0iJxHVpzemyQ6ljaL1XXTKGxXZiWeTc63RloFY2_TsU3_t-iPuAJAYO_NL80sZC76lHvpmmrGhTXwQiYdu3FFiolV4W1j-PewkfVnpWINOKJVMIO8kAPm9j3CzHDQTrQn6/s200/100_4027.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284851827875118146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtVEQS83kU-BelGcx6VuZYCmLujl9HaUaP1HOh4YZnk_E9jjh-CXSBxALN0asfdIU5_JjFOjhMRubeofd4oRPdcIDMj8yJlaK8bwjjdA4216zZR1lRfRMbcqRfaxATMVCa3JFm6XdpWV9a/s200/100_4026.JPG" border="0" /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwSwXS-vL-XYUDC5UDkwv0BewNp4A1ZZwrezmCqYAjnvaERchqaBipC7OXHNPbvybcDAS6YnuouRd0zEjlQe81Es-oXkHpCc0LiLCZj13jQYKiuskPoYgHGie6oUJcbA4bK8cfkWwyvkCp/s1600-h/100_4014.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284845025140989890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwSwXS-vL-XYUDC5UDkwv0BewNp4A1ZZwrezmCqYAjnvaERchqaBipC7OXHNPbvybcDAS6YnuouRd0zEjlQe81Es-oXkHpCc0LiLCZj13jQYKiuskPoYgHGie6oUJcbA4bK8cfkWwyvkCp/s200/100_4014.JPG" border="0" /></a>1. One of the greatest things about my family getting together is that their Uncle Matthew gets to irritate them. Usually to the point that they cry and ask if we can go home. One day I'm sure they'll look back and laugh and say he's their favorite uncle. Or not. </div><div align="center"><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDqEbhMYgIPH33iYBiSx49XqZkm9pmgWGW6jb6VwzA0isNkK_VshfU4kraL5zJB7u1VSupzz5ltaM4YAt5vkZdK2dQFlQB15ClW_3PUoutZpl8W6kuekhRjnFFmwx0rrBBTbNo53gM1Mnm/s1600-h/100_4073.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284845013159384962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 185px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDqEbhMYgIPH33iYBiSx49XqZkm9pmgWGW6jb6VwzA0isNkK_VshfU4kraL5zJB7u1VSupzz5ltaM4YAt5vkZdK2dQFlQB15ClW_3PUoutZpl8W6kuekhRjnFFmwx0rrBBTbNo53gM1Mnm/s200/100_4073.JPG" border="0" /></a> 2. With Steve's family it's just a barrel of laughs. And screams, hair pulling, fights over who gets the pink pony with butterflies on its butt, and whether or not they're going to watch Barbie's Christmas Carol or Barbie's Nutcracker. After we had Sara my sister-in-law refuses to have any more children. I can't imagine why.<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM8bULsg_YQJZmD-q6Wp-oWcv1PmB2jZAjfNWQZUi2zTe4vUUOIhW2uB4lsNVC2bLTHkkrhcqbsGk0uVfJh9hM1PM5R4XBf0tfchhY0sTx4zS2LFUwyRfq-KkHgzj8YXQNXxb7LR_7n-9F/s1600-h/100_4010.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284845008798045410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjM8bULsg_YQJZmD-q6Wp-oWcv1PmB2jZAjfNWQZUi2zTe4vUUOIhW2uB4lsNVC2bLTHkkrhcqbsGk0uVfJh9hM1PM5R4XBf0tfchhY0sTx4zS2LFUwyRfq-KkHgzj8YXQNXxb7LR_7n-9F/s200/100_4010.JPG" border="0" /></a> 3. I finally got our Christmas card picture. If you're wondering where yours is it's still at Wal-Mart waiting for me to pick it up and mail it. Hey, at least it's a picture card. When you do finally get yours you can always just lop off the Merry Christmas part and put it in a frame. I figure with the red outfits I'm good as long as I mail it before Valentines Day. What you don't see in this picture is the fact that it took about ten tries to get it. Sara was fascinated with Madison's bow and kept trying to grab it. I'm just glad they're all smiling. About 2 minutes after I took this they decided they had enough and rebelled. No. You will not be seeing those pictures due to their graphic nature. Well, Merry Christmas! I hope next year is way better than this one was!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div></div></div></div></div>Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04905643527885163993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523196308430069356.post-60737890259954890522008-12-28T05:47:00.000-08:002008-12-28T06:08:32.100-08:00Our Tree<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5sjJsE_ouDrDQZ70MKBsvPLyHTkp0Ntvh96Xo0HVJ_bDQCcX2WRtdaj8Is6K8a1tcCcv1UWAY7TbKGEVpZmAEnFFwJ9htaenUOzsphT4tDpuRvCZIiZhYAXW692Gz0Glu2kGiEm3ELMGL/s1600-h/100_4103.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284837761523094626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 156px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5sjJsE_ouDrDQZ70MKBsvPLyHTkp0Ntvh96Xo0HVJ_bDQCcX2WRtdaj8Is6K8a1tcCcv1UWAY7TbKGEVpZmAEnFFwJ9htaenUOzsphT4tDpuRvCZIiZhYAXW692Gz0Glu2kGiEm3ELMGL/s200/100_4103.