<?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-4663633665226912327</id><updated>2011-11-27T19:59:30.640-05:00</updated><category term='pictures'/><category term='basketball'/><category term='spirited child'/><category term='sick bed'/><category term='books'/><category term='living on a budget'/><category term='oxyclean'/><category term='lists'/><category term='Bible stories'/><category term='Thanksgiving'/><category term='bed wetting'/><category term='honey mustard dressing'/><category term='busy schedules'/><category term='Shortbread Lemon Bars'/><category term='dishwasher'/><category term='nail polish'/><category term='teen birthday presents'/><category term='birthdays'/><category term='laundry'/><category term='pumpkin bread'/><category term='memes'/><category term='sports'/><category term='date night at home'/><category term='Nintendo DS'/><category term='Christmas shopping'/><category term='PTA'/><category term='myspace'/><category term='recipes'/><category term='Christmas decorating'/><category term='reading'/><category term='budget'/><category term='sick kids'/><category term='photography'/><category term='Dick and Jane'/><category term='God'/><category term='Christmas'/><category term='school bus drivers'/><category term='quality time'/><category term='grocery bills'/><category term='fear of dentist'/><category term='grilled pork tenderloin'/><category term='tuna burgers'/><category term='school'/><category term='Boy Scouts'/><category term='7 random things about myself'/><category term='running'/><category term='Black Friday'/><category term='sweatshirt for teen'/><category term='hating school'/><category term='cyber school'/><category term='cross country'/><category term='teenager'/><category term='Christmas cookies'/><category term='EBay'/><category term='kids chores'/><category term='skiing'/><category term='snow'/><title type='text'>Mommy of Four</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>113</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-2199073267332711823</id><published>2009-07-17T10:36:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-17T11:49:45.068-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Tips on Road Trips with Kids</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://view.picapp.com/default.aspx?term=minivan&amp;amp;iid=4698302" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img height="248" alt="Chrysler Files For Chapter 11 Bankruptcy" src="http://cdn.picapp.com/ftp/Images/f/9/d/b/Chrysler_Files_For_9470.JPG?adImageId=1923193&amp;amp;imageId=4698302" width="380" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;script src="http://cdn.pis.picapp.com/IamProd/PicAppPIS/JavaScript/PisV4.js" type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We just got back from a very long, but not too excruciating road trip with our four children from Pennsylvania to Colorado. I was a little weary about how the kids would do on such a long trip. I planned for weeks. We do have some experience, though, with travelling long distances with our kids. We've been to Hilton Head, South Carolina six times, and Disney World once.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always listen to every tip I hear when someone talks about how to travel with kids, but I usually don't learn much. Here are some ideas that work with us. Hopefully you can get a few tips from my list that might work for you!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;We got the kids to bed by 10, got to bed right away ourselves, and got started by five in the morning. My husband and I just took a quick shower, grabbed our last couple items we needed, and threw the kids in the car. All four of them, from the ages of 15 to five fell back to sleep at least part of the time in the car.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;After a couple of hours, we ate our breakfast in the car. I packed granola bars, pop tarts, grapes, gogurts, and juice boxes so we could save time by not stopping for breakfast. We try to stop as little as possible. We try to make our first stop for bathroom breaks when we need gas, usually about 4 1/2 hours into the trip. Also, we literally run to the bathroom! It feels good and saves our precious time.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I break up the day into blocks of time. The first block is always rest/sleeping time. The next block is breakfast. After that they can get into their bag and choose an activity. My 5-year-old chose video games on her DS. My boys chose the XBox. Beware, though, to bring the XBox, you must wire it in directly to the battery to work properly, or you can bring an older system like the Gamecube. My 15-year-old chose to read her magazines and listen to her Ipod.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;After a couple of hours of an activity of their choice, we pick out a movie to watch that the whole family will enjoy, including my husband who actually drove the whole way. He can at least listen to it. I sit in the front and recline my seat to watch it. I bought new movies on Amazon really cheap! We got Heavyweights, The Brady Bunch season 2, Big, Innerspace, Bluestreak, and Prince Caspian. I figured we needed at least one new movie per traveling day, along with a couple of our older movies that the kids picked out. I also got a few that the kids could watch by themselves on one of the two portable DVD players, High School Musical 3, Rush Hour 3, and Entrapment.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;After movie time, we start watching for a McDonald's sign for lunch. If you stop after 12:30, the lines aren't as long. Once again, run. My husband gets the gas, I get in line with the list of what everyone told me in the car. If there's a play area, my oldest daughter takes the little kids to play for a couple of minutes while everyone takes turns using the bathroom. If there's no play area, my oldest daughter takes my youngest daughter to the bathroom, my oldest son takes my youngest son to the bathroom, then they meet me back in line and wait for the food (along with the list to make sure we got everything we ordered). I run to the bathroom, then we all jump back in the car. Eating lunch in the car saves so much time. We don't do anything else while we're eating. It's a great way to pass the time.