<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531498812378704022</id><updated>2011-07-07T15:45:58.260-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's always funnier when it happens to me</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17986232781033357417</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/R_W-uHNLZXI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ixA-tuDJJrs/S220/DSC00685.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>34</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531498812378704022.post-5834611502578679857</id><published>2009-07-10T16:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-10T16:13:26.492-07:00</updated><title type='text'>P</title><content type='html'>Pat passed his National Dental Boards Part 1!  He did an awesome job, though apparently he doesn't want his score to be posted on the www.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stay tuned for the highly anticipated sequel/final chapter of this drama in 2011.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4531498812378704022-5834611502578679857?l=itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/feeds/5834611502578679857/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4531498812378704022&amp;postID=5834611502578679857' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/5834611502578679857'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/5834611502578679857'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/2009/07/p.html' title='P'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17986232781033357417</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/R_W-uHNLZXI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ixA-tuDJJrs/S220/DSC00685.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531498812378704022.post-7407244803958222899</id><published>2009-07-02T20:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-02T20:16:01.086-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Vindication!</title><content type='html'>Some of my friends commented that maybe it was a little strange that immediately after peeling a banana I put the sticker on my kid's forehead. I could see on their face they considered this to be some strange IE behavior. The best part was when I showed this to my neighbor, pausing for my "I told you so" moment, she asks "Where did you get that?" As if I had stickers printed for my bananas! When will people come to accept that I know stuff?  Albeit unimportant stuff, but stuff nonetheless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td align="center" valign="top" width="590"&gt;&lt;div id="slideshow_div" style="visibility: visible; width: 589px; height: 441px;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://images1f.snapfish.com/232323232%7Ffp8%3B4%3Enu%3D3249%3E865%3E39%3B%3EWSNRCG%3D3267748985325nu0mrj" id="slideshowPicture" name="slideshowPicture" style="position: relative; visibility: visible; width: 488px; height: 365px;" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/td&gt;       &lt;/tr&gt;       &lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;       &lt;div id="video_div" style="display: none;"&gt;       &lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="495"&gt;         &lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="5"&gt;&lt;img src="http://static.snapfish.com/MD5=ba58a2dd92ab23fa6a7c06b6d8b7a5e2/default/images/video/video-top-curve.gif" alt="" width="495" height="10" /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;         &lt;tr bgcolor="#ffffff"&gt;       &lt;td bgcolor="#dedfde" width="1"&gt;&lt;img src="http://static.snapfish.com/MD5=ba58a2dd92ab23fa6a7c06b6d8b7a5e2/default/images/spacer.gif" alt="" width="1" height="1" /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;       &lt;td width="7"&gt;&lt;img src="http://static.snapfish.com/MD5=ba58a2dd92ab23fa6a7c06b6d8b7a5e2/default/images/spacer.gif" alt=" " width="7" height="1" /&gt; &lt;/td&gt;       &lt;td align="center" valign="top" width="100%"&gt;          &lt;div align="center"&gt;         &lt;table align="center" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="480"&gt;         &lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;         &lt;td width="10"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;         &lt;td align="right"&gt;         &lt;img src="http://static.snapfish.com/MD5=ba58a2dd92ab23fa6a7c06b6d8b7a5e2/default/images/video/video-tag-gray.gif" alt="" border="0" width="40" height="16" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      &lt;div id="expired_video_div" style="display: none;"&gt;&lt;img name="slideshowPicture" id="slideshowPicture" style="position: relative;" src="http://static.snapfish.com/MD5=ba58a2dd92ab23fa6a7c06b6d8b7a5e2/default/images/header/logo-green-hp.gif" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;         &lt;/td&gt;         &lt;td width="10"&gt;&lt;/td&gt;         &lt;td&gt;         &lt;span class="red"&gt;&lt;b&gt;Your Snapfish Home Videos subscription has been expired.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;      &lt;a href="http://www1.snapfish.com/moviesubscription/"&gt;more info&lt;/a&gt;         &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;         &lt;/div&gt;         &lt;/td&gt;         &lt;td width="7"&gt;&lt;img src="http://static.snapfish.com/MD5=ba58a2dd92ab23fa6a7c06b6d8b7a5e2/default/images/spacer.gif" alt="" width="7" height="1" /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;         &lt;td bgcolor="#dedfde" width="1"&gt;&lt;img src="http://static.snapfish.com/MD5=ba58a2dd92ab23fa6a7c06b6d8b7a5e2/default/images/spacer.gif" alt="" width="1" height="1" /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;          &lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="5"&gt;&lt;img src="http://static.snapfish.com/MD5=ba58a2dd92ab23fa6a7c06b6d8b7a5e2/default/images/video/video-bottom-curve.gif" alt="" width="495" height="10" /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt; &lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt; &lt;/div&gt;    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;     &lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;  &lt;!--------------------------------- caption -----------------------------------&gt;             &lt;table border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" width="480"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td colspan="3" height="6"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4531498812378704022-7407244803958222899?l=itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/feeds/7407244803958222899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4531498812378704022&amp;postID=7407244803958222899' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/7407244803958222899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/7407244803958222899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/2009/07/some-of-my-friends-commented-that-maybe.html' title='Vindication!'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17986232781033357417</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/R_W-uHNLZXI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ixA-tuDJJrs/S220/DSC00685.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531498812378704022.post-3380195284734087463</id><published>2009-06-18T22:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-18T23:06:16.075-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yummy!</title><content type='html'>&lt;h2 style="font-weight: bold;" class="headerlink"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;H&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: normal;font-size:100%;" &gt;ad dinner with Mike and Tamara tonight (because when you are pregnant with triplets you should at least get  some Taco Soup out of the deal!) and we ate this delicious cake.  Quite accidentally I believe it is VEGAN!  Ha, I served Mike vegan food and he didn't even guess!  This is a guy that wears a t-shirt that says "I love animals...they are delicious."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h2&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;I substituted 1/2 c of unsweetened apple sauce for part of the oil because that is how I roll.  Served dusted with powdered sugar and sliced strawberries because Stater's had a HUGE container for $4.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;font-size:100%;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Here you go internet...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quick Chocolate Cake&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Mixingbowl.com&lt;br /&gt;6.5 pts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Moist chocolate cake with no eggs                                   &lt;p&gt;Servings:                  12         &lt;/p&gt;                               &lt;p&gt;          Prep time:                5 min.         &lt;/p&gt;                               &lt;p&gt;          Cook time:               30 min         &lt;/p&gt;                               &lt;p&gt;          Total time:                35 min         &lt;/p&gt;                &lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;        &lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;Ingredients:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;               3 c. flour&lt;br /&gt;2 c. sugar&lt;br /&gt;1/2 c. cocoa&lt;br /&gt;2 c. cold water&lt;br /&gt;2/3 c. veg. oil&lt;br /&gt;2 tsp. baking soda&lt;br /&gt;2 tsp. white vinegar&lt;br /&gt;1 tsp. salt&lt;br /&gt;1 tsp. vanilla                 &lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;        &lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;Directions:&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt; Mix together all ingredients and beat until well combined. Pour into 9"x13" cake pan. Bake in preheated 350 degree oven for 30 minutes or until cake tests done.&lt;br /&gt;Serve with whipped cream, Cool Whip, ice cream or just powdered sugar.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4531498812378704022-3380195284734087463?l=itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/feeds/3380195284734087463/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4531498812378704022&amp;postID=3380195284734087463' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/3380195284734087463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/3380195284734087463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/2009/06/yummy.html' title='Yummy!'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17986232781033357417</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/R_W-uHNLZXI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ixA-tuDJJrs/S220/DSC00685.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531498812378704022.post-6346113176063900239</id><published>2009-06-11T16:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T16:28:07.888-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jump in your DeLorean...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div id="productLayer" onmouseout="fnMouse_out(event)"&gt;&lt;img style="width: 210px; height: 257px;" name="image1" id="productImg" onmousemove="fnMouse_move(event)" src="http://www.forever21.com/images/model/61666396-07.jpg" onerror="this.src='/images/no_image.jpg'" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saw this Dress on the &lt;a href="http://www.forever21.com/product.asp?catalog_name=FOREVER21&amp;amp;category_name=faith_main&amp;amp;product_id=2061666396&amp;amp;Page=all"&gt;Forever 2&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.forever21.com/product.asp?catalog_name=FOREVER21&amp;amp;category_name=faith_main&amp;amp;product_id=2061666396&amp;amp;Page=all"&gt;1&lt;/a&gt; website and had a strange surge of memories from my 8th grade graduation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/SjGUxMXsW_I/AAAAAAAAANw/8ZfTB2HOlio/s1600-h/8th+Grade+Edit.bmp"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 234px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/SjGUxMXsW_I/AAAAAAAAANw/8ZfTB2HOlio/s320/8th+Grade+Edit.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346217805520591858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is true what they say,  "If you wore it the first time, you can't wear it the second time."  