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Okay. So I really wanted to post a picture of a perfectly decorated tree that would make evryone oooh and aaah. This is what you get instead. A lopsided tree with most of the decorations clumped together in one spot. The reason for this, as you might have already guessed is..........Madison. My three year old daughter that I think may have inherited some sort of mutated monkey gene. The tree started off so well. I just didn't manage to get a picture of it that way. Within twenty-four hours of getting the tree just like I wanted it Madison had already climbed it and removed several of our favorite ornaments. So far the casualties have been limited, but still heartbreaking. Our beloved purple pixy ornament has lost her legs, Santa lost a leg off of his chair and his golf cart was dismantled, and one of the angels lost a wing. Needless to say this only proves my point when I explain to people why there are no wrapped presents under our tree until after the kids go to bed on Christmas Eve. I just keep telling myself she can't be three forever. (Can she?)</div>Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04905643527885163993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523196308430069356.post-63612181073269760712008-12-22T09:21:00.000-08:002008-12-22T09:54:07.750-08:00Santa, We Need To Talk<div align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGhL3t5xcatlz8b97pODwI6DGEWZ3-hHzK1r1ntmb9F4lncB6dKOQKEoakZEHEFYL1PAtJjZ-LWpLVB9rhJ7Ya85KVUETpq3ICS2_qieKatcRMYxk8BEdrgou6p71Ai6CfAKu9ILOGrXGx/s1600-h/100_4058.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282666938658048434" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGhL3t5xcatlz8b97pODwI6DGEWZ3-hHzK1r1ntmb9F4lncB6dKOQKEoakZEHEFYL1PAtJjZ-LWpLVB9rhJ7Ya85KVUETpq3ICS2_qieKatcRMYxk8BEdrgou6p71Ai6CfAKu9ILOGrXGx/s200/100_4058.JPG" border="0" /></a> So, all of you that know me know that I do not do pets. The girls would give their right arm for one. Dog, cat, bird, fish, sea monkey, they're not picky. I guess I must have been deprived of the "love pets" gene. Don't blame me I got it from my mom. I don't even like fish. (I know, you're in shock. Everyone likes fish.) I mean don't get me wrong, I like all animals, as long as they're in the wild or belong to someone else. But, somehow,we now have a cat. It showed up on our doorstep the other night and just won't leave. After the millionth pitiful meow I finally gave in. I bought it a cute kitty bowl and some cheap cat food and made Lauren the caretaker. They have unanimously named it Chocolate Chip. So for all of you that don't believe that there's a Santa, all I have to say is,"My kids got a cat for Christmas. So there." And, by the way, that jolly old fat man I are gonna have a long talk about what he can bring me next year to make up for this.<br /><br /></div>Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04905643527885163993noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523196308430069356.post-65810943666314301902008-12-21T23:35:00.001-08:002008-12-22T09:57:33.232-08:00MyFaceLOL<p> </p><p>The girls in their first music video!</p><div style="WIDTH: 400px; HEIGHT: 340px"><object id="MyFace_v1" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=" height="321" width="400" align="middle" classid="clsid:d27cdb6e-ae6d-11cf-96b8-444553540000"><param name="_cx" value="8467"><param name="_cy" value="6795"><param name="FlashVars" value=""><param name="Movie" value="http://app.myfacelol.com/MyFacePlayer.swf"><param name="Src" value="http://app.myfacelol.com/MyFacePlayer.swf"><param name="WMode" value="Window"><param name="Play" value="-1"><param name="Loop" value="-1"><param name="Quality" value="High"><param name="SAlign" value=""><param name="Menu" value="-1"><param name="Base" value=""><param name="AllowScriptAccess" value="sameDomain"><param name="Scale" value="ShowAll"><param name="DeviceFont" value="0"><param