tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-372467282024-03-13T01:41:36.814-07:00KRISTEN!Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13241118159105980825noreply@blogger.comBlogger58125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37246728.post-33651661694731806282009-01-03T19:34:00.000-08:002009-01-03T19:57:52.885-08:00My friend Robert tagged me (sorry, no link, don't know how to do that). Todd is always after me to blog more. This counts, right? <br /><br />1. YOUR ROCK STAR NAME: (first pet & current car):<br /><strong>Sparkle Liberty</strong><br /><br />2.YOUR GANGSTA NAME: (fave ice cream flavor, favorite cookie):<br /><strong>Double Dark Chocolate Sugar</strong><br /><br />3. YOUR DETECTIVE NAME: (favorite color, favorite animal):<br /><strong>Blue Gorilla</strong> (mine was really blue dog but I didn't want to copy robert)<br /><br />4. YOUR SOAP OPERA NAME: (middle name, city where you were born):<br /><strong>Michelle Lufkin</strong><br /><br />5. SUPERHERO NAME: (”The” + 2nd favorite color, favorite drink):<br /><strong>The Pink Pepper</strong><br /><br />6. NASCAR NAME: (the first names of your grandfathers):<br /><strong>Buck Howard</strong><br /><br />7. WITNESS PROTECTION NAME: (mother’s & father’s middle names ):<br /><strong>Ann Troy</strong><br /><br />8. TV WEATHER ANCHOR NAME: (Your 5th grade teacher’s last name, a major city that starts with the same letter):<br /><strong>Tareilo Tacoma</strong><br /><br />9. SPY NAME: (your favorite season/holiday, flower):<br /><strong>Autumn Daffodil</strong><br /><br />10. CARTOON NAME: (favorite fruit, article of clothing you’re wearing right now + ie or y):<br /><strong>Apple Gownie</strong><br /><br /><br />11. HIPPY NAME: (What you ate for breakfast, your favorite tree):<br /><strong>Pigs in a Blanket Mimosa</strong><br /><br />12. YOUR ROCKSTAR TOUR NAME: (”The” + Your fave hobby/craft, fave weather element + “Tour”):<strong>The Crazy Quilting Wind Tour</strong><br /><strong></strong><br />I'm tagging:<br /><br />Jason<br />Rachel<br />Lance<br />Amy<br />(again, no links. sorry.)Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13241118159105980825noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37246728.post-45270880972185774172008-12-29T21:43:00.000-08:002008-12-30T05:02:33.920-08:00<strong>What I Did on My Christmas Vacation</strong><br /><strong></strong><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">I had myself totally prepared to have the best Christmas ever. New town, new job, new friends...plus, old friends and family, trips back home, etc. Todd and I were both prepared for a phenomenal holiday season. And for the most part, I wasn't disappointed. In the three weeks <em>before</em> Christmas, I put up the tree and decorated the house, made cookies, and went to look at lights with the kids...Finley sang, all decked out in a Christmas dress, in a program at church and she stole the show. By December 23, the gifts were wrapped, and I spent the day baking and getting last minute things done.<br /><br />Then, finally, the day arrived. Christmas Eve. Big deal at our house. That's when we celebrate with Todd's family. And, for the first time ever, we were having dinner at our house instead of Gigi's. That morning, Pop, Nonna, Papa and Gigi arrived with tons of gifts and lots of food. Just as we were about to sit down to dinner, the phone rang...<br /><br />My dad was in the ER...he was disoriented and confused. He had the symptoms of a stroke. But the doctors didn't think it was a stroke.<br /><br />I'll cut to the chase here. My dad had AMNESIA. Yes, that's right. AMNESIA. Transient Global Amnesia, to be exact. But we didn't find that out until 2 long, worry filled days later.<br /><br />I'd never known <em>anyone</em> who actually had amnesia. Alzheimer's? Sure. Senility? Sure. And those things are awful. I don't mean to minimize the seriousness of those, by any means. But AMNESIA? That's the kind of thing you see on <em>Murder She Wrote</em> or <em>One Life to Live</em>! (Ok, I don't think I've seen it much on <em>One Life to Live</em>, but plenty on <em>Days of Our Lives</em>. Marlena is positively plagued with amnesia.)<br /><br />Now, my dad's case wasn't as severe as Marlena's usually is. He knew who he was, and who we were, but he couldn't remember what was going on or where he was. Then, we'd tell him, and he'd forget. Almost instantly. Then he'd ask again. He did that over and over, all day long. He thought it was 2005. He couldn't remember where he worked. And he said his mom was 1,000 years old.<br /><br />This was all preceded by his taking a trip to Wal-Mart to do some last minute Christmas shopping. And we all know, somewhere deep inside us, that as soon as we walk thru the doors of a crowded Wal-Mart, we could lose our grip on reality at any point. That's why I avoid Wal-Mart. I already walk a thin line between sanity and <em>losin' it</em>. I can't afford to push it.<br /><br />By Christmas Eve night, he was back to normal. The doctors ran all kinds of test on him, but didn't find anything serious. (Thank You, Jesus)<br /><br />He got back home late on December 26. Then we celebrated Christmas with my family. It was nice. And a little weird. Considering we had an amnesiac wearing a Santa hat sitting there in the recliner.<br /><br />Can you belive that?<br /><br />It's all true.<br /><br />No one I know has ever heard of Transient Global Amnesia. Except for my friend Becky, who saw it on an episode of <em>NCIS</em>.<br /><br />And THAT is what I did on my Christmas vacation.</span>Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13241118159105980825noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37246728.post-52017189487703271712008-11-25T06:25:00.001-08:002008-11-25T06:53:35.328-08:00<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnETlULVS4b5B-qk3OzBysYIeUoYIqR4J_VCPOYPdxzsTOoz18KTgNbK_OfJuar_3wf-owNBdWHIZAKGC52Gx0SrobHYgO0iQqiWNkS7j0meT4dlswhkn-hFeXNLKgQ1JIouHh/s1600-h/1_magnapinna_461.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnETlULVS4b5B-qk3OzBysYIeUoYIqR4J_VCPOYPdxzsTOoz18KTgNbK_OfJuar_3wf-owNBdWHIZAKGC52Gx0SrobHYgO0iQqiWNkS7j0meT4dlswhkn-hFeXNLKgQ1JIouHh/s320/1_magnapinna_461.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5272601340630368130" border="0" /></a>My dad showed me <a href="http://news.nationalgeographic.com/news/2008/11/081124-giant-squid-magnapinna.html">this cool video</a> of a "magnapinna" (or bigfin) squid.<br /><br />We couldn't post the video, but I thought I could show you a picture of it.<br /><br />JONAH.Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13241118159105980825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37246728.post-6930283143285652412008-11-13T06:54:00.000-08:002008-11-13T07:50:25.156-08:00OK, here are some long overdue pics of the family in October...<br /><br /><br />Here are the kids, trick-or-treating in Lufkin the weekend before Halloween.<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268158883293381186" 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/AVvXsEgCIazuX65oek_PSziO-OHsRO_T5MBDevYoT57Oj2SAUMqkW6ogwSk1O9sJqFcvLzGFm_mNCVCY-Szako2MpznEFP9K4UpL8OlpdVH2R8yzdpJrOK1SyrzZSXM16EE5P2aPCdjJ/s320/S8002499.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268158876731601250" 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/AVvXsEhuU-rczKz3gtaLYnBTq576-82ueWX9wa4t0u1hDyuaEhyphenhyphenlUihGG9UGIEXv4EEihbYdDTGMsNAZHEB8dhqPTwlutIxzO7k23xfNMkbvx7CfbmUAOtX7s1hrg5WALjzKbDhxTMlb/s320/S8002500.