I am just afraid that because I experienced the 80's so early in life I will have to suffer through  my &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;grandchildren&lt;/span&gt; wearing pegged acid washed jeans, and using AquaNet hairspray.  This by the way is why I was so afraid of getting bangs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4531498812378704022-6346113176063900239?l=itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/feeds/6346113176063900239/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4531498812378704022&amp;postID=6346113176063900239' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/6346113176063900239'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/6346113176063900239'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/2009/06/jump-in-your-delorean.html' title='Jump in your DeLorean...'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17986232781033357417</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/R_W-uHNLZXI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ixA-tuDJJrs/S220/DSC00685.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/SjGUxMXsW_I/AAAAAAAAANw/8ZfTB2HOlio/s72-c/8th+Grade+Edit.bmp' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531498812378704022.post-5205638301839330311</id><published>2009-06-11T15:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-11T15:53:21.809-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blogger Beware</title><content type='html'>&lt;a id="linkImgRelatedPhotos"&gt;&lt;img src="http://msnbcmedia.msn.com/j/MSNBC/Components/Photo/_new/090610-HolidayPicAd-Hlarge-546p.hlarge.jpg" style="border: 1px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); width: 403px; height: 187px;" title="Image: Family's photo" alt="Image: Family's photo" border="0" vspace="0" hspace="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img src="http://msnbcmedia1.msn.com/i/msnbc/Components/Sources/Art/APTRANS.gif" border="0" vspace="0" width="140" height="20" hspace="0" /&gt;&lt;div class="textTimestamp"&gt;&lt;span id="udtD"&gt;updated &lt;span class="time"&gt;5:43 p.m. PT,&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="date"&gt;Wed., June  10, 2009&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;script language="javascript"&gt;   function UpdateTimeStamp(pdt) {    var n = document.getElementById("udtD");    if(pdt != '' &amp;&amp; n &amp;&amp; window.DateTime) {     var dt = new DateTime();     pdt = dt.T2D(pdt);     if(dt.GetTZ(pdt)) {n.innerHTML = dt.D2S(pdt,((''.toLowerCase()=='false')?false:true));}    }   }   UpdateTimeStamp('633802777874170000');&lt;/script&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p class="textBodyBlack"&gt;&lt;span id="byLine"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;ST. LOUIS - When Danielle Smith and her family posed for their Christmas card photo last year, they knew they'd share it with family and friends. But the Missouri family wasn't expecting it to show up in the Czech Republic, splashed across a huge storefront advertisement.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="textBodyBlack"&gt;&lt;span id="byLine"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Smith, 36, who lives in the St. Louis suburb of O'Fallon, said Wednesday that she posted the photo on her blog and some online social networking sites. It featured her, her husband Jeff and their two children.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="textBodyBlack"&gt;&lt;span id="byLine"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;About 10 days ago, a college friend was driving through Prague when he spotted their huge smiling faces in the window of a store specializing in European food. He snapped a few pictures and sent them to a flabbergasted Smith.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is this the craziest thing?  Note to self:only post low-resolution photos on my blog.  Note to other bloggers:seriously reconsider some of the pictures of your kids you publish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do wish I had pictures of myself so good-looking that Czech grocers would steal them for ads.  Wouldn't it be tragic to find a picture of yourself somewhere as a "Before"  picture.  I'm going to the gym right now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4531498812378704022-5205638301839330311?l=itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/feeds/5205638301839330311/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4531498812378704022&amp;postID=5205638301839330311' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/5205638301839330311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/5205638301839330311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/2009/06/blogger-beware.html' title='Blogger Beware'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17986232781033357417</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/R_W-uHNLZXI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ixA-tuDJJrs/S220/DSC00685.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531498812378704022.post-2630113829363300992</id><published>2009-06-07T20:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-07T20:57:05.789-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Jack the Tank</title><content type='html'>Jackson on the occasion of your second birthday a better mom would have made a video montage of your sweetest moments.  Instead I have decided to post a video of what I see as your future.  As one might expect it's R rated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DVVfRDU0H-A"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DVVfRDU0H-A&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you Jackson.  You make me laugh, you make me cry, and I get out of bed each morning hoping I can teach you to keep attacking life at a break-neck pace, without actually breaking your neck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way: no beer til your 21, that girl better be your wife, and eventually you will start having to wear pants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack the Tank! Jack the Tank! Jack the Tank!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4531498812378704022-2630113829363300992?l=itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/feeds/2630113829363300992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4531498812378704022&amp;postID=2630113829363300992' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/2630113829363300992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/2630113829363300992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/2009/06/jack-tank.html' title='Jack the Tank'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17986232781033357417</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/R_W-uHNLZXI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ixA-tuDJJrs/S220/DSC00685.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531498812378704022.post-5054396781179985997</id><published>2009-05-19T09:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-19T17:27:43.338-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Save the Date</title><content type='html'>&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/Lisa/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot.jpg" alt="" /&gt;May 29, 2011 Dr. H &amp;amp; Mrs. Dr. H are having a party.  I am calling to reserve the margarita machine right now...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="file:///C:/DOCUME%7E1/Lisa/LOCALS%7E1/Temp/moz-screenshot-1.jpg" alt="" /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://images1f.snapfish.com/232323232%7Ffp8%3B%3A%3Enu%3D3254%3E64%3A%3E693%3E234564%3A784234ot1lsi"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 249px; height: 332px;" src="http://images1f.snapfish.com/232323232%7Ffp8%3B%3A%3Enu%3D3254%3E64%3A%3E693%3E234564%3A784234ot1lsi" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4531498812378704022-5054396781179985997?l=itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/feeds/5054396781179985997/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4531498812378704022&amp;postID=5054396781179985997' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/5054396781179985997'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/5054396781179985997'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/2009/05/save-date.html' title='Save the Date'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17986232781033357417</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/R_W-uHNLZXI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ixA-tuDJJrs/S220/DSC00685.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531498812378704022.post-7732495839852189443</id><published>2009-05-08T09:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-05-08T09:44:12.151-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Born-again Blogger</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/SgRgQSBaLgI/AAAAAAAAANo/tz-d57tE34s/s1600-h/DSC02074.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/SgRgQSBaLgI/AAAAAAAAANo/tz-d57tE34s/s320/DSC02074.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333493691545431554" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well this is old news to most of you at this point but since Jackson is now cast-free I finally have time to let you know that he fractured his arm.  And if my grandmother is reading this, those dishes on the counter are clean.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4531498812378704022-7732495839852189443?l=itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/feeds/7732495839852189443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4531498812378704022&amp;postID=7732495839852189443' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/7732495839852189443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/7732495839852189443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/2009/05/born-again-blogger.html' title='Born-again Blogger'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17986232781033357417</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/R_W-uHNLZXI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ixA-tuDJJrs/S220/DSC00685.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/SgRgQSBaLgI/AAAAAAAAANo/tz-d57tE34s/s72-c/DSC02074.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531498812378704022.post-345986692582295383</id><published>2009-02-22T19:33:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-22T19:49:07.320-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Cupcake</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;We have a new addition to our family and her name is Cupcake! She is a Cairn Terrier Mix, who has had a few too many cupcakes by the looks of her. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/SaIb3O2j6LI/AAAAAAAAANQ/XsVaL0R8Td8/s1600-h/Cupcake.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5305833946689562802" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 314px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/SaIb3O2j6LI/AAAAAAAAANQ/XsVaL0R8Td8/s320/Cupcake.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We adopted her from the &lt;a href="http://www.petsadoption.com/"&gt;Riverside Humane Society&lt;/a&gt; which was an great experience. The facility is SOOOO nice, the staff was super helpful too. They reminded us that they were a no-kill shelter and that all of their pets would find homes. They really wanted us to find the right fit, not just feel sorry for an animal. Everything was clean and warm, not that scary animal shelter feeling. They even set up TWO interviews with our family and Cupcake, Jack was having a bad day the first time. They all cheered and were so excited for us, and the dog of course!  They also have under retail priced pet items in their shop, that supports the shelter.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cupcake is low-key, has only barked once. She sleeps happily in her crate at night, and did fine while we were gone for church. She is warming up to the kids, but gets a cautious look in her eye when Jack is around. Good instincts. Luckily since I got the huge baby gate for Christmas I can keep them separated when I can't have both eyes on them.  