tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7453551190119028352024-02-18T23:16:01.767-05:00Butterflies in my handHave you ever held butterflies in your hand? Barely there, then gone? Fleeting, aren't they? This is how life is and this is what I write about. Fleeting moments of life that pass us by, barely there and then you miss it if you aren't paying attention.Kool Aidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07996795376325872637noreply@blogger.comBlogger172125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-745355119011902835.post-46936807990605433752009-04-27T13:12:00.003-04:002009-04-27T13:18:09.513-04:00I'm moving!I'm moving out! <div> </div><div>No, not literally, figuratively. I have outgrown my "blog house" here at Blogger. Nothing against it - I've really enjoyed my little starter home - but now that my circle of friends is getting bigger, I need a bigger place for entertaining them.</div><div> </div><div>So, I'm moving to Word Press. </div><div> </div><div>Part of what precipitated the move is the writing contest I entered, but another part is the ease of use and how good looking their themes are. What can I say, I like pretty homes with big, inviting front porches.</div><div> </div><div>I'm still moving and unpacking boxes over at my new place, but visitors are always welcome. Please feel free to come by and sit on the porch. I'll have rockers and some sweet iced tea for you. </div><div> </div><div>Just don't mind the mess. </div><div> </div><div><a href="http://butterfliesinmyhand.wordpress.com/">http://butterfliesinmyhand.wordpress.com/</a>
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</div>Kool Aidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07996795376325872637noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-745355119011902835.post-68138932130925128752009-04-26T20:32:00.003-04:002009-04-26T21:06:31.216-04:00Outsmarted againYes, I have been outsmarted. Not by my husband, although he is quite intelligent. Not by my clever six-year old daughter. Nor by my three year old son. No. This time, I have been outsmarted by me.<div> </div><div>"Huh?" You ask. Yes, I know. Sounds odd, doesn't it. But it's true. Here's the story.</div><div> </div><div>Several months ago - almost a year in fact - I started looking at other outlets for my blog. Blogger works, and is sufficient, but I was really liking the appearance of some of the blogs I follow regularly and thought I'd try Word Press. I went as far as setting up an ID and claiming the "Butterflies in my hand" name on Word Press. Then I made a fateful decision.</div><div> </div><div>I decided that instead of trying to move everything over, since I'm not that computer/blogging savvy, I would just stay where I was. </div><div> </div><div>Well, since I entered into the writing contest over at <a href="http://collectiveinkwell.com/">Collective Inkwell</a>, I decided I would try and access my Word Press account in case I won the contest. Yes, I am forever hopeful that I'll win things I enter, even when I know I probably won't.</div><div> </div><div>It's been too long and I was apparently too clever with my ID and pas sword. How do I know this? Because I have two - yes, TWO - accounts with Word Press. One, I can access. It uses the same email as my blogger blog. The other, I cannot access because I can't remember the email address I created specifically for that place. And to make things even better, the "butterflies in my hand" domain is under that ever-so-cleverly-hidden email address.</div><div> </div><div>Yes, I am outsmarted again. And it's no fun. So if any of you out there knows how I can access the memory in my head of the address I was using for Word Press (surely SOMEONE out there can get me to Fringe's lab in that basement at Harvard) I would greatly appreciate it. Otherwise I might be stuck on Blogger forever. Even if I do happen to win that writing contest.</div><div> </div><div> * <span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>*<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>*<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>*<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>*<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>*</div><div>
</div><div>Just as an update, I have figured out what happened and which account I need to use. I'm hoping the powers that be over at Word Press can help me merge these two accounts or something. </div><div> </div><div>Oh, and thanks for laughing with me on this. All I needed to do was sign in under that other account. I didn't need to try and figure out the email address through yahoo. Again, outsmarted by myself. I didn't think of just trying to sign in until a few minutes ago. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div>Kool Aidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07996795376325872637noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-745355119011902835.post-49380204014733601742009-04-23T08:05:00.001-04:002009-04-23T08:08:36.415-04:00Collective Inkwell - creative fiction contest<!--StartFragment--> <p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">This is the first paragraph of a short story I wrote for a creative writing contest featured over at <a href="http://collectiveinkwell.com/">Creative Inkwell</a>. I hope you enjoy... The rest of the story can be found in the comments section of <a href="http://collectiveinkwell.com/creative-fiction-contest/">here</a>. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">
</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span style="font-family:Arial">Well, this is odd, he thought to himself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>It was as if he was watching himself from behind, like a witness, not a participant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>Everything seemed to revolve slowly around him; taxis and busses crawled by, pedestrians were mime artists moving through Jello, even the birds flew at half-speed.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent:.5in"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;">
</span></p> <!--EndFragment-->Kool Aidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07996795376325872637noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-745355119011902835.post-86029657953461668342009-04-23T07:18:00.004-04:002009-04-23T07:39:31.309-04:00Easter weekend, part 1Can you believe that it's almost the end of April? May is just around the corner. This hasn't been a banner month for me posting anything, but as any of you with children may know, the end of the school year keeps people busy. Projects and parties and stuff.<div> </div><div>But that's not all. There's also another - yes, another - consignment sale I'm participating in. Thankfully, this is the last one. All of the things that don't get sold this time around will be donated, so none of it is coming back to me. Two good things, really. Of course, I feel like all I've done in the last four weeks is dig out old toys and clothes and tag them. But in the middle of those four weeks was Easter.</div><div> </div><div>This year, Monkey had a four day weekend for Easter. And I found out back in December, I think it was, that The Dead were going to be touring again and their first show (April 12th - Easter) was going to be in a city about 20 minutes from where my dad lives. The planets were aligning just right for me to make a long weekend trip, both for me and for the grandparents. And that's not all.