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br /><br /><div><div><div>At Moore Farms pumpkin patch in Bullard with the Straders. <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268158873387563346" 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/AVvXsEjRVWMfxkg8q4MRoNZ-qvM531JFrIv4k2YgzDGrHOry4GfrLqKTI3pHqkLeZBbkeggJB0S4Z14_ph_W1lRm3ZJEo2kDH81nV1-ob3K0w9HtfS8-z9LMQnM33amla6BTwXLCcwYo/s320/S8002493.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268158871015525138" 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/AVvXsEiJcHnqIiyej6miFSMD537VBVdstiOW0u3SJK5f-utxzrgDj6tN-NR7cAcJhpggVJAHG_y00P0QvizMXjn2yQbRTPR2bdm_JWGTAtnjxM6oPxbuNQzQXSBNAxKMC_XrFS_MeCbP/s320/S8002494.JPG" border="0" /><br /><br /><br /><br />At the Halloween party we threw with the Watsons and the Straders.<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268162592179782530" 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/AVvXsEh7ItvI6-DYTBwTNOgA6GNqZtWWErZom9DI3vc8PM7uEbqnyyPF2Z0uaahQZh1Gh-ZAGq85MXG1hMUI9TqZfIjEFh_483ZG1MFr3DkViL5WkQQ2_7Pv7UHksgdg5BFtUpnvZ_4R/s320/S8002506.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268162607476619570" 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/AVvXsEjBFsGXqnF2H-yD8O2O_w11qQXSyynoirCX_Lo_ylItOYrnfaO3rP7LgiJsHEfmrSLvUKmNNVGpFQD3DlOCdTZfkJLIfAzCxIfIpGP0aU_JzTVWPM_kmvB22fj5T_BkPOs0Rs__/s320/S8002511.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268162602990493538" 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/AVvXsEisF6MXGIEi-errp1x9Aheg4SQCdjuLn5iv1Q8ZcqFRC2l5TOtvG2CkGgpVVs6olo6WjPaFM415udTsI6olU27Vos69vZfzSkSvm3FFZeOgWMkVAN3Cg3Cd1GU6rT6xGE3seC7m/s320/S8002510.JPG" border="0" /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268162613606753698" 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/AVvXsEhMvD90teTkXvBlS9RM6U5_D6RkNDTvPIeiNSc3nWguDTv2kmuPhG2yosxDdwIPMV3LGRyXf6QjvY0jlba68bNouBGuFlz6BZnEesLyAL45ps3tEEFucta5QPyYiEjiKr8zZDBD/s320/S8002520.JPG" border="0" /><br /></div><div> </div></div></div>Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13241118159105980825noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37246728.post-84429998838471181002008-10-09T20:18:00.000-07:002008-10-09T20:19:25.172-07:00<object width="400" height="300"> <param name="allowfullscreen" value="true" /> <param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /> <param name="movie" value="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=1919090&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=&fullscreen=1" /> <embed src="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=1919090&server=vimeo.com&show_title=1&show_byline=1&show_portrait=0&color=&fullscreen=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="400" height="300"></embed></object><br /><a href="http://vimeo.com/1919090?pg=embed&sec=1919090">Downtown Tyler and Restaurant Review...</a> from <a href="http://vimeo.com/user681492?pg=embed&sec=1919090">Todd Wright</a> on <a href="http://vimeo.com?pg=embed&sec=1919090">Vimeo</a>.Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13241118159105980825noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37246728.post-54641313494783607092008-08-21T21:58:00.000-07:002008-08-21T21:59:54.031-07:00Blogging from my iPod touch....thank you Todd!Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13241118159105980825noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37246728.post-65755455320372083032008-08-08T08:05:00.000-07:002008-08-09T08:10:12.802-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAEQh2Jw4JKx8x36erHuErakv70wt2ywzIcR83doffX-Ig5Tfig0bFs7lSIqFyG08bMpPHZPYU6P2pl7tUsNCFUIDZYc3p7Pta3WYY2rdWQtayTcdIn0949UpHn_bZvjMQODur/s1600-h/myfriday.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAEQh2Jw4JKx8x36erHuErakv70wt2ywzIcR83doffX-Ig5Tfig0bFs7lSIqFyG08bMpPHZPYU6P2pl7tUsNCFUIDZYc3p7Pta3WYY2rdWQtayTcdIn0949UpHn_bZvjMQODur/s400/myfriday.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5232163824841074978" /></a> First of all, at about 4:30 Friday morning, I had a terrible nightmare. There was a little girl who kept pointing at my wedding ring, shaking her head. Because of this, I leaned over to the nun and whispered, "Sister, this child is of the devil." The nun freaked out. Then, I started talking in a really deep, scary, and comical voice (think "redrum"). Then I woke up, but had a really hard time going back to sleep.<br /><br />I woke up for real at 7:45. We all started getting ready, because Todd had to work ON HIS DAY OFF. Todd's dad called and asked if we had been to the "donut parlor" and since we hadn't, he offered to bring the kids some donuts. <br />Once the kids had finished the donuts, we got our shoes on to leave. I spent a good 15 minutes looking for my keys, only to finally find them in my purse.<br />We headed out to see my mom and dad. My mom had made sausage jambalaya and it was GOOD. I mean, IT WAS GOOD, y'all. <br /><br />My parents watched Finley while I took Jonah to get his hair cut. The lady who cut it kept calling him Joshua. That's a new one. People usually call him Noah. Actually most people call him Jonah. But if they're going to get it wrong, they say Noah.<br /><br />We went and picked up Todd and headed up to the mall to play some "Lunar Mini Golf." I have to say, I was astounded by the price. Granted, I haven't played much mini golf (or putt putt, as I like to call it) since they closed down King Putt about 18 years ago. So I was expecting to pay around $2 per person. Nope. It was $8 per person. For an extra dollar, they threw in some glow-in-the-dark necklaces. Todd wore his as a headband.<br /><br />Turns out, mini golf is a lot sweatier that I remember. It was hot in there, y'all. And another thing...I assumed with a name like <strong>Lunar</strong> Mini Golf, there would be some space ships and stuff in there. Again, nope. One side of the room had sea creatures, and the other had jungle animal. Go figure.<br /><br />After golf, we headed home. Finley fell asleep in the car, and I was looking forward to a little nap myself. But when we got home, our power was out. So we laid Finley down, called in the power outage, and tried to decide if it was too hot to stay home. I suggested Todd go get us some ice cream, to help "beat the heat." Finley then revealed to us that she wasn't really sleeping, just cat napping. So she went with Todd to get ice cream, even though by then, the power was back on. <br /><br />I ate my ice cream, then I ate my dinner. We fed the kids, then Jonah enjoyed a root beer float while he watched Garfield. I personally can't believe they even still make Garfield movies. In my mind, it's along the same lines as Alf. That boat has sailed, y'all.<br /><br />Todd bathed the kids (thank you dear) and then we put them to bed. I was going to read but I couldn't find my book. So I went to bed.Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13241118159105980825noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37246728.post-42289513278134340202008-07-29T19:02:00.000-07:002008-07-29T19:40:25.203-07:00Under <em>tremendous</em> pressure from my husband, here I am. I've been gone long enough, I suppose. One reason I haven't blogged in a while is that my precious, adorable, sweet Finley has recently become HELL ON WHEELS. <br /><br />Okay, okay. Maybe not <em>hell</em>. A great big bundle of curiosity and mayhem might be a more accurate description. But I ain't kiddin' about the wheels. There's no way she could move that fast on two feet.<br /><br />Here's just a sampling of her most recent...activities. <br /><br />...she applied anti-wrinkle cream to her face, legs, hands, overalls, and our bathroom wall.<br /><br />...she was caught eating peanut butter out of the jar with an ink pen.