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The next block of time is the kids choice again. Maybe someone else will play the XBox, someone will watch a movie they pick out on the portable DVD player, my son read his golf book, my oldest talks on her cell phone. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Then we play something together. We downloaded Uno Rush on the XBox and played that together. Boy was that fun, and it really passed the time while the kids laughed away! When we used to bring the Gamecube in the car, we brought Mario Cart. That's really fun, too.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;After the last bathroom stop, we play Mad libs. Mad libs are also a great thing to do if you get stuck in a traffic jam. The kids laugh their heads off and don't even realize they're in a traffic jam.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;One of the last things we do in the car is watch The Brady Bunch. For some reason, all four of the kids enjoy it! I do too!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;At the end of the trip, we all just watch the city we're coming into and start packing up the car from the mess we've made. There shouldn't be too much garbage because we keep a plastic bag hung over the arm rest for trash, but never less, there's always cleaning up to be done.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;I like to stop the day somewhere around dinner time. The kids have had it by then, like between 6 and 7. We stay at a hotel with a pool and whirlpool (for my husband and me to relax in!). We order pizza and have it delivered to the pool. We bring our own drinks, and relax for the evening. We like to stay at the Marriott's because many of them can accommodate six people in one room, two queen beds and a sofa bed. They also have a free breakfast in the morning, saving us precious time and money!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;When we start out on day two, we head out a little later, like 8 AM. Our hotel is always a little past halfway so we have a shorter distance the second day.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Another thing I do is have treats for the kids. I bring a little candy, and buy a new toy or magazine for them. I also borrowed a couple DS games and gave them to my youngest to play on the ride home when she's "had it". &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Of course I bring snacks. I try to bring some healthy ones that aren't too messy, cheese sticks, nuts, chex mix, fruit snacks, and yes, some chips too.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I think a long trip teaches the kids about patience and finding things to do to keep themselves busy. After this long trip to Denver, it sure will make our 13 hour trip to Hilton Head seem easy!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-2199073267332711823?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/2199073267332711823/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=2199073267332711823' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/2199073267332711823'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/2199073267332711823'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2009/07/tips-on-road-trips-with-kids.html' title='Tips on Road Trips with Kids'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-4187352752276319923</id><published>2009-06-07T15:07:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2009-06-07T15:32:33.622-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Like Father, Like Son</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.people.com/people/article/0,,20282845,00.html"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5344669715470665010" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/SiwUyfhqxTI/AAAAAAAAAfw/GrZOOMekuLg/s320/jon_gosselin.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is anyone else interested in all this drama about Jon and Kate? I actually don't watch the show very often, but I really admire Kate's energy raising eight kids. I was surprised to hear about their latest problems, so I have been watching a little more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week I was on the computer when I saw the caption, "Jon talks to People". I had to click on the latest video to see what Jon was going to say! As I was watching, my 13-year-old son walked in the room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What are you doing", he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm watching what Jon from Jon and Kate said to People magazine!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Because I want to see what he said!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why would you even waste your time watching this?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Wow) "You sound just like your father!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think he may be right, though. Why would I be wasting my time on this? I don't even know these people. Lots of people have marriage problems. Why do I want to spend my time watching this when there are so many better things I could be doing with my time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later, I told my husband about our conversation...