name="EmbedMovie" value="0"><param name="BGColor" value="FFFFFF"><param name="SWRemote" value=""><param name="MovieData" value=""><param name="SeamlessTabbing" value="1"><param name="Profile" value="0"><param name="ProfileAddress" value=""><param name="ProfilePort" value="0"><param name="AllowNetworking" value="all"><param name="AllowFullScreen" value="false"><embed src="http://app.myfacelol.com/MyFacePlayer.swf" quality="high" bgcolor="#ffffff" width="400" height="300" name="MyFacePlayer" align="middle" allowscriptaccess="sameDomain" allowfullscreen="false" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/go/getflashplayer" flashvars="config=config/pixconfig.xml&uid=494f3fe986dc81.38662870&mid=2&heads=1,assets/494f3fe986dc81.386628703.png,2,assets/494f3fe986dc81.386628704.png,3,assets/494f3fe986dc81.386628702.png,4,assets/494f3fe986dc81.386628701.png"></embed> </object><div style="FONT-SIZE: 11px; PADDING-TOP: 3px; FONT-FAMILY: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; HEIGHT: 16px" align="left"> <a href="http://www.myfacelol.com/?referid=blogger" target="_blank">Click here</a> to create your own video</div></div><img style="VISIBILITY: hidden; WIDTH: 0px; HEIGHT: 0px" height="0" src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/IMP/CXNID=2000002.0NXC/bHQ9MTIyOTkzMTMwNTM1NCZwdD*xMjI5OTMxMzUyOTc5JnA9NDIwNTAzJmQ9Jm49YmxvZ2dlciZnPTImdD*mbz*4ZGEzZGIzOThkNmY*ODQ4YTA3YmI3YTU4ZDkzNDY*Ng==.gif" width="0" border="0" />Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04905643527885163993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523196308430069356.post-468168142732363622008-12-17T16:44:00.000-08:002008-12-17T17:04:10.817-08:00Anatomy of a Christmas Tree<div align="center"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280925994785310242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzjXBdtibSfSeT-wwuDVODWE59D9cRIb3JkmCeWs2WSIYxJo4FLvjyVfIVE9p_K5BQziqUk45TPcLu1e4-IYncCMxgyhrsvFP5oOc1vFFMaN9LM1jriXBwKFY3y3otCDg2aPLHUFmu4tXs/s200/100_3924.JPG" border="0" /> Julia, Emma, Lauren, Zane, and Madison holding the tree<br />measuring stick.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280925998967650210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxEzZhPyH4mcj1y4_yOBYk5tOO7CSFkV3WG894upTZn7d1MYBJq7ROTcP78NTadkVTsyHI8AxULZbHJJv2sNxEsh5HZ97nvlBQ3jHza5Fj25V0MaGqaG7Ng9-sXJ5dEKSOXNDidxDpkDor/s200/100_3926.JPG" border="0" /> Steve ready to find the perfect tree.<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280926004678865314" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv2kaKidhERC3TT5NcKOau__c1A0FBLPVDEiod9ETkXSLvkBU-hOae8zTI11dW1KsFE-V9deRNhzGxV0X27y3S9Lqpnws2h_WXKq_cQJ6CdFW8lAzZ154-JXSKu__Vp_M-4P7nCLq7uXUP/s200/100_3927.JPG" border="0" /> The Holy Grail has been found!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIl6vYm_fXCvM6oqBrzHj8qNzc5Jl2U35ZWcdo0uxtmEbulNdG_aI-8loDvqfdbCg0iMYqOyRPIbud344XyRoB3skVkl12hZ7yg9e1I6vXGpzcrKkQsdVBfB0aVB7fLyorw92UeH85I-0J/s1600-h/100_3932.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280926008455359426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIl6vYm_fXCvM6oqBrzHj8qNzc5Jl2U35ZWcdo0uxtmEbulNdG_aI-8loDvqfdbCg0iMYqOyRPIbud344XyRoB3skVkl12hZ7yg9e1I6vXGpzcrKkQsdVBfB0aVB7fLyorw92UeH85I-0J/s200/100_3932.JPG" border="0" /></a> My manly husband has conquered the perfect tree and is ready to go home.<br /><br /><br />Perfectly decorated tree to follow in next blog.</div><div align="center">(I know you're on the edge of your seat.:))<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /></div>Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04905643527885163993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523196308430069356.post-4398609169893293432008-12-17T16:40:00.000-08:002008-12-17T16:44:31.125-08:00True Story<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN1d0HNC1WVvCY_aApCHP69imG-V37Ecdz2sQh3wWb4_6c-BY06FWp7NYAmoMheaZhGebS0pAPhvSVrAXw7C_gWNf24nnu-crWFkT1U5uzvYcnnCcLpv81clMv2XtpLoW1m8qd_6Y1XGmW/s1600-h/100_3951.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280924155249344162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN1d0HNC1WVvCY_aApCHP69imG-V37Ecdz2sQh3wWb4_6c-BY06FWp7NYAmoMheaZhGebS0pAPhvSVrAXw7C_gWNf24nnu-crWFkT1U5uzvYcnnCcLpv81clMv2XtpLoW1m8qd_6Y1XGmW/s320/100_3951.