<br /><br />...she dumped out an entire, brand new box of Cheese Nips onto the couch.<br /><br />...she drew on her eyelids, legs, the bottom of her feet and all over her toes with blue marker. The she strolled up, put her little chin on her hand, and said, "Wook at me, Mommy," with a big ol' smile.<br /><br />...she was caught trying her best to dip peanut butter out of the jar with a pop tart.<br /><br />...she poured a box of baking soda all over the kitchen counter.<br /><br />...she was found stirring her bath water with the toilet brush.<br /><br />...she walked through the living room carrying two big handfulls of peanut butter. (Heck, who can blame her? She's seen me do that exact same thing often enough.)<br /><br />...she poured out a carton of strawberry yogurt on the counter, then I found her rubbing it all over her torso.<br /><br />So there you go. <strong>I've been busy</strong>. <br /><br />But here's the other reason...ok, the real reason I don't blog much. <br /><br /><em>I just don't get it.</em><br /><br />When I started this blog a couple of years ago, I did it as a way of staying in touch with my out of town friends. But it seems like blogging has taken on a whole new meaning since then.<br /><br />Now, it's a way to showcase your sparkling wit. Or share your deep, theological musings. Or bring a tear to the eye with your emotional transparency. Or crack your readers up with your clever comedy. Or amaze people with your command of the English language.<br /><br />I've pretty much got none of that. I don't have much to say really, and I can't imagine anyone wanting to read what I do have to say.<br /><br />I can't imagine that anyone would be interested in the fact that today, I did laundry, took the car to the shop, came home and put Finley down for a nap, then ate a bowl of Blue Bell ice cream and watched Jon & Kate Plus 8 while Jonah played a game on the computer.<br /><br />Or that Jonah and I got really excited when our favorite episode of SpongeBob Squarepants came on. (Band Geeks, in case you're wondering.)<br /><br />Or that one of the highlights of my day was when I got to hold the new cat. (A new cat wandered up about 2 months ago. He's best friends with our old cat, Henry, but he won't let us go near him. He's really small, and I think he's a wild cat. I gave him a pound of ground beef that I thawed but never cooked, and while he was eating I picked him up. He looked down his nose at me then hopped down. But still, that's progress, right?)<br /><br />Or that Finley lamented all afternoon that the two turtles Todd found in the driveway yesterday have now gone home. (I don't mean dead...just left.) <br /><br />That's my life. Not theology. Not sparkling wit. Not comedy (although I am quite clever.) The exciting things that happen around here wouldn't excite anyone else. But I wouldn't trade it for anything I read on other blogs. I love it. <br /><br />I just don't love to blog about it.<br /><br />However, I have to do something to make up for the fact that I didn't participate in the groundbreaking "My Friday" movement. Which I was repeatedly asked to do. Even on Saturday. So, here I am.Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13241118159105980825noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37246728.post-33361521487705481282008-05-30T21:37:00.000-07:002008-12-09T05:32:02.939-08:00<span style="font-size:180%;">Happy Anniversary to Me</span><br /><br /><br /><div>Yesterday was our ten year anniversary. I always imagined that we'd take a romantic getaway on our ten year anniversary, and Todd would surprise me with some fabulous piece of jewelry. Well...not quite. We "got away" to Logan's Roadhouse for a steak, and then to Target. And Todd didn't surprise me with jewelry, but he did buy me something I can wear. Sort of.</div><br /><br /><div>I wanted to do something really special and significant to celebrate our 10 years together. Something you don't do everyday. And, I've know for a while exactly what I wanted to do. So, without further ado, here it is.</div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8iw6Fl8zjLTZfQHp7cphjb8m0BKvJrmt0LNkqTcw-llG7jq0GplFsmffjMcmEE2NHEwADrp-8CDnaQLqOoxriCMR45TCrbSgLGkyky4sdbL3a_dFEEHszfg4Z364Kmdl1Zx2-/s1600-h/tattoo.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5206538646373400130" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8iw6Fl8zjLTZfQHp7cphjb8m0BKvJrmt0LNkqTcw-llG7jq0GplFsmffjMcmEE2NHEwADrp-8CDnaQLqOoxriCMR45TCrbSgLGkyky4sdbL3a_dFEEHszfg4Z364Kmdl1Zx2-/s200/tattoo.JPG" border="0" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div></div><br /><div></div>Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13241118159105980825noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37246728.post-67921489583742854062008-05-26T18:23:00.000-07:002008-05-26T19:15:14.366-07:00A happy Memorial Day to one and all...we had a great one! The day started for me at 7:15, when Finley woke up. I wish I could tell y'all I'm one of those moms (like my own mom) who are dressed, with a full face of makeup and perfect hair, and who have done a load of laundry, cleaned the bathroom, and done their Bible study by the time their kids wake up. Nope. Not me. Sometimes I haven't even done that stuff by lunchtime.<br /><br />So Finley and I get up, and I take off her WET pajamas, as I do every morning. Every. Morning. Her diaper leaks every night. But do I switch to a different brand of diapers? NO. Because, I think, she will be potty trained any day now. Then it won't matter. <em>Me? Delusional?</em><br /> <br />I get her changed and dressed, and she begs to watch Milo and Otis. Remember that one, with the cat and the dog? Finley is a notorious movie starter. Meaning, she starts the movie, then gets up and leaves after the opening credits. An hour later, she asks to watch it again. <br /><br />I then went to wake up Todd and Jonah around 8:00. Jonah is FINALLY to the age that he wants to sleep late. Hallelujah! For almost 6 years he got up every morning by 6:00. In fact, this past Saturday, the whole family slept until 9:00. A first. In 6 1/2 years. Literally.<br /><br />We all got dressed and headed over to my parents' house for breakfast. Bacon, eggs and buttermilk pancakes. Then, because we couldn't hold them back for one more second, the kids went swimming. OK, really they just splashed because it's a small inflatable pool, but they called it swimming. (Actually, we did have to hold Finley back. Her swimsuit was too small so I had to run to Target and get a new one. While I was gone, she peed on the floor and slipped down in her own pee. But she eventually did get to the pool.)<br /><br />We headed home around lunchtime. I didn't even have to fix lunch for them because my mom had stuffed them full of Indiana Jones Pop Tarts (yep!) while they were swimming. I don't really remember much after that, because once we got home, Finley and I took naps. I think at some point, Jonah left with Todd's mom, and I remember something about Todd eating chips.<br /><br />We headed back to town at 4:00 for a birthday party/Memorial Day celebration. If y'all didn't know, my family LOVES a good party. Heck, they love a bad party. Just give them some BlueBell ice cream and they'll call it a success. But today, my family hit the jackpot. My uncle accidentally left his freezer door open last night, and when he got up today, he found all the meat thawed. We went over expecting grilled hamburgers, but what we got was grilled chicken, baby back ribs, steaks and even peach cobbler. Let's just say: a good time was had by all.