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"...and he asked me why I was watching it, and he sounded just like you!", I said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I was going to say, why are you even wasting my time telling me this story?", my husband said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;OK&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;OK&lt;/span&gt;, they win! I will TRY to not watch the Jon and Kate drama anymore. I can't believe a 13-year-old can teach his mom a thing or two, pathetic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, does anyone else watch it?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-4187352752276319923?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/4187352752276319923/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=4187352752276319923' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/4187352752276319923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/4187352752276319923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2009/06/like-father-like-son.html' title='Like Father, Like Son'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/SiwUyfhqxTI/AAAAAAAAAfw/GrZOOMekuLg/s72-c/jon_gosselin.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-5137908982376722747</id><published>2009-03-16T09:16:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-16T15:28:14.685-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cyber school'/><title type='text'>What I Learned About Cyber-Schooling</title><content type='html'>I know I haven't been around much lately. I was starting to feel the guilt from so much time on the computer when my youngest wanted to play Candyland with me and I didn't have time because I was blogging. Soon she'll be grown up and won't want to play games with me anymore. This fall she'll be in school full time. I'll never get this time back again. I already feel like I don't have enough time to get everything done in the day, let alone play with her. I'm going to spend much less time blogging. But sometimes I have something to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Cyber School&lt;/strong&gt;. My 15-year old started high school this year, my old high school. Let me tell you it is NOT the same as when I went there. It's one of the better schools in the area, but I guess most schools now are very different. In one week time, she had her cell phone stolen, her hood off her jacket stolen, and two girls threatened her for "looking" at them in class. About a week after these things happened she wasn't feeling well and decided to take a day off. We had a great day. We talked about how much time is wasted in school, and how bad school can be sometimes. We decided to look into cyber schooling so she could spend more time at home. Fifteen is an impressionable age, and I feel between school and activities, she needed more time at home with her family. How else can you teach them if you don't have any time with them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It seems that everyone I mention cyber schooling to is either positive or negative about it. "Wow! That sounds great!", or "Oh... Well, how do you see your friends? I would miss my friends. I would never do my work at home on my own." For us, we found it to be a very positive experience:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Cyber schooling is your right being a tax payer, just like your decision to home school.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;It's very easy to get involved in it. We met with the counselor at school on a Friday, and started the next Monday.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;We were given a free brand new laptop and printer. We get reimbursed for our internet service. Our only expense is the paper.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My daughter is only taking health class to start, but has online help from 8-11PM. She can also use her laptop for her classes at school and even use the online teachers for help with her at-school classes.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;You can sign up for online any time throughout the year. We signed up at the beginning of the semester and she is already more than half-way done with the class. At school, they are only about 1/4 of the way done. She can work any time, as much as she wants. She only needs to make sure she spends at least the amount of time they do in school on it. BUT, when she's done with the class, she's done! It will be free time for her.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;What ever grade she gets in cyber school is the grade that will be put on her report card.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;She can take whatever class she wants, at any time. The school is very flexible. She can come in late in the morning or leave early from school. My daughter leaves 1 1/2 hours early every other day. If she has an activity after school that day, she can stay at school and work on a computer there. She's done that a few times and gets about three assignments done and all her homework for her other classes. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Gym class is the easiest. She'll be doing that next year. All she needs to do is log in 60 hours of physical activity within the year. That includes bowling, ski club, track, swimming, ice skating, roller skating, working out at the gym.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;p&gt;One of the counselors at school was very negative about it. He said she needs to be very disciplined and could get behind and most kids quit. Well my daughter is not every kid. She's a very fast worker. She actually loves school, so part time cyber schooling is the perfect mix for her. She can even get a job if she wants now. I just had a gut feeling that this was the best thing for my daughter. The cyber school even told us that some colleges require you to take an online class before they will accept you!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;There a lot of information online about it. Your school may even offer it. Ours did, but barely anyone knows about it because they're not allowed to advertise it. Maybe yours does too! If you are at all interested, check it out.