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />A testament to the fact that children really can fall asleep anywhere and in any position. Yes. She really is sound asleep.<br /><div></div>Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04905643527885163993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523196308430069356.post-69724635159320825412008-12-10T22:10:00.000-08:002008-12-10T22:33:35.930-08:00Flying PoniesPure Genius!<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDWOplvqfwaE6WKV-GnDiIHzOjOFC0CCF_G8I_rSryP_g9AbdQ7EkxdjQt90E0pcATx2PE4-A_KPFlf6bJiJSToJHejKPih5-cyBTmDisHyDkUnrmDrBV1XeEnFsRnYATBK3YvI8uKOQFp/s1600-h/100_3905.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278411366269168242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDWOplvqfwaE6WKV-GnDiIHzOjOFC0CCF_G8I_rSryP_g9AbdQ7EkxdjQt90E0pcATx2PE4-A_KPFlf6bJiJSToJHejKPih5-cyBTmDisHyDkUnrmDrBV1XeEnFsRnYATBK3YvI8uKOQFp/s320/100_3905.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><p></p><p>My daughter, Lauren, is amazing. Sara was inconsolable at times today (she's cutting teeth) and so Lauren made it her mission to make her smile. So she somehow discovered that there is a magnet in one of the paws of their My Little Ponies. So she hung six of them on the arm of her swing. Sara was mesmerized. I told my husband this story and showed him the picture when he got home today and his only comment was, "Just wait until they realize they'll stick on the refrigerator." Now won't that be a sight. My Little Ponies wandering about my refrigerator door. </p>Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04905643527885163993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523196308430069356.post-47255538359664060222008-12-09T19:31:00.000-08:002008-12-09T20:04:44.262-08:00Oops! and "Sorry"<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFtGe5ygl0bTkXW6lI4S8JGfqLXGU3aR-SLP6wUmZErgcxlQAxVaRXIYCahlDj_GZoSOD5xvdq2l_MPXAY1t4R1nWcJU_nttLIZYtX4x6eeAUUMFCSUOgXg2tGfXzvsWmImJ2zpWZwDfh_/s1600-h/100_3651.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277999194668012594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFtGe5ygl0bTkXW6lI4S8JGfqLXGU3aR-SLP6wUmZErgcxlQAxVaRXIYCahlDj_GZoSOD5xvdq2l_MPXAY1t4R1nWcJU_nttLIZYtX4x6eeAUUMFCSUOgXg2tGfXzvsWmImJ2zpWZwDfh_/s320/100_3651.JPG" border="0" /></a> This is my daughter Julia. I get this look a lot. When she "accidentally" leaves the refrigerator door open. When she spills her milk at the dinner table because she's goofing around with her sisters. When she streaks naked in front of company because she "forgot" to lay out her clothes and get a towel before she got in the shower. Or the time, when she was 3 , that she decided it would be a great idea to "paint" a picture on my bedroom wall with bright red fingernail polish. Every time I get this look though I just can't seem to stay mad at her. I guess because this look reminds me how wonderful it is to be a child. Where all mistakes can be fixed with just an, "Oops" and a "Sorry." I know she'll learn soon enough in life that some mistakes just can't be fixed. My job, for now, is to teach her how to deal with mistakes once they're made. For now, I'll just cherish those two little words that make everything better. I'll give her a kiss, show her how to fix it, and remind her to be more careful next time. Because one day this adorable little girl will be all grown up and this look will be gone forever.<br />So for all of you moms, when your little one does something that makes you wish you could wiggle your nose and be somewhere else, just take a deep breath and remember that not long from now you'll wish you could see this look just one more time.