</div><div> </div><div>Back when I was a child, my dad took me to the Easter Sunrise service at Old Salem. It's the longest running service in America (this year marked 273). I don't remember much about it from when I was a child, but it's been on my heart for a couple of years now to try and go back. Again, the opportunity of this year's four day weekend and my plan to go to the concert gave me a chance to go back to the service, as an adult.</div><div> </div><div>I'm choosing not to go into any great detail, but suffice it to say it was moving. We started out in front of the old Moravian church, then walked a few blocks to the cemetery called God's Acre, just as the sun was peeking over the horizon. It's a very traditional service, having not changed much in the last 200 years. Although it's much more crowded now and I did see a news camera there.</div><div> </div><div>The service threatened to lose something for me when I saw the news there filming the walk to God's Acre, but I tried not to pay attention. The sacredness of something seems lost when it's filmed for the local 6:00 news. But as I stood on top of the hill, watched the sun rise and listened to the brass bands play rounds of old hymns, I found the sacredness.</div><div> </div><div>Then I went home, warmed up (it was really cold that early in the morning!!) and went back to sleep while my dad and his wife took the kids to their Easter service. A girl needs her sleep before going to a concert!</div><div> </div><div>This is the first post in what will probably be a series of three or four about Easter weekend. I have photos from our Easter egg hunt from that afternoon and a bunch from the concert. I know the weekend is fast approaching so I may not get the next post until Monday, but I will soon, promise.</div><div> </div><div>Oh, and my story for the <a href="http://collectiveinkwell.com/creative-fiction-contest/">writing contest</a> is done. I think. I'll be posting part of that here in the next few days as well. </div><div> </div><div>Hope to see you back soon!</div><div> </div>Kool Aidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07996795376325872637noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-745355119011902835.post-33183677253673873452009-04-22T15:22:00.002-04:002009-04-22T15:31:26.201-04:00Alive and kickin'I'm still here. It's been an incredibly busy couple of weeks and it's not over yet. I just thought I'd pop in to let those readers that haven't abandoned me know I'm still alive and well. <div> </div><div>I do have plenty of things to update on later: The Dead Show, Easter, the kids, homeschool updates and a <a href="http://collectiveinkwell.com/creative-fiction-contest/">writing contest</a> I'm entering.</div><div> </div><div>I hope you'll still stick around for me, or at least come back when I post again. And for those of you who write blogs that I normally visit, I promise, I'll be back. I haven't had time to read, either, so I hope you'll forgive me.</div><div> </div><div>Here's to a peaceful few weeks - and soon!</div><div> </div><div>
</div>Kool Aidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07996795376325872637noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-745355119011902835.post-30370263359416620312009-04-15T07:27:00.002-04:002009-04-15T07:32:42.524-04:00Catching upYes, I know it's been quite a while since I posted something. However, I've been a bit busy. The kids and I went out of town for Easter while Trey's work sent him to Hawaii (tough bit, that one). Sunday night, I went to the opening show for The Dead's summer tour. It was awesome!! And this week I'm getting ready for a baby shower for two of my friends that will have about 30 friends coming to my home.<div> </div><div>Yeah, it's a busy few days. </div><div> </div><div>I took lots of pictures and have lots of stories to share about the Dead show to post on my blog, and I promise, I'll get to it, but really, I have other things I have to get done around the house, first. </div><div> </div><div>I hope you'll come back!</div><div> </div><div>
</div>Kool Aidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07996795376325872637noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-745355119011902835.post-34672309933324097202009-04-06T06:33:00.004-04:002009-04-06T06:52:19.603-04:00What would you do?Technology is great. That is, until it craps out on you, then it's not so great anymore. We have an old computer and by old, I mean it's not quite four years old. It started having issues this weekend and Trey and Apple Support spent some quality time together on the phone Saturday afternoon to try and fix it. By the time he got off the phone, it was looking like all was good and back to normal.<div> </div><div>Not so much.</div><div> </div><div>I'm not sure, but I think he managed to back up at least the pictures and music while the computer was functioning properly, which is good. Trey loves music and I'm a bit of a shutterbug. I love to take pictures and one picture just won't do. He collects music like nobody's business. Let's put it this way: We have just over 7000 pictures that have been taken starting around Monkey's first year and I couldn't even begin to count the number of songs we have. Yes, we have a problem.</div><div> </div><div>Hi, my name is Kool Aid and I like to take pictures.</div><div> </div><div>Now, I know that pictures aren't supposed to replace the memories, but it's fun! It's something I enjoy and the family loves it when I remember to send them pictures that I've taken. I can't imagine losing all those pictures. </div><div> </div><div>So, for those of you who take digital pictures, what do you do to back them up? Do you use an external hard drive? Do you also back them up at an internet site? Do you just burn them to a CD or DVD? Or all of the above, making back-ups of your back-ups?</div><div> </div><div>If nothing else, this may be an excuse to get a new computer...</div><div> </div><div>
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</div></div>Kool Aidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07996795376325872637noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-745355119011902835.post-91242919451443668792009-04-03T07:28:00.002-04:002009-04-03T07:30:23.946-04:00Quote of the day<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">I don't care if there is hot lava on the floor, don't climb on the train table.</span><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"> </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;"> </span></div><div>(As Trey pointed out, only a mother would say something like that.)</div><div> </div><div> </div>Kool Aidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07996795376325872637noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-745355119011902835.post-28423634592869973512009-04-02T07:26:00.013-04:002009-04-02T07:44:02.088-04:00Locks of Love<div>Yesterday was a big day for Monkey.<div> </div><div>Last year, Monkey decided she wanted to give her hair to Locks of Love. <a href="http://www.locksoflove.org/">Locks of Love</a> is a non-profit organization that provides hair pieces to children suffering from long term medical hair loss. Her hair was already long, but she wanted to make sure that when she cut her hair, it wouldn't be "super-short," so we've been letting it grow on it's own for about 6 months or so.</div><div> </div><div>We decided that spring would be the perfect time to cut her hair because then it would be short for summer. She's been very excited about the whole process and telling people she was going to give her hair away to Locks of Love. We've even wondered about the child that might get her hair.</div><div> </div><div>She has been asking me for weeks starting at the end of February, "When are we going to get my hair cut?" Soon, just a few weeks away. Then this week she was ready. And on April Fool's day, too! So we went to my hairdresser yesterday afternoon after school. Luckily, I still had a few minutes from picking her up because I had forgotten my camera. This was something I had to document for myself and family, so I rushed home, grabbed it, then went to the salon.</div><div> </div><div>