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&gt;&lt;!--&lt;br /&gt;google_ad_client = "pub-2575448897140098";&lt;br /&gt;/* 234x60, created 3/16/09 */&lt;br /&gt;google_ad_slot = "7611219290";&lt;br /&gt;google_ad_width = 234;&lt;br /&gt;google_ad_height = 60;&lt;br /&gt;//--&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript"&lt;br /&gt;src="http://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/show_ads.js"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-5137908982376722747?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/5137908982376722747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=5137908982376722747' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/5137908982376722747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/5137908982376722747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2009/03/what-i-learned-about-cyber-schooling.html' title='What I Learned About Cyber-Schooling'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-7475818890963104576</id><published>2009-03-09T13:41:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-09T13:44:15.969-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Get 30% off at The Gap, Old Navy, and Banana Republic with this code:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://gap.p.delivery.net/m/p/gap/pvw/nprevieweml.asp?cid=15397452448&amp;amp;pid=758424&amp;amp;mid=1873240949"&gt;http://gap.p.delivery.net/m/p/gap/pvw/nprevieweml.asp?cid=15397452448&amp;amp;pid=758424&amp;amp;mid=1873240949&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;March 12-15 only.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-7475818890963104576?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/7475818890963104576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=7475818890963104576' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/7475818890963104576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/7475818890963104576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2009/03/get-30-off-at-gap-old-navy-and-banana.html' title=''/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-6081200310886002069</id><published>2008-05-14T09:28:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:13.681-05:00</updated><title type='text'>1st Day of Umping</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/SCrp7J29ENI/AAAAAAAAAU0/fQ3YkcpOGYg/s1600-h/IMG_3038a_2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200225922220626130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/SCrp7J29ENI/AAAAAAAAAU0/fQ3YkcpOGYg/s320/IMG_3038a_2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Last night was my son's first day of umping. This is just a picture of him playing in the last game. I'll have to get a picture of him umping. I guess he did pretty well! He only let a kid get 4 strikes one time. He said he was nervous for the first batter, then he felt confident. He made all the calls nice and loud and only had one shout out from the stands:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"STRIKE? That's more like golfing! FOUR!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a good thing that happened after my husband left. He told me he would escort anyone out of there who was mean to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/SCrp7p29EOI/AAAAAAAAAU8/lJUcXbAdtwY/s1600-h/IMG_2947a_1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200225930810560738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/SCrp7p29EOI/AAAAAAAAAU8/lJUcXbAdtwY/s320/IMG_2947a_1.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Here's my son pitching in last weeks game during the rain. It was a steady drizzle and got so dark, he couldn't even see the plate. That was pretty difficult for him.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/SCrp7p29EPI/AAAAAAAAAVE/QkSAHrTwHiE/s1600-h/IMG_2936_2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5200225930810560754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/SCrp7p29EPI/AAAAAAAAAVE/QkSAHrTwHiE/s320/IMG_2936_2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; During the game I looked over at one of the dads and saw his camera pointing at me! I thought, "I hope he's not taking one of me!". He was. He took tons of pictures of the whole team with his new fancy camera and sent them to the everyone. That was very nice of him. They came out really good, except for mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-6081200310886002069?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/6081200310886002069/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=6081200310886002069' title='23 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/6081200310886002069'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/6081200310886002069'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/05/1st-day-of-umping.html' title='1st Day of Umping'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/SCrp7J29ENI/AAAAAAAAAU0/fQ3YkcpOGYg/s72-c/IMG_3038a_2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>23</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-3936125715236236813</id><published>2008-05-09T09:22:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:14.074-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Anyone Watch Survivor?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/SCRSTX-k_WI/AAAAAAAAAUk/q67RZxdc0ts/s1600-h/Erik-Reichenbach_thumb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198370362699873634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/SCRSTX-k_WI/AAAAAAAAAUk/q67RZxdc0ts/s400/Erik-Reichenbach_thumb.