<br /><br />We had stop at Brookshire Bros. on our way home to pick up some milk. I also was lucky enough to pick up the last pint of BlueBell Moooo Tracks ice cream. <br /><br />Now we're home, and my kids are asleep. I officially declare this day a success.Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13241118159105980825noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37246728.post-72712348270407867442008-05-21T16:47:00.000-07:002008-05-21T19:42:35.501-07:00<span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>GAME!<br /></strong><span style="font-size:78%;"><br /></span></span><a href="http://www.kingfamilythings.blogspot.com/"><span style="color:#ff9966;">Staci King</span></a> tagged me in one of these cool survey games.<br /><br /><em>Here are the rules:<br /></em>1. The rules of the game get posted at the beginning.<br />2. Each player answers the questions about themselves.<br />3. At the end of the post, the player then tags five people and posts their names, then goes to their blogs and leaves them a comment, letting them know they've been tagged and asking them to read the player's blog.<br />4. Let the person who tagged you know when you've posted your answer.<br /><br /><strong>What were you doing 5 years ago?</strong><br />1. Moving in to our new house on Brenda Street<br />2. Putting Jonah in a big boy bed after he took a flying leap out of his crib.<br />3. Hanging out with the Bluebirds (miss you guys!)<br />4. Looking forward to a summer of NO camps (Todd had just taken a full-time job with the County Clerk)<br />5. Celebrating 5 years of marriage<br /><br /><strong>What are 5 things on your to-do list today (not in any particular order)?</strong><br />1. Take Finley to get a haircut.<br />2. Open the boxes of new homeschool curriculum that arrived today.<br />3. Try a new crock pot chicken recipe (done...it was delicious, and dare I say, nutritious.)<br />4. Pick up a prescription at Sam's<br />5. Catch up on the laundy (let's not kid ourselves...this one probably won't get done)<br /><br /><strong>What are 5 snacks you enjoy?</strong><br />1. Fritos<br />2. Dr. Pepper<br />3. Cheese Nips<br />4. Popcorn w/M&Ms sprinkled in it<br />5. Fruit roll ups<br /><em>I know, I know...I need to eat healthier snacks.</em><br /><br /><strong>What 5 things would you do if you were a billionaire?</strong><br />1. Pay off all our debts<br />2. Build Bluebird Farms<br />3. Give lots of money to lots of charities, missionaries, orphanages, etc.<br />4. Buy Todd an SUV so he would stop talking about "needing" one for gigs<br />5. Build a Rainforest Cafe in Lufkin, just because Finley loves it.<br /><br /><strong>What are 5 of your bad habits?</strong><br />1. Letting Jonah watch Sponge Bob<br />2. Thawing meat then never cooking it<br />3. letting the laundry and dishes pile up<br />4. Overplanning things that don't really matter, and under planning on things that do<br />5. Dr. Pepper<br /><br /><strong>What are 5 places you have lived?</strong><br />1. Lufkin, TX (mama's house)<br />2. Lufkin, TX (our first house)<br />3. Lufkin, TX (our second house)<br />4. Lufkin, TX (our third house)<br />5. Bryan/College Station, TX (one year)<br /><em>Yes, I know, this part is boring. It's actually been kind of boring living it, too.</em><br /><br /><strong>What are 5 jobs you've had?</strong><br />1. Teacher<br />2. Grocery checker at Randall's<br />3. Filing clerk at insurance company<br />4. Sales girl at Brooks Fashion<br />5. Lufkin Mall Customer Service Manager<br /><br /><strong>What 5 people do you want to tag?</strong><br />1. <a href="http://www.iftheywouldjustlisten.blogspot.com/"><span style="color:#ff6666;">Lance</span></a>, <a href="http://meandmyblogspot.blogspot.com/"><span style="color:#ff6666;">Amy</span></a>, <a href="http://www.jasonfullen.blogspot.com/"><span style="color:#ff6666;">Jason</span></a>, <a href="http://www.rachelfullen.blogspot.com/"><span style="color:#ff6666;">Rachel</span></a>, and <a href="http://www.theconss.blogspot.com/"><span style="color:#ff6666;">Robert</span></a>. All the Bluebirds in one fell swoop. (Shelly was already tagged by Staci.)<br />2. My <a href="http://www.brandontoddwright.blogspot.com/"><span style="color:#ff6666;">husband</span></a>.Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13241118159105980825noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37246728.post-44405117848529476352008-05-06T06:30:00.001-07:002008-05-06T06:37:01.234-07:00<span style="font-size:180%;">Son, What Exactly Are You Planning?</span><br /><br />I can't be absolutely sure, but I think I'm pretty safe in saying that I'm one of the only moms in America who was asked this by her six year old:<br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;">"Mom, can you get me some gold-titanium alloy?"</span></div>Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13241118159105980825noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37246728.post-14230492089477759272008-05-05T11:33:00.000-07:002008-12-09T05:32:03.502-08:00<span style="font-size:180%;">You Absolutely Must Try This</span><br /><br />I think I've found one of the neatest things ever on the worldwide web (not counting my own blog.) I won't even go into how I found it, because 1) it's too stupid, and 2) it's really too stupid.<br /><br />It's called the Face of the Future face transformer. And I'd never heard of it before...so I'm assuming you haven't either. If you already know all about it, then see you later.<br /><br />You upload a photo (of yourself, your kids, whoever...) and then you can choose what you want it to be "transformed" into. You can see what you'd look like as a baby, a child, a teenager, young adult, old adult, Afro-Caribean, Caucasian, East Asian, and West Asian. You can also see what you'd look like as the opposite sex.<br /><br />I uploaded my own picture and tried it out. I wasn't too impressed with the baby and child options, but the teenager one was really pretty accurate. The old one was disturbing, and probably also pretty accurate. I LOVED seeing what I'd look like if I were a different race. Turns out I'd still be gorgeous.<br /><br />What really truly freaked me out was when I uploaded Jonah's picture. Seeing what he might look like as a teenager or an old man? Totally weird. But also neat. I showed it to my mom and she hated it.<br /><br />Here are some pics of Jonah. The first one is him now, then as a teenager, then as an adult.<br /><br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196967615902991410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp6dxNqdfk7aIbKmFmsH1XFq-9iopRRukMeD33wIGoDAwasKaD-TZUWgbECCM3xvpe7TXW03DHcHpFf1ZzxjRkVkAVUBb9KNym96Hf8-vOPjl7tROs9FOj0bWZoxIaI7I88e1B/s200/php0UY8PF.jpg" border="0" /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO9IFPEbGSGFvhNqTnUz3V8bFIsMV3pGDdPjpb0UIlomWxzIwXN5WlRoF9zQgBbx7O1d09_t0Xy87u3I7fr8KjOWqqD65cyhUx2zpK2rkO6mUmV_i4ATRgnRpG_ahtVDljZfnz/s1600-h/phpnPsgo3.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196967624492926018" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO9IFPEbGSGFvhNqTnUz3V8bFIsMV3pGDdPjpb0UIlomWxzIwXN5WlRoF9zQgBbx7O1d09_t0Xy87u3I7fr8KjOWqqD65cyhUx2zpK2rkO6mUmV_i4ATRgnRpG_ahtVDljZfnz/s200/phpnPsgo3.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM9hOOjVM9_vJyPY_FylqK7X6Dr17o5-zDMifY-ZttpBnJ5WGozDOGzOLWDJnqcaCQAYN0TAhETLnvIC2f3ggDo02yYEt51iFmU6mIakdM9L1lUcB-hg_TO360lwXVGFPSpf4V/s1600-h/phpGCun5A.