</div></div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiizIcgDsHjPztOtkk3MZLxx-5x_cIqcUG_n8sIiw22PeQxR7Hxw1065SwYxMby68n_h0VtmEXhcEDjGCDLjc88wFCcYzgSI_VN_XdYFiQc4RNzXkKFwbZo8IYFioT-xonnunLPKoDo30M/s1600-h/locks-of-love-1.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiizIcgDsHjPztOtkk3MZLxx-5x_cIqcUG_n8sIiw22PeQxR7Hxw1065SwYxMby68n_h0VtmEXhcEDjGCDLjc88wFCcYzgSI_VN_XdYFiQc4RNzXkKFwbZo8IYFioT-xonnunLPKoDo30M/s320/locks-of-love-1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320055702622804226" /></a>
</div><div> </div><div>First, her hair had to be measured. A minimum of 10" is required to donate and she had just enough.</div><div> </div><div> </div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDiBpHyfInSCz0_RG3X2gwUp4Bl_PWhtYWJQ-OuK1PYNM7o9g5FrSieoU5YR1euiXIi2Mg-dinxmDbJoh2MUMI71pHXzrjDRVwO_EE1VscheT7x_gtmMgrOWmZoVa48uxQPyX9V9IqJdg/s1600-h/locks-of-love-2.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDiBpHyfInSCz0_RG3X2gwUp4Bl_PWhtYWJQ-OuK1PYNM7o9g5FrSieoU5YR1euiXIi2Mg-dinxmDbJoh2MUMI71pHXzrjDRVwO_EE1VscheT7x_gtmMgrOWmZoVa48uxQPyX9V9IqJdg/s320/locks-of-love-2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320055628029085154" /></a><div> </div><div>Then her hair is braided and secured on both ends.</div><div> </div><div>
<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtwR8wkU7Dyqi41dYIIcPPbMhnaLqNQYR0yzigNu34CvkP8YxKe4nnM0fZCWR7r8Z1mlQDzzKZvWF_SGcWRCt5pEf1YlgrtU6VczG2tjjGfNeZdJEp6RKEWawHIXuX5wl8agl14Kazp68/s1600-h/locks-of-love-3.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtwR8wkU7Dyqi41dYIIcPPbMhnaLqNQYR0yzigNu34CvkP8YxKe4nnM0fZCWR7r8Z1mlQDzzKZvWF_SGcWRCt5pEf1YlgrtU6VczG2tjjGfNeZdJEp6RKEWawHIXuX5wl8agl14Kazp68/s320/locks-of-love-3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320055553018435330" /></a></div><div> </div><div>The cutting began. Yes, this tore at my heart just a little because Monkey had beautiful, long, free-spirit hair and I loved it. But I'm very proud of her for doing this.</div><div> </div><div>
<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAfpEItws2_1kaaIuFetHJUKjWwBbicOp2aEHeORJhgcMOybxI7aOry90eLCIX-Mcv2ye4QlOD_9XqJGbzLYje1YAg20NXK47TfkB4Hu8yzevgSw__YJy7CIg25qdFUPnDfQY_D55ZX4Q/s1600-h/locks-of-love-4.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAfpEItws2_1kaaIuFetHJUKjWwBbicOp2aEHeORJhgcMOybxI7aOry90eLCIX-Mcv2ye4QlOD_9XqJGbzLYje1YAg20NXK47TfkB4Hu8yzevgSw__YJy7CIg25qdFUPnDfQY_D55ZX4Q/s320/locks-of-love-4.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320055485934478562" /></a></div><div> </div><div>Her pretty braid, ready to be sent to Locks of Love.</div><div> </div><div>
<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcm_iCopCYEXrDQDB6jDKL4ITYU3gS6pFFccZ6r-6jQAjT7y0WBY5laEhKeyx1IESe3_UscSQIqyAywUfkFLompEFEueVvkl0Trv73PKQt4t6Tkj1NKFPLSVbkB8A9lxPLs0tiFN6Klb0/s1600-h/lock-of-love-5.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 213px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcm_iCopCYEXrDQDB6jDKL4ITYU3gS6pFFccZ6r-6jQAjT7y0WBY5laEhKeyx1IESe3_UscSQIqyAywUfkFLompEFEueVvkl0Trv73PKQt4t6Tkj1NKFPLSVbkB8A9lxPLs0tiFN6Klb0/s320/lock-of-love-5.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5320055428774709730" /></a></div><div> </div><div>And her final "new 'do!" No more free-spirit hair, just spunky six-year-old hair, and it totally suits her.</div><div> </div><div>Oh, and while I was cleaning the junk out of my car yesterday afternoon (again!), Monkey was practicing on her bike and she started, rode and stopped all on her own, three times, I think.</div><div> </div><div>Yes, yesterday was a big day for us.</div><div> </div><div> </div>Kool Aidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07996795376325872637noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-745355119011902835.post-63410470897407010532009-04-01T07:13:00.002-04:002009-04-01T07:27:04.523-04:00NightmaresMonkey woke me up last night when she had a nightmare. It was, I dunno, around 2 am. When I heard her feet shuffling in (and felt the cat scatter away from her sleeping spot) I figured it was Little Man, but no, it was Monkey. She asked if I'd get into bed with her and since it's been a long time since she'd asked, I said OK. But just for a little while. My kidneys tend to get bruised when we actually sleep in the same bed. I'm still recovering from our week of visiting family.<div> </div><div>Anyway, it got me to thinking. What do children have nightmares about? Not enough cake at the birthday party so they don't get a slice? A bully at school? I never ask Monkey what her nightmares are because I don't want them to linger in her mind any more than they already do. And remembering dreams is so difficult anyway.</div><div> </div><div>But, still, I wonder.</div><div> </div><div>She's in a stable home, she has loving parents, clothes, food, toys out the wazoo, a pesky brother. From my perspective, anyway, her life seems pretty good, so what would she have to be afraid of? I'm not naive enough to think that all children are this lucky. I'm know that there are children all over this world that have legitimate nightmares and may possibly be living those nightmares out. That is terrible and a whole other topic. It's not my intent to travel down that road first thing this morning. </div><div> </div><div>I remember having nightmares as a kid. I had a recurring one that was, in hindsight more strange than scary, and had to do with being stuck on the furniture because the floor was hot lava with some big monster chasing me and I had to jump from couch to chair to steamer trunk to get away. Yes, I was a creative child.</div><div> </div><div>Monkey is a creative child, too. So what does her vivid imagination create for her at night that scares her? I don't know, but I'm glad she still comes to get me.</div><div> </div><div>
</div>Kool Aidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07996795376325872637noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-745355119011902835.post-52317454422735849712009-03-31T12:11:00.002-04:002009-03-31T12:24:40.931-04:00Life's interruptions<div>I have a few minutes to catch up on my blog. Let's see... I took Little Man to the doctor last week and found that he has a double ear infection. Oh.... hang on.... the phone is ringing.