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;For me, that was the saddest and most frustrating episode I ever saw! Early in the show yesterday, my son and I had Eric picked out as the winner. I guessed that he'd be up against Amanda for the final two. My son guessed he'd be up against &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Cirie&lt;/span&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;As soon as I heard &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Cirie&lt;/span&gt; mention the plan to get his immunity idol I said, "Oh, no!". I knew it was the end. Some may call him dumb, but I just feel sorry for him! He was too trusting. The girls were just plain mean. I just hope Natalie doesn't win. My favorite one of the whole show was Jason. His pathetic ending was similar to Eric's. He decided not to use his &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;immunity&lt;/span&gt; idol because he believed the others were going to vote someone else out. Here's my new pick for winner:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/SCRSqn-k_XI/AAAAAAAAAUs/GpN9q6zbSKs/s1600-h/Cirie-Fields_thumb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5198370762131832178" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/SCRSqn-k_XI/AAAAAAAAAUs/GpN9q6zbSKs/s400/Cirie-Fields_thumb.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Don't forget to watch the season finale on Sunday. So did you see Survivor last night? What did you think? Also, who's your pick for the winner?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-3936125715236236813?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/3936125715236236813/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=3936125715236236813' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/3936125715236236813'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/3936125715236236813'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/05/anyone-watch-survivor.html' title='Anyone Watch Survivor?'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/SCRSTX-k_WI/AAAAAAAAAUk/q67RZxdc0ts/s72-c/Erik-Reichenbach_thumb.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-2340645941515225262</id><published>2008-04-24T09:31:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:14.233-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Gas Prices Still on the Rise!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.cnn.com/2008/LIVING/04/23/gas.prices/index.html#cnnSTCVideo"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192804102843780226" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/SBCL0aIxzII/AAAAAAAAAUc/JyORuB7G0mM/s320/art_gas1_cnn.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; California has the highest gas prices in the US. Luckily some of the parents are starting to carpool to away games and other events. Is anyone else starting to ride their bikes and walk more? Where we live in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Northwestern&lt;/span&gt; PA gas is at $3.61, higher than the national average. What is the price of gas where you live?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-2340645941515225262?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/2340645941515225262/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=2340645941515225262' title='25 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/2340645941515225262'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/2340645941515225262'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/04/gas-prices-still-on-rise.html' title='Gas Prices Still on the Rise!'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/SBCL0aIxzII/AAAAAAAAAUc/JyORuB7G0mM/s72-c/art_gas1_cnn.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>25</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-1287489154244022660</id><published>2008-04-22T09:29:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:14.514-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Earth Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/SA3tbqIxzHI/AAAAAAAAAUU/eLxSIht1Irk/s1600-h/2w6rsxx.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192067004851407986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/SA3tbqIxzHI/AAAAAAAAAUU/eLxSIht1Irk/s320/2w6rsxx.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today is Earth Day. I didn't even realize it until we were getting my 7-year old ready for bed last night and he stated that he needed an Earth Day hat for today. "I won't be allowed to be in the Earth Day parade if I don't have an Earth Day hat made out of recycled stuff!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Ugh!) "Go tell your dad."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went upstairs to put my daughter to bed and found my husband folding, taping, and cutting the comic's section of the newspaper. I looked at him with a blank look. THAT is going to be his Earth Day hat? Then I looked at my son. He had a HUGE smile on his face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/SA3s1aIxzGI/AAAAAAAAAUM/WPExYmhlH6w/s1600-h/Picture+023.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5192066347721411682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/SA3s1aIxzGI/AAAAAAAAAUM/WPExYmhlH6w/s320/Picture+023.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Can I wear it on the way to school tomorrow?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sure! And what a great job YOU did on that hat!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Dad made it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(I know.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't realize that today was even Earth Day, but I find myself being more and more environmentally conscious all the time. What's on my mind mostly now is using less gas. I'm trying to drive as little as possible. I've been walking my son to and home from school every day. My husband even rides his bike to work. It's pretty far, about a 20 minute drive across town.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also try not to give my kids ride to places that they can walk. Yesterday my daughter asked me if I could drive her to her friend's house that was about 5 blocks away. "No. You can walk or ride your bike. And on your way could you stop at Grandma's house and pick up her paper for her (to save me a trip)?