She'll be trapped in the kitchen. Like me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4531498812378704022-345986692582295383?l=itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/feeds/345986692582295383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4531498812378704022&amp;postID=345986692582295383' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/345986692582295383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/345986692582295383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/2009/02/cupcake.html' title='Cupcake'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17986232781033357417</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/R_W-uHNLZXI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ixA-tuDJJrs/S220/DSC00685.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/SaIb3O2j6LI/AAAAAAAAANQ/XsVaL0R8Td8/s72-c/Cupcake.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531498812378704022.post-2533900543837566198</id><published>2009-02-19T08:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-19T08:19:03.208-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Worst Good News Ever</title><content type='html'>Yesterday I was discussing the state of the economy, especially as it relates to Pat getting a job when he graduates, with my dad.  Pat has the option of pursuing a one year residency that would delay both the repayment of his loans and might buy some time for the economy to rebound.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My dad pointed out that since Pat will have a technical skill even if our economy collapses Pat will be able to provide for our family.  People will still need health care and if worse comes to worse Pat could always barter a root canal for some chickens. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What a relief.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4531498812378704022-2533900543837566198?l=itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/feeds/2533900543837566198/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4531498812378704022&amp;postID=2533900543837566198' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/2533900543837566198'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/2533900543837566198'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/2009/02/worst-good-news-ever.html' title='Worst Good News Ever'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17986232781033357417</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/R_W-uHNLZXI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ixA-tuDJJrs/S220/DSC00685.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531498812378704022.post-4715970166430565064</id><published>2009-01-28T22:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-28T23:12:51.606-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Just like Gayle</title><content type='html'>After easily &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;unsubscribing&lt;/span&gt; weeks ago from Red Plum, who used to send unwanted ads to my home twice a week, I searched for the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Pennysaver&lt;/span&gt; unsubscribe to no avail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ha! You will not defeat me junk mail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.pennysaverusa.com/mailinglist/removalform.aspx"&gt;http://www.pennysaverusa.com/mailinglist/removalform.aspx&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously I go outside &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;some days&lt;/span&gt; and there is nothing in the mailbox. Ten years ago that would have depressed me, today I need less communication from strangers I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't wait to tell my neighbor (though it does secretly satisfy me to see her mailbox overflowing everyday).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Leonardo &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;di&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Caprio&lt;/span&gt; will be happy, and so will Ella. Though I am sure this will lead to more of the continuing tirade, "why do I have to empty the trashcans just because its Monday? They aren't even full!?!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This just proves that if Oprah gives me an assignment I will complete it. Quit receiving junk mail. Check. All that's left on my Oprah list is to not eat out for a month, get sized for a bra, and decide what I am "really hungry for".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;P.S. Dude, I already don't get mail on Saturday, now what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/28897426/?GT1=43001"&gt;http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/28897426/?GT1=43001&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4531498812378704022-4715970166430565064?l=itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/feeds/4715970166430565064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4531498812378704022&amp;postID=4715970166430565064' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/4715970166430565064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/4715970166430565064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/2009/01/just-like-gayle.html' title='Just like Gayle'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17986232781033357417</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/R_W-uHNLZXI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ixA-tuDJJrs/S220/DSC00685.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531498812378704022.post-475409806981783789</id><published>2009-01-14T04:43:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-14T04:53:56.632-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Full Circle</title><content type='html'>The last day of every illness seems to start with me having stayed up all night.  I think this happened when I had my second child, since there is no taking it easy with that little table dancer, nor can my husband call in sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started with what seemed to be a minor stomach bug Friday, took a nap when Pat got home.  Went to Chili's, and then went to bed late because of said nap.  Slept in Saturday.  Went to a birthday party. Later Saturday night felt barfy, stayed up later.  Sunday we all missed church and I slept the day away.  Little by little my bed time has crept up until now, when apparently I no longer have a bed time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow, well...today now, I will be exhausted through lunch with Sam and Marsi, dying by the time I get through our new troop's first Daisy Girl Scout meeting, and then I will collapse at a reasonable bed time.  At which time I will consider myself over the stomach flu.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did I mention I find inane details of my life fascinating when I am sleep deprived?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4531498812378704022-475409806981783789?l=itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/feeds/475409806981783789/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4531498812378704022&amp;postID=475409806981783789' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/475409806981783789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/475409806981783789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/2009/01/full-circle.html' title='Full Circle'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17986232781033357417</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/R_W-uHNLZXI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ixA-tuDJJrs/S220/DSC00685.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531498812378704022.post-6185019678177841097</id><published>2009-01-01T21:19:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-01T21:26:03.232-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The elves arrived a few days after Christmas.</title><content type='html'>Little cleaning elves it seems have been to my home and I could not be happier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few days after Christmas, Pat and I went to Vegas (baby!) to belatedly celebrate our tenth anniversary.  Awesome time was had by all but something even better happened when I came home...my house was spotless!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While my in-laws stayed here with the kids elves must have steam-cleaned my carpets, cleaned the microwave, emptied the vacuum(man I hate that job!), AND got the mildew out of our shower that I was sure was permanent.  I would be mortified except that I am so freakin' happy that it is all clean.  I am sure there are other surprised I have yet to discover.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On our drive home from the aforementioned awesome trip we were discussing our need to make it an annual trip.  Now that I have seen my house I am considering semi-annual.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do elves work in June?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4531498812378704022-6185019678177841097?l=itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/feeds/6185019678177841097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4531498812378704022&amp;postID=6185019678177841097' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/6185019678177841097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/6185019678177841097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/2009/01/elves-arrived-few-days-after-christmas.html' title='The elves arrived a few days after Christmas.'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17986232781033357417</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/R_W-uHNLZXI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ixA-tuDJJrs/S220/DSC00685.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531498812378704022.post-179530132560696307</id><published>2008-12-15T22:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-15T23:03:03.111-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Ready to potty train?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/SUdRvDVEs2I/AAAAAAAAAMI/MyQu8Vsqr-4/s1600-h/potty+seat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5280278956904592226" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/SUdRvDVEs2I/AAAAAAAAAMI/MyQu8Vsqr-4/s320/potty+seat.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="javascript:showEnhanced("&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="javascript:showEnhanced("&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;If Jackson picks up his sister's Dora the Explora' potty seat insert and puts it on his head, would you consider that a sign of readiness? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The best part was that when I held it up and said, "this is for your booty," he looked at me like, "what the heck would I put it there for?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I wasn't prepping Jack for potty training, I was trying to clean the bathroom. Trust me I am in no rush to potty train Jackson. Ever. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now that I am an old and seasoned veteran in these parenting wars I know that potty training is only the end of diapers, but does not represent any sort of new freedom. I will be racing to find the nearest restroom with a panicked child and handling poo for perhaps the rest of my life.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4531498812378704022-179530132560696307?l=itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/feeds/179530132560696307/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4531498812378704022&amp;postID=179530132560696307' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/179530132560696307'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/179530132560696307'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/2008/12/ready-to-potty-train.html' title='Ready to potty train?'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17986232781033357417</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/R_W-uHNLZXI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ixA-tuDJJrs/S220/DSC00685.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/SUdRvDVEs2I/AAAAAAAAAMI/MyQu8Vsqr-4/s72-c/potty+seat.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531498812378704022.post-1525411453809052937</id><published>2008-12-09T20:40:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T20:47:51.477-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Seriously...