</div><div> </div><div> </div><div>Ok, now I'm back. As I was saying, Little Man has an ear infection. He kept complaining about bugs in his ears. Yeah, I have creative children. Oops.... there goes the door.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div>I'm back. Anyway, he's doing much better these days. Now if only I can remember to give him his medicine twice a day! I've also been getting things ready for this big consignment sale this week. I just dropped a van-full of toys and clothes to the sale yesterday and the presale starts tomorrow. Oh, crap. I can't finish this now, I have to type up something for the PTA. Back later.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div>Well, that's done. As I was saying, I have things in this big sale. Last fall, when I participated, I think I made about $250-$300 from it. I can't remember exactly, because I use that same money for buying clothes and things for the kids during the year. I'm hoping for a good sale this time around, too. I've also been spending a lot of time researching materials for home schooling next year. Monkey and I are both excited about it. Right now, I'm focusing on Science and History. You'd be amazed at how much information is out there. Well, I'll have to catch up with this in a while because I have to get some laundry done.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div>I only have a minute because now I have to run to the store. Man, having a blog to keep up is a bit time-consuming. I just don't know how other people do it. I follow writers that post daily. Either I'm too busy or just not that creative. Anyway, folks, I'll do my best to keep writing. I hope you'll have patience with me.</div><div> </div><div>
</div>Kool Aidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07996795376325872637noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-745355119011902835.post-66684970824511389862009-03-23T11:48:00.002-04:002009-03-23T11:58:55.270-04:00Sick dayToday we're having a "sick day." Moms don't usually get sick days, but their kids do. Little Man got sick yesterday. I'm not sure with what, but he had a fever when he woke up from his nap and didn't want to eat.<div> </div><div>My guess is that we were going and going so much last week that his little immune system just got plum tuckered out. So we gave him some medicine and sent him to bed at his normal time. We thought he was starting to feel better because he played his normal "get out of bed every 3 minutes" routine before finally going to sleep.</div><div> </div><div>Then sometime around 2:00 am, he came to wake me up because his pajamas were wet. My first groggy thought was his pullups leaked, but he said it was his shirt. My second guess was water leaked out of his sippy cup. Then I got a whiff of that harsh acidic smell of vomit.</div><div> </div><div>Great.</div><div> </div><div>So I get up to check his bed and discover that it's all over his pillow by sticking my hand in it. It's no fun to stick your hand in cold vomit at two in the morning, just so ya know. I say a little prayer of thanks that he didn't aspirate on his vomit while sleeping and, with one eye open (which is probably why I stuck my hand in vomit), I got his clothes and his bed linens changed. I then got him more medicine because I noticed while changing him how hot his little body was and sent him back to bed, again with prayers that he wouldn't get sick again. </div><div> </div><div>He slept through the rest of the night. He hasn't been vomiting again, but he still had his fever when he fell asleep on our bed this morning. He's since been moved to his bed and he's still sleeping.</div><div> </div><div>Oh, and I have a headache and a sore throat. Gee, it's good to be home.</div><div> </div><div> </div>Kool Aidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07996795376325872637noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-745355119011902835.post-51401662812829284352009-03-16T20:21:00.002-04:002009-03-16T20:44:04.337-04:00Hello world. I have about 40 minutes left to complete this post and catch up on my reader from Sunday morning, which means there are probably 235 more entries that I won't get to read before the night is done. You see, people, I'm visiting family and we're staying with my uncle who is still in the ... ummm ... pre-computer age? I don't even know which decade to fill in there, but he has no computer, thus no internet. <div> </div><div>Do you have any idea how strange and frustrating it is to not have access to the internet? I had to resort to using a phone book for goodness sakes! And actually CALLING someone to get directions to their location, find out how much admission is, and so forth. Wait, I think I may have lost some of you. We're visiting family, which means we're also in a house that doesn't have anything to keep a 6 and a 3 year old entertained but the TV. Not to mention the family driving in to visit and bringing twin 4 year old cousins to see Monkey and Little Man.</div><div> </div><div>Thank goodness dear ol' mom had a crack-I mean-Blackberry, so that I could sorta google indoor play for children in the city where we are. I was able to at least get a name and a number of a bounce house, although the number on the webpage wasn't the right one. Hence, needing the phonebook. Since I'm not all that familiar with using her blackberry, I just called the location to verify what little info I was able to get from mom's phone and get directions and such. </div><div> </div><div>I decided to go early to the bounce house because it was 9:30 am and I was already being driven crazy by the boy. I grabbed my laptop on a whim and guess what? They had Wi-Fi there! YIPPEE! Only, I couldn't get it to hook up to the computer right. I still don't know what happened but it wouldn't work. Not even on my iTouch. Bummer. So after a little while longer we went back to my uncle's to meet Mawmaw and Pawpaw and Aunt Pat (not her real name) who were bringing my nieces. </div><div> </div><div>So after lunch with the family, we went back and stayed until closing. I'm so glad they were able to make it. I hadn't seen them since last summer some time and so I was able to talk and catch up with them and Monkey and Little Man had great fun with their cousins and seeing their grandparents and great aunt. </div><div> </div><div>So, it's been more than 24 hours without internet. Thankfully, the kids, after today's running and jumping, went to bed and I was able to escape to the local library. I owe Hayden big time for pointing me in the right direction (thanks, girl!!). So, while I'm able to update on my blog, time is running out and I'm having to divide my time between this, facebook, twitter and homeschool research. I'm not sure how much time I'll have for any of these things.</div><div> </div><div>Isn't it amazing how much we have come to rely on the internet? Not necessarily for social stuff like social network sites and blogs, but for simple things like finding something to do or getting directions to a certain place. I was shocked, and a little ashamed, that I was so lost without internet access today when I was trying to think of something to do on a rainy day. I admit, I'm an internet junky. This week just goes to show me how much I've come to depend on it. I follow my friends on social network sites, read status updates and blogs and use it for simple information retrieval.</div><div> </div><div>So, could you go without the internet? And for how long? Well, I have to go. They're kicking the library patrons out - it's closing time.... (oh, and Hayden, when I have more time, I'll come back and link to you ;) ).</div><div> </div><div>
</div>Kool Aidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07996795376325872637noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-745355119011902835.post-32099745132125276602009-03-13T12:25:00.003-04:002009-03-13T12:39:35.921-04:00Decisions...I have a decision to make. It's not an easy one but it's one that thousands of people face.<div> </div><div>I have an old dog. She's 14 and a half years old which is very old for her size and breed. She has something going on with her hip and she doesn't bear much weight on her right hind leg. X-rays would be too expensive and would only serve to confirm that she has a problem. Even if it was "fixable" through surgery, I would not put her through that. She's just too old. </div><div> </div><div>She's on medication for the pain now, and I do notice a difference. She's more comfortable and a little more like herself, although she still has an obvious limp. So while the medicine may be helping, it's not getting rid of the pain altogether. </div><div> </div><div>The problem I'm having with all this is that I would like to know what's actually going on inside her hip. Is it cancer? Is it arthritis? Is there a bone spur? What is it? Knowing what it is isn't really going to solve the problem, as I said before. It's just that I want to KNOW. I want to know if it's cancer or arthritis. But that would just be satisfying my own curiosity. It wouldn't really help her. My knowing what's causing the problem isn't going to fix the problem.</div><div> </div><div>So we're in a holding pattern now, giving her medicine to help her stay comfortable and less painful. She's still getting excited about eating, so I know she's feeling better, but at what point am I medicating her for me? Where is the line that delineates my wishful thinking and her quality of life? At what point will I KNOW that she's ready to go chase bunnies in the sky?</div><div> </div><div>I'll be gone for the next week, visiting family (so I may not be here often) and she isn't coming with me and the kids. She's hanging out here with Trey and the puppy - who still irritates the snot out of her - so I'm hoping she'll be able to maintain until I get back. The last time I left town for a long trip without Trey, our very old cat died. That's not setting a good precedent.</div><div> </div><div>But still, having that decision hanging over my head.... It's no fun.</div>Kool Aidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07996795376325872637noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-745355119011902835.post-85378931355731062612009-03-11T15:23:00.002-04:002009-03-11T15:40:22.281-04:00Do you remember...<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2017/2260400015_2bb70f2b84.jpg?v=0"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 500px; height: 375px;" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2017/2260400015_2bb70f2b84.jpg?v=0" border="0" alt="" /></a><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: small;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">photo by <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/lachicana/">lachicana</a></span></span></div><div> </div><div>