<br /><div></div>Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04905643527885163993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523196308430069356.post-5319070693671599122008-12-08T13:35:00.000-08:002008-12-08T14:20:10.028-08:00Are you Serious?!I'm a SAHM. All the working mothers I know ask me how I do it. How do I get everyone where they need to be, cook dinner, bake cupcakes for their class on their birthday, plan and excute class parties, coach cheerleading, and the laundry list of other things I'm supposed to do. They think I'm Supermom. The truth is I'm not. My husband often comes home to a slightly (sometimes disasterously) messy house, dinner not even yet thought of, and me still in my pajamas. He then dares to ask the question, "What is it you do all day long?" Most of the time I can't even remember. I know I've done a lot, but I just can't quite recall all the messy details. Take today for example. I woke up exhausted, the car wouldn't start (which I figured out was just a loose battery cable, kudos to me), and I barely got the kids to school on time. When I got home I thought I would now have the chance to relax a moment while Madison watched a movie and Sara took her morning nap. Then it happens. I'm pouring myself a glass of chocolate milk and I notice on the refigerator the note I posted two weeks ago that I have a meeting at the school with Julia's speech therapist. It's at 9:10. It is now 8:30. I am still in my pajamas. So I gulp down my milk, throw on some clothes and brush my teeth. I then put on some perfume in the hopes that they won't notice that I haven't yet had a shower. I change Sara's diaper and clothes, grab Madison, and race out the door. We get there at 9:13. The meeting only lasts 10 min. Julia "graduates" from speech therapy. She's cured. Now that I'm dressed I figure I might as well run to Wal-Mart (the SAHM mecca) to get the salt and sugar we need. (We need these things because Madison made the excutive decision we did not and dumped both said things on the floor.) So we get our salt and sugar (and several other things we probably didn't need, but hey it's Wally World) and then go back home and unload. Then I decide we should go eat lunch with Lauren and Julia at school. So we do. Afterwards, we come back home and I try to clean up some while Madison plays and Sara naps. Then it's 3pm. Time to get the girls from school. At this point my day is, for all intents and purposes, over. Now it is time for snack, homework, baths, and bed. (My kids go to bed at 7:30. I know I'm an evil mother.) My husband will be home soon, take a look around and ask "The Question." One day I think I'll make him stay home alone with them all day. Then again, we both know he wouldn't survive. I think the next time he asks this question I will simply tell him, "I solved world peace.," and leave it at that.<br />To all of you SAHM's who survive on little sleep and do all the thigns necessary to keep your family on track I salute you. Now go take a Unisom, go to sleep, and pray everything is still okay when you wake up.Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04905643527885163993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523196308430069356.post-905895701896602592008-12-06T12:04:00.000-08:002008-12-06T12:17:29.595-08:00Cleaning HouseWhy does the housework never seem to end? With six people in the same house our laundry pile could pass for the Tower of Babel sometimes. The bathrooms can get dirty in less than thirty seconds. The walls get wiped down and 30 seconds later a child has written on them. Again. We have plenty of shoes, we just can't ever find the mate when we need it. The same goes for our socks. So for the sake of my sanity we are starting the FlyLady's 15 minute rule. The idea is that you pick one room and work on it for 15 min. Then you pick another room and work on it for 15 min. and so on and so forth until the entire house is clean. I can handle 15 min. and for people who tend to be nit picky and go insane when they start thinking about every little thing that needs to be done, switching rooms isn't a bad idea either. So I'm going to begin my 15 min. I'll let you know how it goes. Who knows, the next time I post my house might actually be clean. Now that's something to get excited about. :) Here's to all of you who are in my shoes. Have a great day and just take it 15 min. at a time.Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04905643527885163993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523196308430069356.post-57939338118919286762008-12-05T18:37:00.000-08:002008-12-05T20:42:10.889-08:00Life With A Precocious 3 Year Old<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBGW3Htwv_fhjGkmp9b1HTzUqKJUuNdp8NstcNlUGjyABwKNthlQj2SO61X8wKw_uoqQpVQrOLyp0FzJp4z0V1TU880nLokisQKdMP3oO88WaybAfaWm9v5q-5Dzp3R9HT56Jcy3vmMKq7/s1600-h/100_3597.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276532577769198562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBGW3Htwv_fhjGkmp9b1HTzUqKJUuNdp8NstcNlUGjyABwKNthlQj2SO61X8wKw_uoqQpVQrOLyp0FzJp4z0V1TU880nLokisQKdMP3oO88WaybAfaWm9v5q-5Dzp3R9HT56Jcy3vmMKq7/s320/100_3597.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div><div>KIDS: "Madison got a haircut!"<br />ME: WHAT!?!?!?!?!?<br /><br />KIDS: "Madison, don't tell Mama. You'll get in trouble."<br />ME: I wonder what she's done now.<br /><br />KIDS: "Madison's got the markers!"<br />ME: By now I'm sure there's another VanGogh on my living room wall. Thank God for washable paint.<br /><br />KIDS: "Madison's on top of the refrigerator! Again!"<br />ME: Did I give birth to a daughter or a monkey? I thought only boys did this.<br /><br />and what you REALLY don't want to hear:<br /><br />KIDS: "MAMA! Madison's got Sara!"<br />ME: It's a wonder she's made it this far. Why did I have four children again?</div>Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04905643527885163993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523196308430069356.post-46729589720660383782008-11-29T16:08:00.000-08:002008-11-29T16:19:52.363-08:00Thanksgiving MealSo I usually cook a huge feast from scratch every year. We're talking cooking cornbread from scratch to make the cornbread dressing, chopping vegetables, baking cakes and pies, homemade mac n cheese, the works. This year though I decided to cheat. I came to this conclusion because this year it was just Steve, the girls, and I and I was exhausted. So I got mashed potatoes from a bag, cornbread dressing, mac n cheese, calico beans, and apple crumb pie from a box, and cranberry dressing from a can. I even cooked our turkey in our crockpot so that if I forgot about it at least it wouldn't burn. I have to admit it was the easiest Thanksgiving yet. And to top it off it was actually really good. Not quite as good as when I make it all myself but it was still pretty tasty. So kudos to me! I hope you all had a great Thanksgiving. To all of you crazy enough to have shopped the day after kudos to you. I did it one year and hope I never have to be involved in that insanity again. Now begins the race to Christmas. (And by the way, if you decorated your house for Christmas before Thanksgiving shame on you! That's cheating! ) Good luck to all on your holiday shopping!Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04905643527885163993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523196308430069356.post-40353974978061872352008-11-18T10:43:00.000-08:002008-12-05T20:37:17.364-08:00All Star Cheerleading<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAAlV7_LM1Ru7hrVHKISvBZ2628dTs9baIpKoOGSUFz6faHG-fkobDCZbs2N0X0Lv7l913Mh8TkaUmyLYbX10WmZtU-HmYuHF59-GegApdpD7F88TurEBb4dR-YviJ6G2Wtd6rReMJF3Av/s1600-h/100_3500.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276530859891499554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAAlV7_LM1Ru7hrVHKISvBZ2628dTs9baIpKoOGSUFz6faHG-fkobDCZbs2N0X0Lv7l913Mh8TkaUmyLYbX10WmZtU-HmYuHF59-GegApdpD7F88TurEBb4dR-YviJ6G2Wtd6rReMJF3Av/s320/100_3500.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR5XldM_oNBiuahesah1RgfQPuXBw1LbQMhBuTGcIyxK4Kw3mNV8BUtg5qi3sdI4uf8e923EZ4s1GMmflGkSfv0uxcJcuu3C0b3bdmgZHwWeFDn3uynaf2WVwRAw1QeN0KFahUSujhz843/s1600-h/100_3502.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276530856517538578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiR5XldM_oNBiuahesah1RgfQPuXBw1LbQMhBuTGcIyxK4Kw3mNV8BUtg5qi3sdI4uf8e923EZ4s1GMmflGkSfv0uxcJcuu3C0b3bdmgZHwWeFDn3uynaf2WVwRAw1QeN0KFahUSujhz843/s320/100_3502.