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;...go buy this right now. Unless you like your hot chocolate to taste like the cardboard box it came in.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/ST9JLPlZedI/AAAAAAAAAMA/z6u_cYLU4lw/s1600-h/cocoa_sweet.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5278017745812290002" style="WIDTH: 219px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 269px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/ST9JLPlZedI/AAAAAAAAAMA/z6u_cYLU4lw/s320/cocoa_sweet.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Whisk into hot milk, top with marshmallows, sip coffeehouse quality cocoa.  Like I am right now.  Mmmm.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.ghirardelli.com/products/cocoa_sweet.aspx"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4531498812378704022-1525411453809052937?l=itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/feeds/1525411453809052937/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4531498812378704022&amp;postID=1525411453809052937' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/1525411453809052937'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/1525411453809052937'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/2008/12/seriously.html' title='Seriously...'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17986232781033357417</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/R_W-uHNLZXI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ixA-tuDJJrs/S220/DSC00685.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/ST9JLPlZedI/AAAAAAAAAMA/z6u_cYLU4lw/s72-c/cocoa_sweet.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531498812378704022.post-1110042724240416141</id><published>2008-12-06T16:22:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-12-06T16:32:00.746-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Advent opposites</title><content type='html'>Every night during dinner we have been lighting our Advent candles. Ella is terrified of the matches. Not the flame. She's terrified of that too, but that is not irrational. The matches though, she doesn't want to touch them. Or have them on her side of the table. She really doesn't like when we touch them, which makes it especially difficult to light the candles. Apparently Ella has picked up the whole Smokey the Bear don't play with matches thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jackson on the other hand stares at the flame with a playful look in his eye. Like, "if I could just get my hands on that thing, then things would get really interesting!" I am grateful he is strapped into his highchair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank God for Jackson though. Really, can you have a whole family full of don't play with the matches types?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4531498812378704022-1110042724240416141?l=itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/feeds/1110042724240416141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4531498812378704022&amp;postID=1110042724240416141' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/1110042724240416141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/1110042724240416141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/2008/12/advent-opposites.html' title='Advent opposites'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17986232781033357417</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/R_W-uHNLZXI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ixA-tuDJJrs/S220/DSC00685.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531498812378704022.post-6242989806579412932</id><published>2008-11-12T21:35:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-12T21:43:27.319-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Tooth Fairy</title><content type='html'>Ella lost a tooth!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is especially good news since she has a dental student for a father. We have the cutest "Tooth Fairy" set from Once Upon a Family with a pillow and a few other secret accessories to help the fairy.  I can't wait for her to fall asleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ella asked today if the Tooth Fairy lived close to Loma Linda. When I mentioned it to my dad, he said she lived in Arkansas. (You have to go where the work is.) Then after Girl Scouts she mentioned she wanted to write the Tooth Fairy a note. Cute right? No. She wanted to let her know, "I only take dollars."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4531498812378704022-6242989806579412932?l=itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/feeds/6242989806579412932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4531498812378704022&amp;postID=6242989806579412932' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/6242989806579412932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/6242989806579412932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/2008/11/tooth-fairy.html' title='Tooth Fairy'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17986232781033357417</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/R_W-uHNLZXI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ixA-tuDJJrs/S220/DSC00685.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531498812378704022.post-1097399864403396208</id><published>2008-09-29T22:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T23:07:12.358-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hobo Store</title><content type='html'>There is a "store" near campus for students called the Little White House. It is like a free thrift store with various household items, furniture, toys. After seeing &lt;strong&gt;Kit Kittredge, An American Girl&lt;/strong&gt; we started referring to it as our Hobo Store. "Take what you need, leave what you don't."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have picked up some great things there, mirror for Ella's room, Elmo toy for Jack, Le Creuset spatula for me, and our coffee table ottoman we painted and reupholstered. Pat even picked up a textbook he needed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well if I wasn't worried enough about the economy after the stock market tumble, I'm panicked now. When we drove by this evening there was a line 20 people deep to get into our Hobo Store!!! If I start seeing our neighbors in blue scrubs walking to school with their belongings wrapped in a hanky, hung from a stick, I am stuffing my mattress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bright side, as I often point out to Pat, is that we picked the best time possible to be broke. Imagine if we owned a house, had been saving for retirement, or had jobs that we could lose. Suckers!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aaaahhh! Isn't poverty refreshing.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4531498812378704022-1097399864403396208?l=itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/feeds/1097399864403396208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4531498812378704022&amp;postID=1097399864403396208' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/1097399864403396208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/1097399864403396208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/2008/09/hobo-store.html' title='Hobo Store'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17986232781033357417</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/R_W-uHNLZXI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ixA-tuDJJrs/S220/DSC00685.JPG'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531498812378704022.post-5929878162392758766</id><published>2008-09-05T08:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-09-05T12:49:50.152-07:00</updated><title type='text'>12345678910</title><content type='html'>1 hot guy&lt;br /&gt;2 kids&lt;br /&gt;3 more years of dental school&lt;br /&gt;4 cars&lt;br /&gt;5 years of dating&lt;br /&gt;6 moving vans &lt;br /&gt;7 churches&lt;br /&gt;8 jobs&lt;br /&gt;9 budgets&lt;br /&gt;10 years of marriage&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4531498812378704022-5929878162392758766?l=itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/feeds/5929878162392758766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4531498812378704022&amp;postID=5929878162392758766' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/5929878162392758766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/5929878162392758766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/2008/09/12345678910.html' title='12345678910'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17986232781033357417</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/R_W-uHNLZXI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ixA-tuDJJrs/S220/DSC00685.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531498812378704022.post-772748801845812867</id><published>2008-08-19T11:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T11:28:04.128-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Morning Lark</title><content type='html'>If I could change two things about myself, I would be naturally thin and be a morning person.  I know anyone can make themselves get up in the morning, I mean I want to greet each day energetically, get more done before 9 am than most people do all day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you know me, you know I love a program.  So after a little searching(thank you internet!) I have great tips to becoming a morning person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.  Set your wake time, incl. weekends, holidays, etc.  That's tough but I will have you know that I got up no later than 7:30 all weekend.  This was especially helpful because I could watch the Olympics from the night before early enough that I didn't run into any spoilers.  Oh Mikey Phelps, I love you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Leave house immediately for a 1/2 hour walk.  The daylight turns off your melatonin telling you that you are awake.  Jack occasionally looks at me wondering why we are outside when he could be watching Elmo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.  Avoid bright light at night.  Strangely this might be the toughest one for me.  I love running errands at night sans anklebighters!  I almost ran to Walmart absentmindedly last night, forgetting that the bright daylight inside there would throw off my body clock.&lt;br /&gt;They suggested you could wear yellow sunglasses.  If I did I would have to go around singing "Man, I love these Blu-Blockers!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Take otc melatonin at night.  Not brave enough to try this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.  No caffeine or alcohol after 3.  This means no diet coke at night, but I am fully cleared to start drinking at  lunch time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If any of you know how to be naturally thin please comment.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4531498812378704022-772748801845812867?l=itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/feeds/772748801845812867/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4531498812378704022&amp;postID=772748801845812867' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/772748801845812867'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/772748801845812867'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/2008/08/morning-lark.html' title='Morning Lark'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17986232781033357417</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/R_W-uHNLZXI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ixA-tuDJJrs/S220/DSC00685.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531498812378704022.post-7309163507977389270</id><published>2008-07-14T11:57:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-14T12:25:11.068-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Now We Are Six</title><content type='html'>When I was One,&lt;br /&gt;I had just begun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was Two,&lt;br /&gt;I was nearly new.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was Three,&lt;br /&gt;I was hardly Me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was Five,&lt;br /&gt;I was just alive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But now I am Six, I'm as clever as clever.