Do you remember.... <div> </div><div>rotary phones?</div><div> </div><div>when record players had 3 speeds? </div><div> </div><div>dual cassette decks?</div><div>
</div><div>cassette tapes and cassette singles?</div><div> </div><div>8 track tapes? (A good friend of mine had one in her room when we were kids - shout out to e.s.!)</div><div> </div><div>life before microwaves?</div><div> </div><div>when cable only had 40 or so channels?</div><div> </div><div>when you could play outside until the street lamps came on?</div><div> </div><div>teachers could still hug their students in elementary school?</div><div> </div><div>when TVs were in black and white?</div><div> </div><div>or when TVs were those big consoles?</div><div> </div><div>when VCRs and Beta players were competing?</div><div> </div><div>cd's were the "new thing"?</div><div> </div><div>when you could buy laser disc movies?</div><div> </div><div>life before the internet? and cell phones?</div><div> </div><div>crank windows in cars (did you know they still make cars with crank windows???)?</div><div> </div><div>when gas was $0.79/gallon?</div><div> </div><div>cartoons were only on TV on Saturday mornings? </div><div> </div><div>when MTV actually played music videos?</div><div> </div><div> </div><div>I know there's an email floating around with a lot of these, but these are all from my own experience/childhood. I know if I had more than a few minutes to think about it, I'd have more to add, but I have chores waiting for me. So, what do you remember from your own childhood that isn't part of the "norm" any more? </div><div> </div><div>
</div></div>Kool Aidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07996795376325872637noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-745355119011902835.post-74009318541596534012009-03-05T15:38:00.007-05:002009-03-05T16:00:21.807-05:00He's improving his aimPotty training a boy is a completely foreign thing to me. I'm sure it has something to do with the fact that I don't pee standing up, but that's beside the point. He's been in underwear for a little over a month now and it's gone much more successfully than it did last summer when we tried it. I'm sure it helps that he's older and his buddies at school are also in the middle of potty training.<div> </div><div>Little Man has gotten to where he doesn't want me anywhere near him when he's in the bathroom. He yells at me to "get out" whenever I try to go in there with him, so I just stand by the door, usually, to make sure he's actually going. The last time I did that, I heard him going, but it didn't sound like anything was hitting the water in the toilet. Let's just say his aim was a little off. Maybe we need to throw cheerios in the toilet again, for target practice.</div><div> </div><div>I'm sure it's payback for me laughing at a friend of mine whose son was training last year. He had a tendency to "mark his territory" whenever he was going to the bathroom - even at our house. Needless to say, I keep the bathroom pretty clean out of necessity since Little Man is still working to improve his aim. Which is ironic since I don't like to clean.</div><div> </div><div>But just the other day, I didn't stay by the door. He has closed it so he could have his privacy and I was sitting on the couch playing solitaire. I heard the toilet flush, he stepped out, closed the door loudly behind him and pronounced to the world "I'm a BIG boy!"</div><div> </div><div>I laughed.</div><div> </div><div>So it goes, so it goes. </div><div> </div><div>
</div>Kool Aidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07996795376325872637noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-745355119011902835.post-72601677476965673062009-03-01T18:43:00.002-05:002009-03-01T18:48:20.795-05:00A new parenting tipWhen the kids have way too much energy from staying inside all day long when the weather is nasty outside, it helps when you or your spouse has been through boot camp.<div> </div><div>Tonight, the kids have done:</div><div> </div><div>suicides</div><div> </div><div>wind sprints</div><div> </div><div>push ups</div><div> </div><div>mountain climbers</div><div> </div><div>leg lifts</div><div> </div><div>squat thrusts</div><div> </div><div>arm circles</div><div> </div><div>jumping jacks</div><div> </div><div>And like the Energizer Bunny, they just keep going and going and.....</div><div> </div><div>
</div>Kool Aidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07996795376325872637noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-745355119011902835.post-47450054508386639432009-02-27T07:36:00.005-05:002009-02-27T08:22:00.893-05:00Top 10 mommy listMy blogger friend Tara gave me this idea of a top 10 list. Her list was a <a href="http://stickyfingers1.blogspot.com/2009/01/10-things-i-say-all-time.html">top 10 of things she says all the time.</a> I think I'm gonna switch it to a Top 10 List of things I thought I would never say. Enjoy (and how many of these things have you said, too?)<div> </div><div>10. Wait until your daddy gets home.</div><div> </div><div>9. Yes, you do have to go outside and play.</div><div> </div><div>8. I'm gonna jerk a knot in you.</div><div> </div><div>7. You'll poke your eye out.</div><div> </div><div>6. Finish that cheeseburger if you want dessert.</div><div> </div><div>5. Because I said so, that's why.</div><div> </div><div>4. Sure, you can watch another movie.</div><div> </div><div>3. We'll see.</div><div> </div><div>2. How about we bake cookies for a snack?</div><div> </div><div>1. You kids are making me crazy!</div><div> </div><div>And just to balance the tables, here is a top 10 list of things I always say, even if I have to force myself to whenever I'm having one of "those" days:</div><div> </div><div>10. Good job!</div><div> </div><div>9. Please.</div><div> </div><div>8. Thank you.</div><div> </div><div>7. I'm very proud of you.</div><div> </div><div>6. Can I have a hug and/or kiss?</div><div> </div><div>5. You're my bestest boy/girl.</div><div> </div><div>4. Are you making good choices?</div><div> </div><div>3. Let's go show Daddy.</div><div> </div><div>2. Tell me a story.</div><div> </div><div>1. I love you.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div>What's on your top 10 list?</div><div> </div><div> </div><div>
</div>Kool Aidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07996795376325872637noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-745355119011902835.post-32520060287077873712009-02-25T22:09:00.005-05:002009-02-26T06:05:11.135-05:00Sorry, can't think of a title.<div>(Sorry about the title, I'm just not that creative tonight)</div><div> </div>It's cold in our house. Why, you ask? Because our furnace isn't on. It's not working properly and it's old and it's leaking water around the base and carbon monoxide into the house. So it's not running tonight.<div> </div><div>On a side note, this explains why I've been getting terrible headaches and that overall yucky feeling over the last few days. (No, Daddy, we haven't had the CO detector plugged in - it's still in a box somewhere). I think I'm more sensitive, though, because Trey and the kids haven't really been effected. Unless CO makes kids fight with each other and not share and just be all-around normal kids.</div><div> </div><div>As much as it sucks to be cold, today it was actually kinda nice out and it won't get that cold tonight, so it could be worse. "That cold" meaning below 35. Trey brought home a space heater from his work and we've been moving it back and forth between all our bedrooms.</div><div> </div><div>So tomorrow we're getting a brand-spanking-new furnace installed. That should be fun. Just in time for winter to be over. Murphy's Law really sucks.</div><div> </div><div>* * * * *</div><div> </div><div>We're done, for now at least, with the kitchen. If I can keep it straightened up long enough, I'll take a couple of "after" shots and make a nice pretty post about it. Of course, now that we have the walls and trim painted, we're thinking we want to paint the cabinets. Yeah, that should be fun.</div><div> </div><div>* * * * *</div><div> </div><div>I'm participating in another really big consignment sale coming up next month. I need to get everything tagged before the 14th so I can order the bar codes. Because of that, I won't be around too much in the next couple of weeks. I have some posts that I'll hopefully be able to get together and get out, but if I'm not around, it's not because I don't love you.