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5196967628787893330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM9hOOjVM9_vJyPY_FylqK7X6Dr17o5-zDMifY-ZttpBnJ5WGozDOGzOLWDJnqcaCQAYN0TAhETLnvIC2f3ggDo02yYEt51iFmU6mIakdM9L1lUcB-hg_TO360lwXVGFPSpf4V/s200/phpGCun5A.jpg" border="0" /></a> </p><p>WEIRD, huh?! What's funny is to think of him wearing those football pajamas as a 30 year old man. I'll post some more of my family, "transformed," later this week. Here's the link if you want to check it out for yourself: </p><p><a href="http://morph.cs.st-andrews.ac.uk/Transformer/index.html">http://morph.cs.st-andrews.ac.uk/Transformer/index.html</a><br /></p>Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13241118159105980825noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37246728.post-8935886955310454982008-04-28T13:06:00.000-07:002008-04-28T13:37:32.042-07:00<span style="font-size:180%;">Surprise!</span><br /><br />Ya' know, if you know me at all, and even if you don't and just happen to glance in my direction, you'll know I'm not exactly the <em>athletic</em> type. I never have been. <br /><br />I'm the girl who got hit smack in the face by the ball the very first time I stepped on a volleyball court. I'm the girl who kicked her own legs out from under her when I tried to play soccer with my cousins. I'm the girl who hit the ball twice, <em>only twice,</em> in two whole years of girls' softball. (Granted, I got two triples, being very large, and incidentally, quite busty, for an 11 year old.) I'm the girl who had to be physically picked up and thrown into the deep end of the pool by my swim instructor because I refused to jump in. <em>The year was 1984, and the instuctor, named Drake, was a dead ringer for Magnum P.I. The moms, <strong>every</strong> mom, stayed right beside the pool to watch him teach their dear children to do the dead man's float. Don't you know that they were all</em><strong> dying</strong> <em>for him to physically pick them up and throw them in the deep end? But no. I was the lucky girl he chose. </em><br /><br />So it should come as no surpise that secretly, I've hoped, and maybe even prayed a little, that Jonah wouldn't like sports...wouldn't even want to try sports. I'm ashamed of it. I'm even more ashamed to say...<strong>it didn't work</strong>.<br /><br />So here we are, in the middle of t-ball season. Jonah is a proud member of the Pirates. And guess who the proud Pirate dugout mom is? That's right...the girl who swore she would never enter a dugout again. Now, no one could keep me away! And guess who's out in the front yard playing catch with Jonah every evening? That's right..the girl who got hit squarely in the face, HARD, when she was playing catch in the front yard with her dad. And guess who got hit squarely in the face by that same man, in that same front yard, this past weekend. Wrong...not me this time. It was poor little Jonah. <br /><br />And so it begins...<br /><br /><em></em>Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13241118159105980825noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37246728.post-27710505498239498122008-04-25T14:38:00.000-07:002008-04-25T14:39:08.635-07:00<span style="font-size:130%;color:#ffff66;"><strong>NEW STUFF!<br /></strong></span><br />I got a new template!Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13241118159105980825noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37246728.post-49435930830538751812008-03-04T23:39:00.000-08:002008-03-04T10:12:36.450-08:00<strong><span style="font-size:130%;">Kristen's Favorite Things</span></strong><br /><br /><span style="font-size:85%;">Oprah has hers, and so do I. </span><br /><br />Here, in no particular order, are some things I've recently come to love, and I am wholeheartedly recommending them to you.<br /><br /><span style="color:#ccccff;">1. <strong>The CHI flat iron.</strong><br /></span><br /><br /><em>Never</em> underestimate the power of the CHI. I am convinced that somehow, this product could rule the free world.<br /><br /><br />2. <strong>The PedEgg</strong><br /><br /><br />I think I laughed at this product the first time I saw it advertised on TV. Hm. Who's laughing now? Still me, cause my feet look great. Get it at <a href="http://www.pedegg.com/"><span style="color:#ffffff;">http://www.pedegg.com/</span></a><br /><br /><br /><br />3. <strong>Cubeicals</strong><br /><br /><br />This is a storage system I got for Finley's room, and I ended up getting one for my living room too. It has cubby holes with fabric drawers. They hold lots of toys. Lots. And they look cute. This is some of the best money I've ever spent.<br /><br /><br />4. <strong>Blue Bell Centennial Cupcake Ice Cream</strong><br /><br /><br />Cake batter flavored ice cream with cake bits, chocolate icing and sprinkles. Yes...you read that right. <em><span style="font-size:78%;">Mama!</span></em><br /><br /><br />5. <strong>Sabatier Cook's Knife</strong><br /><br /><br />My brother got me this for my birthday and I <em>love</em> it! I never knew what crappy knives I had been using all these years. When Jonah saw it he asked if it could slice a pineapple in mid-air.<br /><br /><br />6. <strong>Eve's Addiction</strong><br /><br /><br />This is a website that specializes in sterling silver jewelry and their stuff is fabulous and...yeah, I'll say it...<em>cheap! </em>Check it out at <a href="http://www.evesaddiction.com/"><span style="color:#ffffff;">http://www.evesaddiction.com/</span></a><span style="color:#ffffff;"><br /></span><br /><br /><strong>7. The Sun Jar</strong><br /><br /><br />I got this for Christmas from my mom. It's a frosted mason jar with a solar cell, rechargeable battery and LED light inside. It charges during the day and lights up at night. It's so <em>cozy</em>. Get one at <a href="http://www.elsewares.com/commerce/Sun-Jar_MPD841.html"><span style="color:#ffffff;">http://www.elsewares.com/commerce/Sun-Jar_MPD841.html</span></a><br /><br /><strong></strong><br /><br /><strong>8. All The Freed</strong><br /><br /><br /><br />It's good. Really good. I can't even explain how proud I am that that's my husband. Check it out at <a href="http://www.independentbands.com/cd/toddwright/allthefreed.html"><span style="color:#ffffff;">http://www.independentbands.com/cd/toddwright/allthefreed.html</span></a><span style="color:#ffffff;"><br /></span><br /><br /><br /><strong>9. Bare Escentuals Brow Kit</strong><br /><br /><strong></strong><br /><br />I LOVE this! It comes with an angled brush and a powder (dark blond/medium brown for me). It relieves my fears that I'll look like my great-aunt Ruby, whose eyebrows appear to be applied daily. Check it out at <a href="http://store.bareescentuals.com/brows/BE_SUB_BROWS,default,sc.html"><span style="color:#ffffff;">http://store.bareescentuals.com/brows/BE_SUB_BROWS,default,sc.html</span></a><span style="color:#ffffff;"><br /></span><br /><br /><strong>10.</strong> <strong>Three Bin Laundry Sorter</strong><br /><br /><br /><p>I've always believed that my family has more dirty laundry than a small country. I can't tell you how much easier my day is since I bought this item. Go get it at <a href="http://www.bedbathandbeyond.com/product.asp?order_num=-1&SKU=12413602"><span style="color:#ffffff;">http://www.bedbathandbeyond.com/product.asp?order_num=-1&SKU=12413602</span></a><span style="color:#ffffff;"><br /></span></p><p>There you have it. Go shopping!<br /><em><span style="font-size:78%;"><strong></strong></span></em></p>Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13241118159105980825noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37246728.post-61145938088861669202008-02-29T19:06:00.000-08:002008-02-29T20:30:52.347-08:00I don't understand myself. I really don't. There are times (and I think we all have these times if we're honest) that I am just absolutely drawn to something that I don't want and don't need to be drawn to. There's chocolate, of course. And Dr. Pepper. And, sometimes, All My Children. If I were being really honest with you, I'd tell you that General Hospital is on my TV right now. (I can only watch it at night so the kids won't catch me. Jonah always says soaps are "violent.") I'm only tuning in right now to find out about that Text Message Killer.