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then my 12-year old son's friend called and asked if he could go golfing. "Sure. Why don't you guys walk there?" It's only a few blocks away. His friend replied, "I'm not allowed to. And could YOUR mom drive us there?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-1287489154244022660?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/1287489154244022660/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=1287489154244022660' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/1287489154244022660'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/1287489154244022660'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/04/earth-day.html' title='Earth Day'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/SA3tbqIxzHI/AAAAAAAAAUU/eLxSIht1Irk/s72-c/2w6rsxx.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-9205725941422506100</id><published>2008-04-19T14:02:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:14.762-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Beautiful Day for a Day Off of School</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Yesterday the kids had the day off of school. It was a built in snow day to use if we had any snow days to make up, but we didn't, surprisingly! It was also the nicest day to have the day off. It was sunny and about 70'. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;One of my sons went fishing in the creek across the street.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/SAo37ZBlyXI/AAAAAAAAAUA/pKTeTnWK0x8/s1600-h/Picture+020.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191023013967284594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/SAo37ZBlyXI/AAAAAAAAAUA/pKTeTnWK0x8/s320/Picture+020.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My oldest daughter just "hung out" under a tree.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/SAo1-pBlyWI/AAAAAAAAAT4/9PAU65idl9k/s1600-h/Picture+019.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191020870778603874" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/SAo1-pBlyWI/AAAAAAAAAT4/9PAU65idl9k/s320/Picture+019.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My 4-year old just runs around everyone all day.&lt;br&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;My 12-year old played two rounds of golf and then some basketball.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;What did I do? The usual - raking, washing windows, laundry, scrubbing down the back of the house. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;So what do you do on a beautiful day like this?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-9205725941422506100?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/9205725941422506100/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=9205725941422506100' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/9205725941422506100'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/9205725941422506100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/04/beautiful-day-for-day-off-of-school.html' title='A Beautiful Day for a Day Off of School'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/SAo37ZBlyXI/AAAAAAAAAUA/pKTeTnWK0x8/s72-c/Picture+020.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-2961369705803465500</id><published>2008-04-15T09:27:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:15.210-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Couple of Good Deals</title><content type='html'>I must admit, I love to shop. But what I love most of all, is a good deal. Here are a couple of good deals that I came upon recently:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Sign up for sale alerts at &lt;a href="http://www.kohls.com/kohlsStore/homepage.jsp"&gt;Kohl's online&lt;/a&gt; and receive a $5.00 coupon to use on anything in the store and also a 10% coupon for any online purchase. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/SASy7ckjNfI/AAAAAAAAATo/eYI3qyoloO4/s1600-h/SUFSA_img_v1_m56577569833272264.gif"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189469404989175282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/SASy7ckjNfI/AAAAAAAAATo/eYI3qyoloO4/s200/SUFSA_img_v1_m56577569833272264.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Also, today is the last day for free shipping at &lt;a href="http://www.landsend.com/"&gt;Lands End&lt;/a&gt;. I bought myself a pair of sandals, but they have some great clearance items. For example, kids action sandals are only $7.99.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/SASzO8kjNgI/AAAAAAAAATw/eHLROo5r2ec/s1600-h/186643_AG07_M1_TEQ.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5189469739996624386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/SASzO8kjNgI/AAAAAAAAATw/eHLROo5r2ec/s200/186643_AG07_M1_TEQ.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;They also have TONS of women's bathing suits on sale.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love Lands End because I can return the items at Sears, so I don't have to pay for shipping. Also, you can return any item, for any reason, at any time, even without a receipt! What store can say that nowadays?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-2961369705803465500?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/2961369705803465500/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=2961369705803465500' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/2961369705803465500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/2961369705803465500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/04/couple-of-good-deals.html' title='A Couple of Good Deals'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/SASy7ckjNfI/AAAAAAAAATo/eYI3qyoloO4/s72-c/SUFSA_img_v1_m56577569833272264.