</div><div> </div><div>Off to curl up under an old down comforter. Hope it doesn't get really cold tonight, like they said it wouldn't.</div><div> </div>Kool Aidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07996795376325872637noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-745355119011902835.post-24616905434180357902009-02-24T05:57:00.005-05:002009-02-24T08:13:35.171-05:00The homeschool updateA couple of weekends ago, we received a letter addressed to Monkey about some area magnet schools in our town. At first, I was more curious about how we landed on the list to get their open house mailer, but after talking to friends, I found that it's sent out to all the children registered in our county (that's a LOT of paper, friends). So I started looking at one of them online - an honors academy for elementary children.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space:pre"> </span>Children had to test in the 85% or better to attend and they seemed to have a very creative program for kids. The problem was, it was about a 20 minute drive in a questionable part of town.
<div> </div><div>But because I like to give the benefit of the doubt, I still planned to go to the open house. I thought that maybe we could enroll Monkey in the honors program instead of me trying to piece together my own honors curriculum. I arranged for Little Man to go hang out with his buddy and hit the road. It was an easy drive - interstate the whole way - and it took just over 20 minutes. But because of the location and the interchanges between the highways, the potential for early morning traffic issues was definitely there.</div><div> </div><div>When I arrived, however, I didn't even get out of the car. First impressions are quite often the only impression and my first impression of the school and the neighborhood were not good. Yes, I was willing to give the school the benefit of the doubt, but not risk the safety of my child. While I'm sure the school administration takes steps to take care of it's children, there are just some situations that given the choice (and we're blessed to have a choice) I would rather not be a part of. I know that I'm being judgmental and I'm not quite happy with myself on that note, but unfortunately that's how things are. I have to do what I think is best for my family and the long drive twice a day and a questionable neighborhood is not on the list.</div><div> </div><div>So, even though I wasn't really off the homeschool train, I'm now much more confident about it. I've been researching different curriculums, trying to find something that will suit and challenge Monkey and still be fun for both of us. Little Man was registered for preschool for the fall and he'll be at his school M/W/F and the enrichment program for Monkey will be on M/W so I'll still have some time off for myself to get things done during the day that I don't want to have to do at night or the off days that Trey is home. </div><div> </div><div>There is an unbelievable amount of information out there on different homeschool curriculums. Now what I have to do is start to narrow it down. Thankfully, I have good friends who have done this before, so while I'm doing some research on my own, I'm not reinventing the wheel. My dear friend, we'll call her Lori, is homeschooling her 2nd grader now and will be teaching both of her daughters in the fall. At this time last year, she was buried in curriculums and programs and books and thankfully, because of all her hard work, I'm able to just follow the links she gave me. Lori's daughter also attends the enrichment program that Monkey will be going to, so I've been able to get a lot of information about that as well.</div><div> </div><div>So now I'm hoping that the curriculum I piece together will be the right one - fun, challenging and easy for me to teach. If any of you are homeschooling your child/children, I'd love to get your feedback on the curriculum you use and why you chose it. </div><div> </div>Kool Aidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07996795376325872637noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-745355119011902835.post-89282593435300947632009-02-19T10:40:00.005-05:002009-02-19T10:58:06.162-05:00quote of the dayI'm still working on my kitchen today, so it's hard to type and sand/spackle/paint all at the same time. So, while I'm waiting for the spackle to dry so I can sand some more, I thought I'd share a quote with you.<div> </div><div>It comes from a set of prints my mom gave us. The artist is Brian Andreas and he has a collection he calls the <a href="http://www.storypeople.com/storypeople/Home.do">Story People</a>. They are bright and colorful; fun prints that brighten any room. This quote is from one called <a href="http://www.storypeople.com/storypeople/WebStory.do?action=Show&storyID=1330&pageIndex=0&minRow=191&storyInSearch=200&productCategoryID=1000">No Regret</a>. </div><div> </div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">I sometimes wake in the </span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">early morning & listen to the </span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">soft breathing of my children</span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">& I think to myself,</span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">This is one thing I'll never regret</span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;">& I carry that quiet with me all day long.</span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style=""><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size:large;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style=" font-style: italic;font-size:18px;">
</span></div>Kool Aidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07996795376325872637noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-745355119011902835.post-76626016838675186762009-02-17T19:31:00.002-05:002009-02-17T19:43:34.555-05:00He stole a pancake<div>Sunday morning, something funny happened in a not-so-funny way. The kids were eating pink pancakes (I made extra pink pancakes on Saturday so they could also have some on Sunday) and I was downstairs catching up on my emails while they ate. I usually get a good 5-10 minutes uninterrupted, depending on what they're eating.</div><div> </div>Monkey has this habit of getting up in the middle of breakfast and dashing to the bathroom. One would think that she would get that bit of business taken care of beforehand, but not so.<div> </div><div>She came back to the table (after cleaning up, of course) and I hear, "Little Man!"</div><div> </div><div>Monkey walked downstairs, calling for me, and I could tell by her tone that she was barely holding it together. </div><div> </div><div>"What's up?" I ask, thinking any number of things that Little Man could have done.