<br /><br />But this time, I'm not talking about those things. This time, something much more sinister has trapped me in its web. This time, we're talking two things: the internet, and <em>real life crime stories. </em><br /><br />Years ago, I went to church with a lady who supposedly lived in "The Town that Dreaded Sundown" around the time that it...you know...dreaded sundown. See, it was all based on a true story. So I just had to look it up. And it was all about the <em>Phantom Killer </em>who killed a bunch of teenagers in Texarkana in the 40's. Very upsetting. I wanted to stop reading it, because it was really disturbing, but I READ THE WHOLE THING.<br /><br />A couple of months ago, I remembered watching that made for TV movie, "Murder in a Small Town." It had Barbara Hershey in a bad wig and thick glasses. She played Candy Morrison, who murdered her friend from church with a hatchet. Turns out, this is a TRUE STORY. So, I start reading about it on the web. It happened in Dallas in the early 80's. The lady's real name was Candy Montgomery. I read graphic details of this story and also saw some gruesome type photos. (Nothing too bad, just some blood, but still...it was real blood.) And the whole time I'm reading this stuff I'm thinking, "I really need to stop this. This is really upsetting me." BUT I DID NOT STOP. I read the whole thing.<br /><br />Then, just last week, I was flipping through channels on the TV and I saw that "The Amityville Horror" was on. Not the old one, the new one with that cute Ryan Reynolds. I stopped for a minute to check it out. Please note: I am a life long fraidy-cat and have a life long HORROR OF THIS MOVIE. I remember my dad watching it when I was little. Remember how creepy James Brolin looked? My gosh, I was scared of that movie! And I didn't even watch it! I mostly just heard kids talking about it at the lunch table. Plus, everyone has always said <em>it's all true.</em><br /><br />So anyway, it was on, and I thought, "I'm grown. Let me just see if I'm still scared of it." Well, guess what. I was.<br /><br />Later on, I decided to check it out on the web. <em>I don't know why! </em>I think somewhere in the back of my mind, I think I'll find some sort of information or proof that will make me feel better about the whole thing. That almost never happens. And, I think maybe it won't be so scary to read it instead of watch it. Again, I'm usually wrong.<br /><br />So I read the story of how these folks bought the house even though a horrible murder was committed there, and soon after, strange things start happening. And Todd saw me reading it, and said, "Kristen, you'd better not! You'll be sorry later!" I rolled my eyes and kept reading, of course. I even got to the part where it lists off every scary incident that happened in the house. Again, please note: I am a life long fraidy-cat and have a life long HORROR OF THIS MOVIE. I told myself to stop reading, but I couldn't stop. I READ IT ALL!<br /><br />So, a lot of weirdo stuff went down at that house. But what bothered me the most was that their little girl got a new imaginary friend right after they moved in. And get this...the friend was an extra large pig with glowing red eyes...and it's name was <em>Jodie.</em> For some reason this really upset me. And they also found extra large hoof prints in the snow outside (courtesy of Jodie, I suppose) and the dad once saw red glowing eyes looking at him from the kid's bedroom window.<br /><br />Well, after I read all that, I was kind of upset. But I went on with my day. Then, that night, I could not stop thinking about that darn JODIE. I just had a horrible night. And I couldn't even tell Todd how scared I was of Jodie because I had rolled my eyes and kept on reading when he told me to stop.<br /><br />Y'all know what? I had to take a break from writing this post because I started getting scared of Jodie again. I'm not kidding. (I'm home by myself in this big old house tonight, and some cats were fighting outside, so it's creepier than usual here.) So I better quit now before I get scared again.Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13241118159105980825noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37246728.post-64681778233382097912008-02-11T12:06:00.000-08:002008-02-11T12:19:53.267-08:00<span style="font-family:verdana;">This is the coversation that took place between Jonah and me this afternoon, when we were sitting at a stoplight beside an iridescent purple Lincoln Towncar with a gigantic (and perhaps vulgar, I'm not sure) hood ornament.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><strong>Jonah</strong>: Look! That car looks like a Hot Wheels.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><strong>Me</strong>: Yeah, it does.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><strong>Jonah</strong>: That looks cool.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><strong>Me:</strong> Yeah.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><strong>Jonah:</strong> Did our car used to look cool?</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><strong>Me:</strong> No, our car has pretty much always looked kind of plain.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><strong>Jonah</strong>: Before you had me, were you and Daddy cool? </span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><strong>Me</strong>: What do you mean?</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><strong>Jonah</strong>: Well, were you cool and had a cool car, or were you lame and had a lame car?</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><strong>Me:</strong> What do you think?</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><strong>Jonah</strong>: I think you were cool.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><strong>Me</strong>: What do you think we are now?</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><strong>Jonah:</strong> You're lame!</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><strong>Me:</strong> Well, give me an example of someone you know or someone you've seen that you think is cool.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><strong>Jonah</strong>: I saw this guy, and he had a really cool hat, and cool clothes and glasses, and he had some of that <em><span style="color:#ccccff;">needle ink</span></em> all over him.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><strong>Me:</strong> You mean a tattoo?</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"><strong>Jonah:</strong> Yeah!</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;">This child is 6 years old. Heaven help us.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Verdana;"></span>Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13241118159105980825noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37246728.post-61558550890843526322008-01-29T18:22:00.000-08:002008-01-29T18:42:51.059-08:00I'm sick. I've got a cold. Maybe. I don't really know what it is. I'm keeping hope alive that it's not the flu. Most people have a comfort food they want when they're sick. So do I. I also have a comfort drink, a comfort nightgown, a comfort blanket and a comfort movie.