&lt;br /&gt;So I think I'll be six now for ever and ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A.A. Milne&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clever as clever you are little girl.  One day you'll grow up and dream of a beautiful, smart little girl, and if you are lucky she will be just as sassy and funny as you.&lt;img id="slideshowPicture" style="POSITION: relative" height="320" src="http://images1.snapfish.com/232323232%7Ffp63%3Dot%3E233%3A%3D956%3D48%3C%3D848897b282%3C3523%3D3232%3B95%3B8%3A473nu0mrj" width="480" border="0" name="slideshowPicture" lrp="232323232%7Fjwvs%3C%3E%3Dvvrtdihedv50vpi250vpdrikvj1ero%3D93%3A3%3DghvAScwj%40%3Dot%3E233%3A%3D956%3D48%3C%3D848897b282%3C3523%3D3232%3B95%3B8%3A473nu0mrjAVvrtdihEhnoPdoh%3Fgo72" hrfilesize="422" isvideo="false" incart="false" pictureowneroid="17633169" pictureoid="812569750" isfavorite="false" tnwidth="96" tnurl="http://images1.snapfish.com/232323232%7Ffp58%3Dwp%3E233%3A%3D956%3D48%3C%3D848897b282%3C3523%3D3232%3B95%3B8%3A473vq0mrj" caption="Picture 24" isownedone="true" imgoid="812569750" imgid="812569750" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div id="slideshow_div" style="VISIBILITY: visible"&gt;&lt;img id="slideshowPicture" style="POSITION: relative" height="443" src="http://render1.snapfish.com/render2/is=Yup60oQ%7C%3Dup6RKKt%3AxxrKUp7BHD7KPfrj%3DQofrj7t%3DzrRfDUX%3AeQaQxg%3Dr%3F87KR6xqpxQQQQxG0nxGenxQQQQG0nGeno0GqpfVtB%3F*KUp7BHSHqqy7XH6gX0P%7CRup6JaQ%7C/of=50,295,443" width="295" border="0" name="slideshowPicture" lrp="232323232%7Fjwvs%3C%3E%3Dvvrtdihedv40vpi250vpdrikvj1ero%3D93%3A3%3DghvAScwj%40%3Dot%3E2323%3D85%3C%3D89%3C%3D323285%3C7%3A%3B558nu0mrjAVvrtdihEhnoPdoh%3Fgo63" hrfilesize="338" isvideo="false" incart="false" pictureowneroid="17633169" pictureoid="531460729" isfavorite="false" tnwidth="64" tnurl="http://images1.snapfish.com/232323232%7Ffp63%3Dwp%3E2323%3D85%3C%3D89%3C%3D323285%3C7%3A%3B55%3Avq0mrj" caption="New Tricycle" isownedone="true" imgoid="531460729" imgid="531460729" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="VISIBILITY: visible"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="VISIBILITY: visible"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="VISIBILITY: visible"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="VISIBILITY: visible"&gt;&lt;div id="slideshow_div" style="VISIBILITY: visible"&gt;&lt;img id="slideshowPicture" style="POSITION: relative" height="442" src="http://render1.snapfish.com/render2/is=Yup6G00%7C%3Dup6RKKt%3Axxr%3D0-qpDofRt7Pf7mrPfrj7t%3DzrRfDUX%3AeQaQxg%3Dr%3F87KR6xqpxQQQlxJQlxGPnxQQQlJQlGPnln0qpfVtB%3F*KUp7BHSHqqy7XH6gX0QoPJ%7CRup6aQQ%7C/of=50,295,442" width="295" border="0" name="slideshowPicture" lrp="232323232%7Fjwvs%3C%3E%3Dvh6%2Fotf41jsc40dwv31uqcshluk0fqp%3C%3A2%3B2%3EfiuBRdvk%3F%3Enu%3D3238%3E638%3E74%3B%3E232963883%3C8%3C5ot1lsiBUwqucjgFgonQcpg%40fp53446" hrfilesize="314" isvideo="false" incart="false" pictureowneroid="17633169" pictureoid="939307240" isfavorite="false" tnwidth="63" tnurl="http://images2b.snapfish.com/232323232%7Ffp5344%3A%3Evq%3D3238%3E638%3E74%3B%3E232963883%3C8%3C6wp1lsi" caption="Picture 8" isownedone="true" imgoid="939307240" imgid="939307240" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="VISIBILITY: visible"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="VISIBILITY: visible"&gt;&lt;div id="slideshow_div" style="VISIBILITY: visible"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="VISIBILITY: visible"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="VISIBILITY: visible"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="VISIBILITY: visible"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="VISIBILITY: visible"&gt;&lt;div id="slideshow_div" style="VISIBILITY: visible"&gt;&lt;img id="slideshowPicture" style="POSITION: relative" height="393" src="http://render1.snapfish.com/render2/is=Yup6aQQ%7C%3Dup6RKKt%3AxxWtUq4P0frj%3DQofrj7t%3DzrRfDUX%3AeQaQxg%3Dr%3F87KR6xqpxQQPexl00xPlnxJQee0l_QlQnQGQQxQQQPaPaPJG0nlqpfVtB%3F*KUp7BHSHqqy7XH6gXPPe%7CRup6G00%7C/of=50,590,393" width="590" border="0" name="slideshowPicture" lrp="232323232%7Fjwvs%3C%3E%3Dyrrn%7C360vpi250vpdrikvj1ero%3D93%3A3%3DghvAScwj%40%3Dot%3E233%3A%3D956%3D48%3C%3D72%3A968b292%3C2823%3D3233%3B3%3B3776%3B9nu0mrjAVvrtdihEhnoPdoh%3Fgo43%3A" hrfilesize="396" isvideo="false" incart="false" pictureowneroid="17633169" pictureoid="2407809296" isfavorite="false" tnwidth="96" tnurl="http://images1.snapfish.com/232323232%7Ffp357%3Evq%3D3249%3E865%3E39%3B%3E639%3A59a383%3B3732%3E2324%3A4%3A4685%3C8wp1lsi" caption="Picture 13" isownedone="true" imgoid="2407809296" imgid="2407809296" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="VISIBILITY: visible"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="VISIBILITY: visible"&gt;&lt;div id="slideshow_div" style="VISIBILITY: visible"&gt;&lt;img id="slideshowPicture" style="POSITION: relative" height="442" src="http://render1.snapfish.com/render2/is=Yup6G00%7C%3Dup6RKKt%3AxxWtUq4P0frj%3DQofrj7t%3DzrRfDUX%3AeQaQxg%3Dr%3F87KR6xqpxQQQ0xPenx0ePxQQQ0Pen0ePealqpfVtB%3F*KUp7BHSHqqy7XH6gXP0n%7CRup6aQQ%7C/of=50,295,442" width="295" border="0" name="slideshowPicture" lrp="232323232%7Fjwvs%3C%3E%3Dyrrn%7C360vpi250vpdrikvj1ero%3D93%3A3%3DghvAScwj%40%3Dot%3E2326%3D49%3C%3D694%3D323549%3C5%3A3%3A%3A9nu0mrjAVvrtdihEhnoPdoh%3Fgo45%3C" hrfilesize="281" isvideo="false" incart="false" pictureowneroid="17633169" pictureoid="2878609900" isfavorite="false" tnwidth="63" tnurl="http://images1.snapfish.com/232323232%7Ffp372%3Evq%3D3235%3E3%3A%3B%3E5%3A3%3E23263%3A%3B6949%3B9wp1lsi" caption="Picture 1" isownedone="true" imgoid="2878609900" imgid="2878609900" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="VISIBILITY: visible"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="VISIBILITY: visible"&gt;Oh Ella, you make me laugh, you make me crazy, you made me a mom.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="VISIBILITY: visible"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sweet Ella Grace how I love you so.  Don't get any bigger.  You promised.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="slideshowPicture" style="POSITION: relative" height="442" src="http://render1.snapfish.com/render2/is=Yup6lQQ%7C%3Dup6RKKt%3Axxr%3D0-qpDofRt7Pf7mrPfrj7t%3DzrRfDUX%3AeQaQxg%3Dr%3F87KR6xqpxQQQlxolaxo0oxQQQlolao0oJeoqpfVtB%3F*KUp7BHSHqqy7XH6gX0QoQe%7CRup6aQQ%7C/of=50,332,442" width="332" border="0" name="slideshowPicture" lrp="232323232%7Fjwvs%3C%3E%3Dvh6%2Fotf41jsc40dwv31uqcshluk0fqp%3C%3A2%3B2%3EfiuBRdvk%3F%3Enu%3D3238%3E49%3A%3E464%3E232949%3A5556%3A4ot1lsiBUwqucjgFgonQcpg%40fp53439" hrfilesize="423" isvideo="false" incart="false" pictureowneroid="17633169" pictureoid="5143682442" isfavorite="false" tnwidth="72" tnurl="http://images2b.snapfish.com/232323232%7Ffp53436%3Evq%3D3238%3E49%3A%3E464%3E232949%3A5556%3A5wp1lsi" caption="DSC01117" isownedone="true" imgoid="5143682442" imgid="5143682442" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Be six now for ever and ever.  &lt;div id="slideshow_div" style="VISIBILITY: visible"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="javascript:gotoSlideShow(" s_oc="null" albumid="232949509/PictureID=5143682442/a=17633169_17633169/t_=17633169')&amp;quot;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="javascript:gotoSlideShow(" s_oc="null" albumid="232949509/PictureID=5143682442/a=17633169_17633169/t_=17633169')&amp;quot;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4531498812378704022-7309163507977389270?l=itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/feeds/7309163507977389270/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4531498812378704022&amp;postID=7309163507977389270' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/7309163507977389270'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/7309163507977389270'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/2008/07/now-we-are-six.html' title='Now We Are Six'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17986232781033357417</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/R_W-uHNLZXI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ixA-tuDJJrs/S220/DSC00685.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531498812378704022.post-4468734225404134313</id><published>2008-06-19T21:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T09:04:27.124-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Who's that crafty Kinder Mommy?  It's me...It's me...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/SFsujm5fEzI/AAAAAAAAAJE/mmR0OF0UzFI/s1600-h/June+22+08+003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213812182883439410" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/SFsujm5fEzI/AAAAAAAAAJE/mmR0OF0UzFI/s320/June+22+08+003.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Seriously...have you ever? I having been stowing this little cookie idea away deep in the recesses of my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;pre&lt;/span&gt;-kid brain and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;BLA&lt;/span&gt;-DOW here they are! All ready for Kindergarten graduation tomorrow.(sniff, sniff)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Can I tell you one of the best investments I ever made has been in the gel paste, professional dye, rather than those lame liquid drops from the grocery store. And the best part is that I never screamed at a member of my family once during the baking of the cookies. This my friends is progress.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;BTW, we bought a new grill today. Pat has been trying to repair ours, and I thought before spending any money at the Depot we should bust down and get one. I pondered &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;WWConnieD&lt;/span&gt;? Purchase a new one was really the only option. We'd be saving money really. Think of all the money we will save on electricity because we don't have to turn our oven on while the ac is on. And all of the money we will save not eating out, because we are the Grill Masters.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tonight we grilled chicken breasts and corn on the cob, both brushed with olive oil and paprika. 12 min corn, 18 min chicken(turn only once!) Then...oh baby. I cut the corn off of the cob(hold with a dish towel) and mixed it with sour cream and dried basil. Holy smokes. From &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;BH&lt;/span&gt;&amp;amp;G. I also made the Angel Food Raspberry &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Bruschetta&lt;/span&gt; for dessert. YUM! Can you tell my husband is on vacation?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Please don't take my above comments to mean that we don't want to go out to eat with you, because that is not true. We value friendships over frugality. That's the kind of people we are. Besides some things you just can't cook at home. Like a Costco hot dog and very berry sundae.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4531498812378704022-4468734225404134313?l=itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/feeds/4468734225404134313/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4531498812378704022&amp;postID=4468734225404134313' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/4468734225404134313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/4468734225404134313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/2008/06/whos-that-crafty-kinder-mommy-its-meits.html' title='Who&apos;s that crafty Kinder Mommy?  It&apos;s me...It&apos;s me...'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17986232781033357417</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/R_W-uHNLZXI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ixA-tuDJJrs/S220/DSC00685.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/SFsujm5fEzI/AAAAAAAAAJE/mmR0OF0UzFI/s72-c/June+22+08+003.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531498812378704022.post-3922104769425116953</id><published>2008-06-07T22:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T09:04:27.568-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Jackerpie</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Happy Birthday Sweet Jackson.