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />These are my adorably energetic All Stars. Ebonie, Jalis, Jennifer, Eden, Lauren, and Haley. They had such a blast even though it was freezing and began to rain at the end. I am so proud of the hard work they put in. Way to go girls!<br /><div><img class="gl_photo" height="1" alt="Add Image" src="http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif" width="25" border="0" /></div></div>Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04905643527885163993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523196308430069356.post-30543732100361817012008-11-18T06:33:00.000-08:002008-11-18T06:40:52.348-08:00Cycling ManiaWell, I worked out again yesterday. I took the cycling class. Let me just say OMG!!!!!!!! My "betweeny", as my girls call it, still hurts! The gel pad they gave me for my seat did not even begin to help. Did you know that when on the bike you only feel out of breath and your legs only hurt while "climbing a hill", but as soon as you extract yourself from the machine your legs feel like jelly? I was sure I would never walk again. I was supposed to go to the kickboxing class today, but Madison is sick so I am going to stay home and just do my elliptical today. Wish me luck tomorrow. It's that cardio class again. Jessica Alba here I come!Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04905643527885163993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523196308430069356.post-82105472095305770612008-11-16T16:26:00.000-08:002008-11-16T16:41:40.830-08:00Girl's Night OutFriday night four of my closest friends came over for a Girl's Night Out. No kids allowed! It was the best time I have had in a looooong time. Lauren spent the night with a friend and Steve took Julia, Madison, and Sara to Tennessee with him to see his parents. We ate, talked, and laughed until 2am. We covered every taboo topic possible. Religion, politics, husbands, you name it we talked about it. I am truly blessed to have the friends God has blessed me with. These are amazing, strong, independent, loyal friends. Not just the ones you can talk bout your kids with or ask to help you with the class party. I mean the call in the middle of the night with a crisis come and bail you out of jail friends. This weekend reminded me just how lucky I am. It reminded me I am special and loved. I soooooooo needed this.<br /> I also worked out again on Saturday and walked for 45 min. today. My goal is to look as much like Jessica Alba as possible by May. That's six months people. So keep those encouraging lies coming. Tomorrow I'm going to a cycling class so wish me luck. To all my wonderful friends I wish you a fabulous week! Thanks for everything!Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04905643527885163993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523196308430069356.post-86266761681973618792008-11-12T16:04:00.000-08:002008-11-12T21:52:32.866-08:00Belly LaughSo, after having four children my body looks like war zone. I'm not kidding! There are now mounds of "debri" (aka blubber) where there used to be flat sandy plains (aka my stomach). There are mine fields (aka stretch marks) where there used to be perfect skin. And countries (aka my boobs) have moved to lower regions (this means they sag). I still think I'm gorgeous, but that's only because I avoid all mirrors. I finally came to the conclusion last week that since I am officially done have children I am ready to get myself back. Every mother I know comes to this point eventually. The point where you realize if you give anymore of yourself away you won't know who you are anymore. You already don't recognize the person that stares back at you from that wretched thing they call a mirror. So, I decided to stop avoiding the mirrors and become the person I used to know. My first step was to join a gym. I know, I know. At this point you're thinking "It'll never last." That's where you're wrong. I finally got up the courage to go to the gym and actually work out and I loved it. All of the women there were encouraging and supportive. I did 20 minutes on the elliptical, 20 minutes of ab work and a 1 hour cardio class. Yes, I made it through the entire class. I couldn't believe it either. I felt so good afterwards that I am going back tomorrow for the kickboxing class. My muscles are protesting profusely and my mind keeps asking me why I would want to torture myself like this. All I can say is that I'm starting to like the person I see in the mirror again.Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04905643527885163993noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523196308430069356.post-50569008206916819382008-11-11T06:09:00.000-08:002008-11-11T06:37:34.541-08:00SainthoodI've decided I should be nominated for sainthood. I believe the qualifications are that you must perform three miracles. Well, that's easy.<br /><br />Miracle #1- All of my children are still alive. Even after coloring on my walls with Sharpies and fingernail polish, stuffing Q-tips and bar soap down the toilet, and spreading poop on everything (walls, door handles, shoes, etc) during the potty training phase.<br /><br />Miracle #2- My husband is still alive. Even after declaring that giving our children a bath and helping with the dishes after a meal "isn't his job." (See. I'm a saint.)<br /><br />Miracle #3- I still nominated a certain cheerleader for All Stars (she deserved it) even though I got an "a**-chewing" (as her mom likes to call it) in front of the entire squad because she has a permanent case of PMS. Oh, and I didn't kill her either. (Even though I did hear Mrs. Hannigan's screams of "Kill! Kill! Kill!" in my head)<br /><br />Saint Kimberly- The patron saint of mothers with restraint<br />Has a nice ring don't you think?Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04905643527885163993noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5523196308430069356.post-35107828747646966902008-11-05T13:35:00.000-08:002008-11-05T14:09:19.250-08:00My first blogWell, I have decided to join the technological age and start my own Blog. As I write this, the thought goes through my head that with 4 children there are plenty of other things I should be doing right now. Not least of which is cleaning my house. But I decided to start this to save my sanity and give me a place to share all of my joys, frustrations, sorrows, and whimsical musings with whoever might find them interesting, helpful, or just downright entertaining. <br /> I have four beautiful daughters. Lauren is 8. She is intelligent, sweet spirited, helpful, and has just enough fire in her to make her a pain in my butt sometimes. Like the fact that even if you tell her to be quiet she HAS to finish whatever she was saying. Julia is 5. She is savvy, stubborn, quick witted, stubborn, and extremely funny. And did I mention stubborn? For example, when we went for her 1st school conference the teacher said she had actually digressed. She knew her letters and numbers at the beginning of the year, before they started teaching her, but now she only knew about 3 letters, 2 numbers, and the color blue. All because she didn't feel like telling anyone anything on the day they evaluated her. Madison is 3. She is a delight and it is wonderful to look at the world through her eyes. She is resourceful, insightful, and free spirited. Like when I found her in my washing machine because she thought it looked like fun. Or the time she cooked an entire box of waffles in the toaster oven while I was taking a shower because she decided she was hungry. Sara is 7 months. She is the most patient baby you will ever meet. She is learning to crawl and sits up pretty well. She loves Raggedy Ann and all of her sisters. <br /> My husband and I will be married 10 years in May. He is the love of my life. He is the one person who can make me laugh no matter what else is going on. Like when I am so mad at him I could spit nails and he ends up making Coke come spewing out of my nostrils instead. Wonderful visual, I know. <br /> Well, I hear my jungle animals calling me to come and feed them so I will end it here. Have a great day and try to find the things in it that make you smile.Kimberlyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04905643527885163993noreply@blogger.com2