<br /><br />My comfort food is mashed potatoes. Right at this moment I'm sending telepathic messages to Todd in hopes that he'll come back from guitar lessons with some Cotton Patch mashed potatoes. Macaroni and cheese will also do if no mashed potatoes are available.<br /><br />My comfort drink is a mixed strawberry and Coke Icee. My mom used to bring these to me when I was sick as a kid. They're the perfect (temporary) cure for a sore throat. When I'm sick, I prefer for Icees to be brought to me without me having to ask for them. This almost never happens.<br /><br />My comfort nightgown is an old, faded red knit gown. It's long sleeved and comes down to my ankles. On the front, it has a little picture of a Scottie dog wearing a plaid vest. I've had it for at least 10 years. It's not a pretty sight, folks. But it's a dear friend.<br /><br />My comfort blanket is a patchwork quilt we got at a wedding shower. Several of the patches are coming apart at the seams. But it's the perfect weight for a sick person. You know how when you're sick, you're cold, then you're hot, and a heavy blanket is just too much? This one is just right.<br /><br />My comfort movie is "The First Wives Club." Not exactly a classic, I know. But it's funny every time I watch it, and it reminds me of my best friends. I have it on VHS, and our VCR isn't hooked up, so I guess this time I'll have to forego this comfort. Oh well. Guess that means I get a double batch of mashed potatoes instead.<br /><br />So, am I the only one? Or does anyone else have a list like this?Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13241118159105980825noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37246728.post-58666065849774307682008-01-17T08:47:00.000-08:002008-12-09T05:32:03.718-08:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm95dm-b598VAt-B7xB430G8N7uN-owvjhH1P-wvgun_rDV0j9sM-m2Xw2KKzuqxqRDtkk5hBuduVD0LEbNERidpu2dvj5Ksag7NRNfn4raH_ZMfbFZt0ap4JQnFN6aH2aaraH/s1600-h/images.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156491102220892546" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhm95dm-b598VAt-B7xB430G8N7uN-owvjhH1P-wvgun_rDV0j9sM-m2Xw2KKzuqxqRDtkk5hBuduVD0LEbNERidpu2dvj5Ksag7NRNfn4raH_ZMfbFZt0ap4JQnFN6aH2aaraH/s400/images.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>My daughter is a complete animal lover. She's not the least bit afraid of cats or dogs and will usually try to hug or kiss any animal she gets close to. We have a cat who lives outside, but he sneaks in at least once a day. I can usually find the two of them somewhere in the house together, sometimes curled up on her bed. So, part of me would really love to have an animal in the house, just for Finley's sake. But I just don't understand <em>how </em>to have an animal in the house. We used to have cats in the house before we had kids and it was a big disaster. (Shelly can attest to this, because she once sat right in a puddle of cat pee at my house. Plus, after we put the cats out of the house, my mom told me my house smelled like cats when they were inside. That info would have been more useful earlier.) All I can think of is chewed up furniture, ruined carpet, and...you know...the smell. So, pet lovers, how do you do it? How is it possible to have an animal in the house without a huge mess? </div>Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13241118159105980825noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37246728.post-57728306983371743392008-01-01T19:36:00.000-08:002008-12-09T05:32:04.214-08:00<div align="center"><br /></div><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKcpmGkE7jP0wBhnWOg0s2bUogJFQkojV5zCbgksMChuNuOeNmrL5eWJOXxpmrio4ncEX33cW7YY-6f21jq0KWtJyLgC0gWAUZ7q92BUlbw_ToD2qljBf24dC-anfxmNQ9l8PL/s1600-h/PANA0064.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150718906693237058" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKcpmGkE7jP0wBhnWOg0s2bUogJFQkojV5zCbgksMChuNuOeNmrL5eWJOXxpmrio4ncEX33cW7YY-6f21jq0KWtJyLgC0gWAUZ7q92BUlbw_ToD2qljBf24dC-anfxmNQ9l8PL/s400/PANA0064.JPG" border="0" /></a> Here he is, folks. Six years ago, I met this little guy. I knew when I saw his face, I was in for an adventure, but I really had no idea what that meant. To be honest, I was terrified at the idea of having a little boy. I had no idea what being a mother to a little boy would be like. Well, six years later, I can honestly say...<br /></div><br /><div align="center"><br /><br /></div><br /><div align="center">I have a more extensive knowledge of superheroes than any other woman I know.<br /><br />I have a jar in my cabinet with holes punched in the lid in<br />case a four legged or six legged or eight legged critter wanders by.<br /><br />I got more bloody noses and busted lips in the first 3 years of his life than in my whole life up to that point.<br /><br />I know the life cycles of caterpillars, flies, spiders, beetles,</div><div align="center">fleas, frogs and jellyfish.<br /><br />I have learned to never, ever say the words, "You're bleeding."<br /><br />I have been asked to sing the theme from "SpongeBob Square</div><div align="center">Pants" as a bedtime song.<br /><br />I've made enough capes and masks to last a lifetime.<br /><br />I have memorized the words of the <em>The Big Red Barn</em> and</div><div align="center"><em>Where the Wild Things Are</em>.<br /><br />I've wondered how I ever lived without all the kisses and hugs</div><div align="center">I get from him every day.<br /><br />I've marveled at the way his eyes crinkle up when he laughs.<br /><br />I've asked myself, "What did I do all day long before I had him?"<br /><br />Here's the thing I've learned about little boys...they grow on you. So here's to you, Jonah, my love. Thank you for all you've taught me, and continue to teach me every day. </div><div align="left"><br /> </div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5150734046452955506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHUbF2-NXCY-kpfGhYaqo7M5aTZ0vzHYMUzS0kyu56-1CzGpVM9Hh45ZfLaf5jyoAZcxf6I5Kwgf8An8Q5mF4jEY3nA-6QV9VD1-CE2PCR4_gnUw3RYV8YA15a4DXuvzCKh4ji/s400/AIR.JPG" border="0" /><br /><p align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong></strong></span></p><br /><p align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>You are human boy, my young friend.</strong></span></p><br /><p align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>A human boy.</strong></span></p><br /><p align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>O glorious to be a human boy!...</strong></span></p><br /><p align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>O running stream of sparkling joy</strong></span></p><br /><p align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>To be a soaring human boy!</strong></span></p><br /><p align="center">-Charles Dickens</p>Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13241118159105980825noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37246728.post-84629971175346571652007-12-13T07:55:00.001-08:002007-12-13T07:56:20.885-08:00Right now my baby girl is sitting in front of the TV drinking an IBC root beer from the bottle and watching "Cool Hand Luke."Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13241118159105980825noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37246728.post-1344090628811711622007-10-24T19:52:00.000-07:002007-10-24T20:54:49.716-07:00Tonight is the last night I'll spend in this house. We're moving tomorrow! Actually, we're only moving <em>out</em> tomorrow. Our "new" house won't be ready for another week. So we'll be staying with my mom until then.