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;A year and a half ago when we were in Buffalo, Sam and Marsi ran the wand across my belly and said the immortal words, "it looks like a boy," I was sure it was a mistake. What would I do with a boy. I was sure we would have all girls. Besides everyone knows that mothers and sons have a sick relationship.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And then you were born. So sweet. So lovey. So sleepy. What was I so worried about? You were such an easy baby. You just went with the flow. Laughing at your sister. Snuggling in the crook of my arm to watch Oprah. Sleeping in your sleeping dad's arms. Boys aren't so bad. What were all these people talking about?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/SEwm9tPJu7I/AAAAAAAAAFY/1QxstzZ56dk/s1600-h/DSC01289.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209581710517844914" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/SEwm9tPJu7I/AAAAAAAAAFY/1QxstzZ56dk/s320/DSC01289.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;There has been a change recently. I should have known the change had come the first time you banged and screamed at Ella's door to let you in to play. It would have been obvious to some when you crawled from the patio to the master bath and tore through the contents of the vanity, before I realized you were missing. Others would have noticed when you managed to open your sippy cup and dump it all over yourself and your car seat(and to think I was so happy you didn't cry on the car ride). Not me Jack. I don't think it was until you decided to help we with the laundry that I could finally admit to myself what your behavior problem is. You are becoming a boy. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/SEwm-zeOKhI/AAAAAAAAAFg/5340LWqnh2w/s1600-h/DSC01287.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5209581729371531794" style="CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/SEwm-zeOKhI/AAAAAAAAAFg/5340LWqnh2w/s320/DSC01287.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;A loud boy who screams with excitement at garbage trucks. A playful boy who laughs hysterically at every animal noise. A lovey boy who waves goodbye to Ella(or is it the school bus) the entire walk home in the morning. This, my love, is exactly what I was afraid of.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hope and pray that you will grow up to love God, be a great husband, and be as incredible a dad as your dad. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But now, I understand mothers and sons, because the only thing I dread more than you growing into a boy, is that some day you will grow up and be a man. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And women will make fun of a man who's mother still calls him Jackerpie.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4531498812378704022-3922104769425116953?l=itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/feeds/3922104769425116953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4531498812378704022&amp;postID=3922104769425116953' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/3922104769425116953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/3922104769425116953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/2008/06/jackerpie.html' title='Jackerpie'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17986232781033357417</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/R_W-uHNLZXI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ixA-tuDJJrs/S220/DSC00685.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/SEwm9tPJu7I/AAAAAAAAAFY/1QxstzZ56dk/s72-c/DSC01289.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531498812378704022.post-3996492141178442165</id><published>2008-05-25T12:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-25T12:57:07.163-07:00</updated><title type='text'>It's a Good Thing</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Blech&lt;/span&gt;!  That is all I have to say about slow shower drains.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Blech&lt;/span&gt;!  But I  have a new solution that does not require pouring poison where my sweet babies take a bath.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From:&lt;a href="http://www.marthastewart.com/healthy-home"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Martha of course&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#006600;"&gt;Pour 1/2 cup baking soda, followed by 1/2 cup white vinegar, down drain, and cover with a plug or rag. The mixture will work to break down any fats into salt and harmless gas. Flush with boiling water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Tips To&lt;/span&gt; prevent clogs, make sure your drain has a screen that keeps out solids. In the kitchen, never pour fat down the drain. In the bathroom, brush hair before getting into the shower. And go easy on soaps, shampoos, and especially conditioners and products that contain oils.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Totally works.  Filled the tea kettle twice for our shower.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Blech&lt;/span&gt;!  Sorry is this &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;TMI&lt;/span&gt;?  The good news is when you are married to a dental student though you can't &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;afford&lt;/span&gt; Drain-o, there are copious amounts of baking soda laying around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please leave your green(and therefore probably cheap) cleaning tip as a comment.  I can use all the help I can get.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4531498812378704022-3996492141178442165?l=itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/feeds/3996492141178442165/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4531498812378704022&amp;postID=3996492141178442165' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/3996492141178442165'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/3996492141178442165'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/2008/05/its-good-thing.html' title='It&apos;s a Good Thing'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17986232781033357417</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/R_W-uHNLZXI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ixA-tuDJJrs/S220/DSC00685.JPG'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531498812378704022.post-349404847566357250</id><published>2008-05-20T20:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-20T20:50:13.809-07:00</updated><title type='text'>There is nothing standing between me and happiness</title><content type='html'>There are a few days in my life that stand out of course as the best days of my life. My kids being born, marrying Pat, asking Christ into my life. Then there is today. The day of all days. I have often said that the only thing standing between me and happiness is a DVR. And boy was I right!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today the man appeared at my door, much like you hope Elijah will during a passover Seder. He was here representing DirecTV, and if I wanted the current special he could have it installed today. Today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The keen Lisa observer will remember that I tried to have DirecTV installed when we moved in, and when after several calls I couldn't get a response, I took it as a clue from Jesus to live within my means. Well folks apparently Jesus has plans for me to conspicuously consume because there was Phil at my door at 11:50 am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if there was any question as to how I would be spending my money from Uncle George we now know. Though like our friend Sam used to say, I will probably be spending that money 3 or 4 times. That's me doing my part to boost the economy. Seriously how was I going to spend it, put it in a Roth-IRA?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4531498812378704022-349404847566357250?l=itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/feeds/349404847566357250/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4531498812378704022&amp;postID=349404847566357250' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/349404847566357250'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/349404847566357250'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/2008/05/there-is-nothing-standing-between-me.html' title='There is nothing standing between me and happiness'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17986232781033357417</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/R_W-uHNLZXI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ixA-tuDJJrs/S220/DSC00685.JPG'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531498812378704022.post-2751112014774854852</id><published>2008-05-12T22:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-12T22:46:54.203-07:00</updated><title type='text'>And for this I spent four years in college?</title><content type='html'>Yesterday was a wonderful Mother's Day, made possible because of my loving husband(and loving sister-in-law).  Since we have the perfect marriage and perfect children it all came together perfectly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No it really was wonderful, I just felt myself turning into one of those people for a second.  My sister-in-law actually gave me the best card this year(my husband can't afford cards).  Inside she thanked me for being a great mom.  Loosely translated that means thank you for going another year without beating my niece or nephew even when it would have been justified.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least weekly, sometimes daily, I am reminded that being a stay at home mom is not at all what I thought it would be.  This really is not surprising because as I think back on my childhood I don't think I knew even one stay at home mom.  It's sort of like being hired to coach rugby without ever having watched a match.  Same number of injuries as rugby too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always thought that SAHM was what people fell back on.  The really intelligent, highly qualified, achiever types got real jobs like doctor, lawyer, Indian chief.  I was an AP/IB student, graduated from the University of California, and yet find myself at times vastly under qualified for a job that's main position focus is "prepares snacks".   What I have figured out is that to be a bad mom takes little or no effort.  In fact you can actively be trying to ruin your kids and still be considered a mom.  It's becoming great mom that presents the challenge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to cook nutritious, yummy meals, at a discount.  Have a home that is near perfectly clean.  I only want as much dirty laundry as will reasonably fit in the basket.  I want to love my husband, and be an example to our children.  I want to be patient with every tantrum, read every book, play every game, dress every Barbie.  I want to be deeply concerned with my kids spiritual, emotional, and social growth at all times.  I also don't want to be too high strung.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to be a mom in the 99th percentile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read that before becoming the first female Speaker of the House, Nancy Pelosi was a stay at a home mom for 17 years.   I think of this often when I am pondering my future.  Who even knows what amazing things lay ahead of me.  I may be under qualified for motherhood but if I can get my kids to stop whining I will be qualified to broker peace in the Middle East.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4531498812378704022-2751112014774854852?l=itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/feeds/2751112014774854852/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4531498812378704022&amp;postID=2751112014774854852' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/2751112014774854852'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/2751112014774854852'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/2008/05/and-for-this-i-spent-four-years-in.html' title='And for this I spent four years in college?'