</div><div> </div><div>"Little Man ate my last bite of pancakes,"</div><div> </div><div>"Really? He really did that?" This was not on my list of things that Little Man could have done.</div><div> </div><div>"Yeah, he really did."</div><div> </div><div>Oh man, what to do. Well, he can't really give it back, now can he? So we go upstairs and have as reasonable a conversation as anyone can with a 3 year old about how it's not nice to take food from another person's plate, not even his sister.</div><div> </div><div>But I have to wonder if she'll be leaving her plate of pancakes unprotected again.</div><div> </div><div> </div>Kool Aidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07996795376325872637noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-745355119011902835.post-8616526970133770302009-02-16T06:52:00.004-05:002009-02-16T07:05:18.377-05:00future topics teaserYes, I have done the unthinkable in the blogging world. I have gone 8 days without writing a post. That's bad, I know, but it's been one of those weeks. Nothing has really happened that was worth writing about and I really don't want to bore my readers with the mundane things like "today, I folded laundry. Woo hoo!" But this weekend, several different things happened so, like a good blogger should, I'm hanging on to them and posting about them separately and spreading them out so at least it looks like I'm a productive blogger.<div> </div><div>There was a conversation/event between Little Man and Monkey that was pretty funny in a not-so-funny sort of way. </div><div> </div><div>I received something in the mail that could be another option for Monkey's education next year.</div><div> </div><div>We're painting and cosmetically upgrading two different areas of the house - the office downstairs and the kitchen upstairs. Yes, I know it sounds funny to say the kitchen is upstairs, but we have a split foyer, so there.</div><div> </div><div>Oh, and I have a post idea that was given to me by Mawmaw (my mother-in-law) about something that happened to them that paralleled something that happened to us. </div><div> </div><div>So, assuming I can find time in the day when I'm not doing laundry, painting, prepping, working, taking care of the kids, cooking dinner, cleaning and organizing the office and the kitchen as well as normal day-to-day housecleaning , then I'll be typing away at my future posts.</div><div> </div><div>And to help me out for future blogging, please feel free to leave topic suggestions in the comments area. </div><div> </div><div>
</div>Kool Aidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07996795376325872637noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-745355119011902835.post-48035773644201768502009-02-08T08:30:00.002-05:002009-02-08T09:18:47.443-05:00Daddies and daughtersI've mentioned this before, I think, but sometimes I take pictures for our church. I'm not a great photographer but occasionally, I'll get lucky and snap some really cool shots. There are still some things I'm trying to learn about my camera and taking pictures; technical things, like adjusting the aperture, shutter speed, exposure. But it's fun and sometimes, as I said, I get lucky and find that "money" shot.<div> </div><div>Last night I felt a little like Ashton Kutcher from the wedding Nikon commercial, getting great shots (although I didn't knock over any champagne glasses). That is, when my head wasn't imploding with frustration trying to get those great shots. And I <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: italic;">really</span> wanted to get those great shots.</div><div> </div><div>You see, last night I was a part of something few moms ever get to see. It made me laugh, smile, grin, giggle and even feel the sting of tears. I found myself watching my dear friends' husbands and daughters and holding them even more dear than I did before because of what I was seeing. I was able to observe, somewhat anonymously, daddies and their daughters laughing and playing and being silly. Last night, our church had their 11th Annual Father Daughter Dance.</div><div> </div><div>There's just something special about a relationship between a daddy and his daughter. If you are a parent, you already understand that there are bonds between a daddy and his daughter and a mommy and her son. There's just no explaining it. The fact that there were at least two scheduled Daddy Daughter dances last night (our church and one at a hotel downtown) is a simple proof that it's there. (On a side note, there was also a Monster Truck Jam this weekend, for the Mommies and Sons.)</div><div> </div><div>So last night I show up a little before all the other dads and daughters to practice taking pictures with my camera. As any place decorated for a dance should be, the lighting was low, with some stage lights (we had a DJ) and a few white Christmas lights for decoration. As people started showing up, I started taking pictures. It was very frustrating at first - little girls don't tend to stand still - but I started getting the hang of it. The nicest thing about a digital camera is seeing the shot after it's taken and being able to take hundreds (I took, literally, about 400 pictures last night) and just deleting the ones that were no good. I think I'll be deleting a lot.</div><div> </div><div>As the night wore on, I can't even begin to tell you what it was like. I almost feel like I'd be betraying some big secret if I talked too much about what happened. Like it's some secret society and the rituals involved can't be discussed outside it's members. I can tell you that I saw daddies dancing with their daughters without any hesitation about how they thought they looked. No one seemed self-conscious about it at all. They all looked like they were having a great time with their daughters. Trey tried to get Monkey to dance some early on, but she was feeling a little bit shy. It took her a while to get warmed up to dancing and, naturally, it was a Hannah Montana song that got them out on the dance floor.</div><div> </div><div>The ages of the daughters ranged from about one year old and still figuring out that their legs can do more than just walk, to a mom dancing with her daddy, but I'd say the majority of the girls' ages fell between 4 and 14. The girls were all dressed up in their fancy valentine dresses and the daddies were in suits, tuxedos that matched their daughters' dresses and I did see one in an Air Force uniform. There's just something about a man in uniform!</div><div> </div><div>I'm so glad that I was there last night. It was something special and wonderful and I won't soon forget it. I can't wait to start culling the pictures I took and I hope I find those "money" shots of all those daddies and daughters.</div><div> </div><div>