<br /><br />Moving has brought me low in some ways...tonight, while cleaning out my pantry, I found a Reese's Peanut Butter Egg (as in Easter egg) way back in the corner of the top shelf. I assume it was from last Easter, but it could have been from the Easter before that. I debated for about 5 seconds, then opened it. I looked it over and broke it open. (I did this because one of my best friends swears that her mother broke open a Butterfinger once and it was full of maggots.) It looked OK. I found out seconds later that it most definitely was not OK.<br /><br />I also found in the back of my freezer a popsicle wrapper that had not been opened and yet contained no popsicle. Only some gummy stains on one side. Like the Shroud of Turin.<br /><br />I wonder if I'll be homesick when we move. I wasn't homesick when we moved from our first home to this one. But it seems to me that a house is consecrated by the life you live in it.<br /><br />To this house, we brought Jonah when he was 15 months old, and put him in a big boy bed because he had leaped from his crib right before we moved. In this house, he learned the alphabet, and "The Night Before Christmas," and all the words to "If You Give a Mouse a Cookie." In this house, he learned to pray, and on our front porch he would go alone if he needed some quiet time with God. In this house, every morning, <em>every</em> <em>morning</em> for 3 whole years he awoke and said, "I want to drink hot milk and lay on the couch with Mommy, " and we did. In this house, he loved Spiderman and Batman and Superman. In this house, he <em>was</em> Spiderman and Batman and Superman. In this house, he grew tall and thin, and went from being a baby to a boy.<br /><br />In this house, I sat on the bathroom floor and wept when I found out I was pregnant with the baby who would be Finley. In this house, I prayed for her before she was ever born. And to this house we brought her after she arrived. And when she got sick at 7 days old, and she had to be put in the hospital, and we almost lost her, it was back to this house I longed to bring her. In this house, she crawled, and then walked, and then ran. In this house she lisped her first words. In this house, she fell in love with Ernie from Sesame Street. And in this house, she gave her first hugs and first kisses.<br /><br />In this house, I fought with my husband and made up with him. In this house, I laughed with him, and I laughed at him. In this house, I cried with him and prayed with him, and burned his toast, and many times forgot to do his laundry. I stood with him in our living room and said goodbye to our best friends. In this house, I saw him do things that no one, not even Todd himself, ever would have guessed he could do, like hang a ceiling fan, or tile the floor, or fix the toilet. In this house, I've watched him become the best father I've ever known.<br /><br />I've loved the life we've lived in this house. I'm about to spend my last night here. So, good night!Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13241118159105980825noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37246728.post-88107327463810540722007-10-13T05:42:00.000-07:002008-12-09T05:32:05.604-08:00<div align="left"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgo5hE8XVOymMD9nabLlZCrktt3m-tBw2p6qgMDj2-YsJHEl51ydoWB_4GbVjFbKBCWfo86ZprDSxlKDQSe_WI3EEdb7bRRj8pfYKxRz_imWTloms-PFq33KCP951FOjV2pSOi/s1600-h/S8001421.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121272898936235442" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgo5hE8XVOymMD9nabLlZCrktt3m-tBw2p6qgMDj2-YsJHEl51ydoWB_4GbVjFbKBCWfo86ZprDSxlKDQSe_WI3EEdb7bRRj8pfYKxRz_imWTloms-PFq33KCP951FOjV2pSOi/s400/S8001421.JPG" border="0" /></a> <span style="font-size:130%;">THINGS I LOVE ABOUT</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;">FINLEY WHEN SHE IS 1</span></div><div align="left"><span style="font-size:130%;"></span></div><div align="left">...the little rolls just above her knees.</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"><em>...the way she jumps without her feet ever leaving the floor.</em></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">...the way her hair looks all puffy when she wakes up.</div><div align="left"></div><div align="left"><em>...the dimples in the backs of her hands.</em></div><div align="left"></div><div align="left">...the way she wants to do everything herself.<br /></div><div align="left"><em>...her profile. It's perfect.</em><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqyROo5QlEi23MPtMb5seO7wZMcm4PrySDVUFEOT7oJef-Dg7IY927zV2dkyQjXMThTmzMvTyoeB_KzRmPXeVIRBizv9E8m0czR-Fzc3Ai-L9oNY7Uhd9ZCEcZKKGJ9hCihyphenhyphenHx/s1600-h/S8001405.JPG"><em><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121272903231202754" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqyROo5QlEi23MPtMb5seO7wZMcm4PrySDVUFEOT7oJef-Dg7IY927zV2dkyQjXMThTmzMvTyoeB_KzRmPXeVIRBizv9E8m0czR-Fzc3Ai-L9oNY7Uhd9ZCEcZKKGJ9hCihyphenhyphenHx/s400/S8001405.JPG" border="0" /></em></a><em> </em><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnVygvinIUnZ4iRcRGnTM8FgobYCaR09kPWd63_1VMpAOdWo0EEiC3SNaB4JVrxYRx8nF9IIcYsRV_JdNB_TN0ZAOu-F9lvj1P9PLkFB3TsqvWXVANPlQgpHSa1er8XMCV1ZoQ/s1600-h/S8001399.JPG"><em><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121271996993103234" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnVygvinIUnZ4iRcRGnTM8FgobYCaR09kPWd63_1VMpAOdWo0EEiC3SNaB4JVrxYRx8nF9IIcYsRV_JdNB_TN0ZAOu-F9lvj1P9PLkFB3TsqvWXVANPlQgpHSa1er8XMCV1ZoQ/s400/S8001399.JPG" border="0" /></em></a></div><div align="left">...the was she says, "aahhh" and rubs</div><div align="left">her feet when she takes off her shoes. </div><div align="left"><em>...that her love of clothes and shoes is </em><em>matched only by her love of cookies </em><em>and ice cream.</em></div><div align="left"><em>...</em>that she belly laughs at peek-a-boo.</div><div align="left">...<em>the way she gives kisses with her bottom lip sticking out.</em></div><div align="left">...that sometimes, when I put her in bed at night, she says, "Love you..." before I do.</div><div align="left"><br /><span style="font-size:180%;"></span><br /><span style="font-size:100%;"></span><br /> </div><span style="font-size:100%;"></span>Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13241118159105980825noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37246728.post-90476687651247783302007-10-03T19:37:00.000-07:002007-10-03T19:54:01.805-07:00Here are some things that have happened in the past few days: <br /><br />I fell down in the kitchen. It was one of those falls where you're walking, then you think, "Hey! I'm on the floor!"<br /><br />Finley has started stripping her diaper off at every opportunity. Yesterday I found "number 2" in various spots all over the living room. This set Jonah off, who repeatedly screamed, "I see poop!"<br /><br />Finley refused to nap today (one of the only times ever) and during the whole brouhaha, pulled every toy off her shelf, to the point that could hardly walk in there. I went in to check on her to find her diaper leaking "number 2" which got all over my arm. Later, I went to check on her again and stepped on pee.<br /><br />This evening I had to wake Todd up to go to guitar lessons, and he talked gibberish, and told me he had to put on his "belter."<br /><br />Jonah has his first loose tooth.<br /><br />We sold our house today. We'll close on Oct. 29.<br /><br />We called my mother-in-law tonight, and could hear her shouting, "A.W., you need Febreeze, you need Febreeze!"<br /><br />Today at Sonic, a girl named "NewNew" brought us our drinks.<br /><br />Jonah asked me if people would have skin in Hell.Kristenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13241118159105980825noreply@blogger.com8