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17986232781033357417</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/R_W-uHNLZXI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ixA-tuDJJrs/S220/DSC00685.JPG'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531498812378704022.post-1876427048460224835</id><published>2008-05-05T09:42:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-05T09:54:19.567-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Things Ella's grandparents will find fascinating</title><content type='html'>Below are a few quotes overheard while going about our silly life with Ella.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While riding near campus we saw someone riding a Segway.  I explained to Ella that it didn't need gas, you just lean forward to move and lean back to stop.  Her reaction, "What happens when you dance?" (not if you dance, when)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While gardening yesterday we were separating the half flat of Alyssum and placing  it around the flower bed. "Mommy put them closer together, they are used to being next to each other."  When I explained that I was doing it correctly, "How will they get to know the other plants?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After noticing the mole on Pat's foot.  "Daddy your disgusting."  She's right BTW.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning we were discussing how much trouble Jack is and options for adoption.  I explained that yes he is a lot of work but we keep him because he is so cute.  "Yeah, if he was ugly we would for sure give him for adoption."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last but not least..."Ella, please do your morning routine." &lt;br /&gt;"But Mommy, it's Cinco de Mayo."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4531498812378704022-1876427048460224835?l=itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/feeds/1876427048460224835/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4531498812378704022&amp;postID=1876427048460224835' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/1876427048460224835'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/1876427048460224835'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/2008/05/things-ellas-grandparents-will-find.html' title='Things Ella&apos;s grandparents will find fascinating'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17986232781033357417</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/R_W-uHNLZXI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ixA-tuDJJrs/S220/DSC00685.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531498812378704022.post-1513978012517494097</id><published>2008-04-28T21:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-28T21:52:31.773-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Midterms</title><content type='html'>I hate midterms.  I know, I know, I am not a student but I hate Pat's midterms more than I ever hated my own.  First of all I was never as good of a student as he is (naturally gifted), and I didn't have these two kids screaming at me while I was studying.  The other day I decided that the only thing worse than mopping (once a day people!) is having your son chase you screaming and army crawling through the wet floor while you mop.  This is the kind of pressure I am under.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight we had dinner at Costco.  Don't judge me, it is midterms.  And as though our house were not enough of a pressure cooker our air conditioner went out today, more closely approximating the steamy aspects of a pressure cooker.  I was not about to turn on an oven and make it 1 degree warmer in here.  The real bummer is I have been killing myself getting deals on groceries just so I can kill the budget with a berry sundae. Did you know you can get them with chocolate soft serve?  I digress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At Costco I am getting Ella some water and Pat starts yelling my name.  Ella is about to blow.  She had been saying her head hurt, but frankly so did mine so I didn't think anything of it.  Until she starts to spew into my diet coke cup.  Yum. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thankfully she curled up and went to sleep in the stroller because MOTY (mother of the year) still had to get diapers.  I know that making your sick child sleep through a shopping trip is about the worst thing a mom could do, but it ranks just under having to leave your baby in the same diaper all day so I did my best.  As my friend Connie would say, "We all make choices"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And the worst part of all of this is that it was not even really that bad of a day.  100 degree heat, screaming baby, puking child not really that bad when you consider its midterms.  Just imagine what it will be like during finals.  When he takes his boards we are leaving town.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4531498812378704022-1513978012517494097?l=itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/feeds/1513978012517494097/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4531498812378704022&amp;postID=1513978012517494097' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/1513978012517494097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/1513978012517494097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/2008/04/midterms.html' title='Midterms'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17986232781033357417</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/R_W-uHNLZXI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ixA-tuDJJrs/S220/DSC00685.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531498812378704022.post-506541838559098917</id><published>2008-04-22T22:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-22T22:27:42.156-07:00</updated><title type='text'>(Two) Milestone</title><content type='html'>Tonight I went two miles. Though this is not a big deal for most (my husband refuses to run anything less than two miles) I think it is the first time in my life ever to have gone two miles. As a matter of fact my only memory of running before is the President's Physical Fitness testing in the 8th grade, and that was a mile that I whined through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With each marker as I have been running these last two months I think of those words of Christopher Robin to Pooh "You're braver than you believe and you are stronger than you seem." Running, like parenting, pushes you to your limits and then when you are brave you go a little further. Children don't wait for you to be brave to push you beyond your limits. They don't even wait until you are awake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack is getting his "maxillary central incisors" which look positively ugly bulging through. I am not sure which I dread more, not sleeping for the next few nights or him inevitably biting me. I suppose now is the time to be brave.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4531498812378704022-506541838559098917?l=itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/feeds/506541838559098917/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4531498812378704022&amp;postID=506541838559098917' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/506541838559098917'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/506541838559098917'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/2008/04/two-milestone.html' title='(Two) Milestone'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17986232781033357417</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/R_W-uHNLZXI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ixA-tuDJJrs/S220/DSC00685.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531498812378704022.post-1405069268013180700</id><published>2008-04-13T22:31:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T09:04:28.316-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Pat is ruining my life</title><content type='html'>When you stay home all day with a person who doesn't speak you have a lot of time to think about how you would like to redecorate your house and how you might like to change your hairdo. And since as Pat and I often discuss, to decorate your house you need a lot of money or a lot of time, and we have neither I have started obsessing about getting bangs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pat is opposed. He thinks they are too fussy. I can sort of understand his point as he remembers 80's bangs sprayed with Aquanet hairspray. And he just keeps saying over and over, "They hang in your FACE!" as if this is not the most obvious feature of bangs. My two greatest argument for bangs are that some of my cutest friends have them and at least its &lt;em&gt;something &lt;/em&gt;different for God's sake.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay fine, maybe we need a dog. On a walk we met someone with a Puggle. Very cute dog, and upon further inquiring found out she got the dog for 1/2 price, $600. Holy smokes, the rent on our first apartment was less than that!(insert old joke here) Pat reminded me that he is far too busy saving the world one tooth at a time to pick up dog poop and that would fall to me. Like all of the other poop duty around here. Our lease also does not allow for dogs. Minor detail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/SAL1P5uXTmI/AAAAAAAAAEw/ER0sVHw4ZXg/s1600-h/DSC01109.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188979374226361954" style="CURSOR: hand" height="159" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/SAL1P5uXTmI/AAAAAAAAAEw/ER0sVHw4ZXg/s320/DSC01109.JPG" width="205" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/SAL1QJuXTnI/AAAAAAAAAE4/d9jCeeY7XX0/s1600-h/DSC01113.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188979378521329266" style="WIDTH: 217px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 160px" height="169" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/SAL1QJuXTnI/AAAAAAAAAE4/d9jCeeY7XX0/s320/DSC01113.JPG" width="224" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/SAL1QpuXToI/AAAAAAAAAFA/Nq9PQvBxXfM/s1600-h/DSC01120.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188979387111263874" style="CURSOR: hand" height="213" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/SAL1QpuXToI/AAAAAAAAAFA/Nq9PQvBxXfM/s320/DSC01120.JPG" width="161" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/SAL1Q5uXTpI/AAAAAAAAAFI/vQuQjRb0ZKc/s1600-h/DSC01122.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188979391406231186" style="WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" height="152" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/SAL1Q5uXTpI/AAAAAAAAAFI/vQuQjRb0ZKc/s320/DSC01122.JPG" width="219" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/SAL1RJuXTqI/AAAAAAAAAFQ/LiDonMKEM2I/s1600-h/DSC01125.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/SAL1Q5uXTpI/AAAAAAAAAFI/vQuQjRb0ZKc/s1600-h/DSC01122.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;After a full weekend of IHOP for family night(kids eat free M-F, 3-10, and they have a Dr. Seuss menu!), Newport Beach(let's move here Pat), Kyle's 6th birthday, and church we went to Ohana for yogurt. Sitting outside Coffee Bean, watching Ella dance and Jack marvel at the misters and fountain, I reached frozen yogurt Nirvana.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just then a striking red head walked up with one of those really cute, really angular haircuts prompting me to suggest to Pat that maybe I should cut my hair short. His response:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"You should get bangs." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4531498812378704022-1405069268013180700?l=itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/feeds/1405069268013180700/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4531498812378704022&amp;postID=1405069268013180700' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/1405069268013180700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/1405069268013180700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/2008/04/pat-is-ruining-my-life.html' title='Pat is ruining my life'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17986232781033357417</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/R_W-uHNLZXI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ixA-tuDJJrs/S220/DSC00685.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/SAL1P5uXTmI/AAAAAAAAAEw/ER0sVHw4ZXg/s72-c/DSC01109.