</div>Kool Aidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07996795376325872637noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-745355119011902835.post-67379542239925565532009-02-04T07:25:00.008-05:002009-02-04T08:13:40.373-05:00Monkey's photos<div>I'm finally feeling human again and since the kids are out of school AGAIN today, I thought I'd park them in front of the cartoons and update my blog. Great parenting, I know, but it's only 7:00 in the morning. I have all day to get them moving.<div> </div><div>As I said before, Tara, over at <a href="http://stickyfingers1.blogspot.com/">Sticky Fingers</a>, photo tagged me. The rules are go to the folders you keep your digital pictures in, find the fourth folder, look at the fourth picture and tell about it then link back to who tagged you and tag four more people. I've done this before, a while back, but I wasn't organized enough to do it right, so I just picked a random picture. We use a Mac and all our pics are in iPhoto and we don't normally create separate albums - I know we should, but we don't. A few months ago, we created albums for Disney, Christmas and pictures that Monkey had taken with her camera. That was my fourth album. I hadn't gone any further than that.</div><div> </div><div>So, the fourth picture in the folder was this one:</div><div> </div></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb_5F3OJCC1sBKdLaWMX5gDjmjCAP81ww5WvrI8p4g8R4_nugdKDDVVKQsSWaoviyU4Jh6HjlJKmvWGgK0U0RT4emhITDQDLGo2KchgzjeBgzo7PkMyGyTWo2sXMbE_VPKI8vLsrIVOVg/s1600-h/monkey-1.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb_5F3OJCC1sBKdLaWMX5gDjmjCAP81ww5WvrI8p4g8R4_nugdKDDVVKQsSWaoviyU4Jh6HjlJKmvWGgK0U0RT4emhITDQDLGo2KchgzjeBgzo7PkMyGyTWo2sXMbE_VPKI8vLsrIVOVg/s320/monkey-1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298919607798188994" /></a><div> </div><div>She went around the day Trey gave her his old digital camera and took pictures of EVERYTHING. She staged her toys, followed the cat around, took goofy pictures of me and Trey, photographed photographs, went outside and took pictures of flowers and weeds and plants. I think she took 50 pictures that day. In the space of about 30 minutes. </div><div> </div><div>Here is a small selection of her portfolio.</div><div>
<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmCPfVg6G-IHiq-e1i8CxUB_j8jpnhVtJDDr_U4iuzSYs5LZWURRZepiXpUwlw5wRVUwLPlSjUpe-JLafnSRY7Q4T1ZXFg9yMwU4Vs8zkbGlDCokhyphenhyphenPwKUPRu2jLORG_Zi8Q_08lQsYzc/s1600-h/monkey-2.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmCPfVg6G-IHiq-e1i8CxUB_j8jpnhVtJDDr_U4iuzSYs5LZWURRZepiXpUwlw5wRVUwLPlSjUpe-JLafnSRY7Q4T1ZXFg9yMwU4Vs8zkbGlDCokhyphenhyphenPwKUPRu2jLORG_Zi8Q_08lQsYzc/s320/monkey-2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298919606720834962" /></a></div><div> </div><div>
<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji9uE2LEtN-28KQ7mmPQ5mRr_rMEHBLazAFcjUVffn_gJQDJAXpvXHK5Q0zF9fhcilP2I6u5YO2tBpPabGwX-ZTLEXzyH4g5EaNbuh6qgS8h3ZWcZOSAiDFmOiBDHmcRkMV9Oc2NcTtI4/s1600-h/monkey-3.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji9uE2LEtN-28KQ7mmPQ5mRr_rMEHBLazAFcjUVffn_gJQDJAXpvXHK5Q0zF9fhcilP2I6u5YO2tBpPabGwX-ZTLEXzyH4g5EaNbuh6qgS8h3ZWcZOSAiDFmOiBDHmcRkMV9Oc2NcTtI4/s320/monkey-3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298919600417630946" /></a></div><div> </div><div>
</div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmu76SpiUKMcMmG2OFdPjeBdcl3b-OeF8N48X6b_iPz0jzesi95nwigwXmTituhIEv_YmDBKvKjSpsLi6j1UjYrq2uOJS-TlRqhPZ_sNw3vIxIjZhRgQYal8AgxfEX4lNpRJy4_Uw4vjg/s1600-h/monkey-4.jpg" style="text-decoration: none;"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmu76SpiUKMcMmG2OFdPjeBdcl3b-OeF8N48X6b_iPz0jzesi95nwigwXmTituhIEv_YmDBKvKjSpsLi6j1UjYrq2uOJS-TlRqhPZ_sNw3vIxIjZhRgQYal8AgxfEX4lNpRJy4_Uw4vjg/s320/monkey-4.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298919600143424866" /></a></div><div> </div><div> </div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH7IdjOORUKILeMSN2VEY5am3DV_M2igd7bSyOQWWyNkWBrMT_FqEUjb5Z8Aa8P4oqX2Kfk4yZmkciJ-oX2UGBPsK05huldqm6eVoy4ygvpdwrSLQqkE2CelpIaD6Jj49z_cnqaSne-bI/s1600-h/monkey-5.jpg"><img style="cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH7IdjOORUKILeMSN2VEY5am3DV_M2igd7bSyOQWWyNkWBrMT_FqEUjb5Z8Aa8P4oqX2Kfk4yZmkciJ-oX2UGBPsK05huldqm6eVoy4ygvpdwrSLQqkE2CelpIaD6Jj49z_cnqaSne-bI/s320/monkey-5.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298919599890185330" /></a>
<div>However, I realized when I opened up Photoshop, to add my watermark to her pictures, that in Photoshop, everything is in folders already. So I was able to go through and (sorta) follow the instructions. I say "sorta" because there are some pictures of family and friends that I won't post because I don't have their permission and so forth, so I had to fudge it a little. This picture is actually from the third folder, the fourth folder in that folder and the fourth picture of that folder. </div><div> </div><div>It's an old one and I'm not really surprised I landed on it. First, it's a good example why Monkey is called Monkey (she was a year old when this picture was taken) and it was taken at my Great Aunt's farm in Pennsylvania. She just passed week ago yesterday. My daddy's side of the family has a reunion in Pa. every year. We try to go every year, but haven't been in the last three years for a variety of reasons, so she never got to meet Little Man, but she enjoyed Monkey. She still maintained a small vegetable garden and she had a wildly crazy boarder collie that would chase balls all. day. long. She was a spunky ol' farm girl with a clear head and a kind heart. She will be missed.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTm4SVXJF8_eAutujjH135ph5dQvMjbeUMd5uCImUsZM5FErhS-a_Pujsl-Sx7r4lD6c7LQ-S2F87SBPDvS8IC2_bzrssV2241z0kJw1cTZfXyS8BqJFNle_gm_B-oLK_bG5zfa7rzYIg/s1600-h/monkey-6.jpg"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTm4SVXJF8_eAutujjH135ph5dQvMjbeUMd5uCImUsZM5FErhS-a_Pujsl-Sx7r4lD6c7LQ-S2F87SBPDvS8IC2_bzrssV2241z0kJw1cTZfXyS8BqJFNle_gm_B-oLK_bG5zfa7rzYIg/s320/monkey-6.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5298924523528037410" style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px; " /></a></div></div><div> </div><div> </div><div>Now, for the tagging. Hmmm.... I'm trying to think of who I haven't tagged in the past so here goes. <a href="http://www.acricketinagarden.com/tobeme/">Tammy</a>, <a href="http://www.thesassykathy.com/">Kathryn</a>, <a href="http://passingthru.com/">Betsy</a> and <a href="http://oktober5.com/">Ryan</a>. I don't know if any of you have done this photo tag before or not. I tried going back several posts and didn't see anything, so if this is a repeat from the past for you, my apologies.</div><div> </div><div> </div>Kool Aidhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07996795376325872637noreply@blogger.com7