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531498812378704022.post-1807798786456890824</id><published>2008-04-07T22:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-07T22:28:47.161-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Yummy</title><content type='html'>I made the yummiest dinner the other night that was super easy.  From Martha of course.  I used fresh chicken and parmesan ravioli.  It felt so rich even though a few Tbsp of butter split between 3 people is no big deal.  We put that much on our popcorn. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.marthastewart.com/portal/site/mslo/menuitem.fc77a0dbc44dd1611e3bf410b5900aa0/?vgnextoid=de3e1a55b890f010VgnVCM1000003d370a0aRCRD&amp;amp;autonomy_kw=ravioli%20sage%20butter&amp;amp;rsc=header_6"&gt;http://www.marthastewart.com/portal/site/mslo/menuitem.fc77a0dbc44dd1611e3bf410b5900aa0/?vgnextoid=de3e1a55b890f010VgnVCM1000003d370a0aRCRD&amp;amp;autonomy_kw=ravioli%20sage%20butter&amp;amp;rsc=header_6&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I served it with veggies to assuage my guilt.  Put a lid on the pan to help wilt the spinach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.marthastewart.com/portal/site/mslo/menuitem.fc77a0dbc44dd1611e3bf410b5900aa0/?vgnextoid=1be0e7da540f7110VgnVCM1000003d370a0aRCRD&amp;amp;autonomy_kw=corn%20green%20beans%20spinach&amp;amp;rsc=header_1"&gt;http://www.marthastewart.com/portal/site/mslo/menuitem.fc77a0dbc44dd1611e3bf410b5900aa0/?vgnextoid=1be0e7da540f7110VgnVCM1000003d370a0aRCRD&amp;amp;autonomy_kw=corn%20green%20beans%20spinach&amp;amp;rsc=header_1&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was  one of those meals that I forgot I cooked it it was so good.  Having a not very expressive husband is so annoying at moments like that.  I wanted him to say, "Man, this is good.  MMMmmm, what is this?"  Instead, "thanks for making dinner."  The flip side of him not being very expressive is that on the all to often nights that I don't make dinner he doesn't complain.  On the outside anyway, if he's complaining on the inside that's his problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the not so yummy tip, ChaCha Tacos a new favorite for their Garbage Burrito, was discovered to have a "B" rating tonight at dinner.  Aacchh!  Apparently there is actual garbage in the burrito.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4531498812378704022-1807798786456890824?l=itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/feeds/1807798786456890824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4531498812378704022&amp;postID=1807798786456890824' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/1807798786456890824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/1807798786456890824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/2008/04/yummy.html' title='Yummy'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17986232781033357417</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/R_W-uHNLZXI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ixA-tuDJJrs/S220/DSC00685.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531498812378704022.post-330257758747778158</id><published>2008-04-05T10:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T09:04:29.690-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Family Night</title><content type='html'>It all started with the JDA mini-golf night. Fun except for my MOTY(mother of the year) moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you've ever golfed with a kindergartener you know it takes a while. Well after the 10th stroke I suggested to Ella that she just throw it in. Wrong word choice. Roll it in. Roll.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She of course throws it in...into the deep blue waters of Lake Fiesta Village. After a reasonable emotional outburst(growth on her part) Pat was able to get her a new ball. This still does not explain why Michael was golfing with a pink ball.&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/R_fYXHNLZtI/AAAAAAAAAEA/ygXQhE4P5GA/s1600-h/DSC01090.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185851387523327698" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 146px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 214px" height="262" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/R_fYXHNLZtI/AAAAAAAAAEA/ygXQhE4P5GA/s400/DSC01090.JPG" width="159" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/R_fYYXNLZwI/AAAAAAAAAEY/Hz4FyWQpQFI/s1600-h/DSC01097.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185851408998164226" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 141px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 213px" height="313" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/R_fYYXNLZwI/AAAAAAAAAEY/Hz4FyWQpQFI/s400/DSC01097.JPG" width="198" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/R_fYYXNLZwI/AAAAAAAAAEY/Hz4FyWQpQFI/s1600-h/DSC01097.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/R_fYYXNLZwI/AAAAAAAAAEY/Hz4FyWQpQFI/s1600-h/DSC01097.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Family night concluded with a Veggie Tales video(when we got home from eating JDA Veggie sandwiches) and a discussion of who is our neighbor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jack enjoyed the golf and the talking vegetables. Upon review of the photos I should have been paying better attention to how Pat was carrying my baby.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/R_feRnNLZxI/AAAAAAAAAEg/DApjSEHHcJc/s1600-h/DSC01091.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185857890103813906" style="CURSOR: hand" height="227" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/R_feRnNLZxI/AAAAAAAAAEg/DApjSEHHcJc/s400/DSC01091.JPG" width="164" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/R_feSXNLZyI/AAAAAAAAAEo/rmzavhmBXzc/s1600-h/DSC01095.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185857902988715810" style="WIDTH: 157px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 230px" height="338" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/R_feSXNLZyI/AAAAAAAAAEo/rmzavhmBXzc/s400/DSC01095.JPG" width="235" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4531498812378704022-330257758747778158?l=itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/feeds/330257758747778158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4531498812378704022&amp;postID=330257758747778158' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/330257758747778158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/330257758747778158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/2008/04/family-night.html' title='Family Night'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17986232781033357417</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/R_W-uHNLZXI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ixA-tuDJJrs/S220/DSC00685.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/R_fYXHNLZtI/AAAAAAAAAEA/ygXQhE4P5GA/s72-c/DSC01090.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531498812378704022.post-7598480907974271438</id><published>2008-04-03T22:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T09:04:30.206-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Feats of Strength</title><content type='html'>Sunday we had a great time at California Adventure with my in-laws, the high points being: 1. watching Ella and Mary skip over the cracks in the concrete, 2. listening to Pat and Joe scream like girls on Tower of Terror, 3. impressing my father-in-law with my Disney strategy.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;img class="preview" style="WIDTH: 191px; HEIGHT: 144px" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/R_XQZXNLZcI/AAAAAAAAAAw/T_f75WYh9bU/s320/DSC00920.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img class="preview" style="WIDTH: 157px; HEIGHT: 185px" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/R_XSe3NLZdI/AAAAAAAAAA4/4i3atMMo-ZM/s320/DSC00927.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After going from earlier than opening(did you know they let you in 1/2 hour early?) to parade we were pretty pooped. Somehow Monday at 2 we were discussing how it was Pat's last day of vacation and we decided to go back to Disney. Not the feat of strength.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We arrived at the parking structure and had to park in Donald, second level from the top. Pat had Jack and I had my bag, the coats, and Ella's hand. Somehow she let go, but I didn't notice. That is until 5 steps down Ella says "Mommy!?!" still at the top of the escalator. I have two choices watch my terrified child disappear as I cascade down the world's tallest escalator, or run back up. At this point 10 steps down, I decide I have to go for it. Like the world's worst Stairmaster I run up the escalator of course thinking " I can't do this" then remembering I have to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unbelievably I reach the top and grab Ella's hand!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After she gets on the people who were standing at the top watching the whole thing said "I can't believe you did that, I couldn't have done it." I asked if she had kids, she said yes, and I told her "yes, you could have."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt like the lady who lifts a car off of her child! I knew if I waited to go all the way down and all the way up we would lose visual contact and she would be in hysterics. And not for nothing, I didn't know who was at the top of that escalator!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img class="preview" style="WIDTH: 177px; HEIGHT: 223px" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/R_XSfHNLZeI/AAAAAAAAABA/ezUrdqRg-10/s320/dsc00938+(2).jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the bottom I made Pat take a picture of me in my moment of triumph and he said, "Aren't you glad you've been running?" I guess I'm not just dragging myself to the gym for a smaller butt.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4531498812378704022-7598480907974271438?l=itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/feeds/7598480907974271438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4531498812378704022&amp;postID=7598480907974271438' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/7598480907974271438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/7598480907974271438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/2008/04/feats-of-strength.html' title='Feats of Strength'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17986232781033357417</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/R_W-uHNLZXI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ixA-tuDJJrs/S220/DSC00685.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/R_XQZXNLZcI/AAAAAAAAAAw/T_f75WYh9bU/s72-c/DSC00920.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4531498812378704022.post-3456692724498556714</id><published>2008-04-03T22:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-03T22:32:11.881-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Maiden Voyage</title><content type='html'>When prompted to blog by my friend Ashley I told her I didn't really have anything to say.  "What, you have more to say than most people I know," was her reply.  I corrected myself.  I don't have anything to say that I won't regret saying within a month.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here is to putting my foot in my mouth not just in social situations but in cyberspace also.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4531498812378704022-3456692724498556714?l=itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/feeds/3456692724498556714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4531498812378704022&amp;postID=3456692724498556714' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/3456692724498556714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4531498812378704022/posts/default/3456692724498556714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://itsalwaysfunnierwhenithappenstome.blogspot.com/2008/04/maiden-voyage.html' title='Maiden Voyage'/><author><name>Lisa</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/17986232781033357417</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://bp2.blogger.com/_Wb_8IPY6Gs8/R_W-uHNLZXI/AAAAAAAAAAM/ixA-tuDJJrs/S220/DSC00685.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