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-235252450303749419</id><published>2008-04-12T10:57:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:15.500-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm finally back to the bloggy world! This is the longest break I've taken. I think I could spend the whole day today just reading everyone's blogs and commenting!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been working hard all week trying to finish my spring cleaning. BTW, I'm still not finished. I've washed windows, curtains, carpets, cleaned closets, organized bedrooms, and on and on. I still need to clean my couches, finish washing windows and curtains, clean the garage and basement, and tons of outside work. I wish I was one of the lucky ones who could just hire someone to do it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the middle of all this cleaning, my dryer broke! Help! I was just getting ready to do FIVE loads when my dryer wouldn't turn back on. I already had it fixed once, and it IS 15 years old, so we decided to just buy a new one. Problem was, the dryer we picked out wouldn't be delivered for a week! I have four kids and can't go one day without doing laundry, so I've been taking all my wet laundry to my mom's house. It took up a lot of my time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/SADTJGSSZtI/AAAAAAAAATQ/sPlwiI4Ebdk/s1600-h/Picture+017.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188378923990410962" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/SADTJGSSZtI/AAAAAAAAATQ/sPlwiI4Ebdk/s320/Picture+017.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyway, my husband found a great deal online! We paid only $260! It was a clearance model that just happened to be top of the line! How could I pass this up? There are so many buttons, that I need to study the manual just to figure out how to work it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/SADSvGSSZsI/AAAAAAAAATI/Rj6CHDyfZKE/s1600-h/Picture+016.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5188378477313812162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/SADSvGSSZsI/AAAAAAAAATI/Rj6CHDyfZKE/s320/Picture+016.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm sure I won't use all the options, but one really cool feature - the sweater dryer. You lay your sweater neatly on the rack to it doesn't get tossed around in the dryer. Hey, who knows, maybe the antibacterial cycle will come in handy! I just got it yesterday, so I play on trying it all out today, along with catching up on all my blogging!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-235252450303749419?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/235252450303749419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=235252450303749419' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/235252450303749419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/235252450303749419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/04/im-finally-back-to-bloggy-world-this-is.html' title=''/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/SADTJGSSZtI/AAAAAAAAATQ/sPlwiI4Ebdk/s72-c/Picture+017.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-1626519384671755110</id><published>2008-04-07T08:27:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-08T08:34:06.779-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I was tagged by Cathy at &lt;a href="http://bit-of-blarney.blogspot.com/"&gt;A Bit of the Blarney&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. The rules of the game get posted at the beginning.&lt;br /&gt;2. Each player answers the questions about themselves.&lt;br /&gt;3. At the end of the post, the player tags 5 people and posts their name, then goes to their blogs and leaves them a comment, letting them know they've been tagged and asking them to read your blog.&lt;br /&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What I was doing 10 years ago:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ten years ago I only had two kids and was living in my old small house. I didn't realize how easy I had it then!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Five Snacks I enjoy:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Ice Cream&lt;br /&gt;2. Chocolate&lt;br /&gt;3. Nachos&lt;br /&gt;4. Homemade Cookies&lt;br /&gt;5. Chips and Dip&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Things I would do if I were a billionaire:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. A billion dollars is a lot of money. Of course I would give to charities!&lt;br /&gt;2. Buy a new house with a bigger yard.&lt;br /&gt;3. Travel - England, Hawaii, Caribbean.&lt;br /&gt;4. Buy a house in Hilton Head.&lt;br /&gt;5. Go out to eat more often!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Five jobs that I have had:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Teacher&lt;br /&gt;2. Pizza maker&lt;br /&gt;3. Convenience store clerk&lt;br /&gt;4. Wife&lt;br /&gt;5. Stay-at-home mommy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Three of my habits:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Blogging too much!&lt;br /&gt;2. Playing Spider Solitaire (I love to play the hard version).&lt;br /&gt;3. Always looking at what I need to clean next.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Five place I have lived:&lt;/strong&gt; (This is easy)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Northwestern, PA&lt;br /&gt;2. Northwestern, PA&lt;br /&gt;3. Northwestern, PA&lt;br /&gt;4. Northwestern, PA&lt;br /&gt;5. Northwestern, PA&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Yes, I've lived in the same city my whole life!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Five People I Want to Get to Know Better:&lt;/strong&gt; (a nice way of saying TAG!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color:#0000ff;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://thankfulforanotherday.blogspot.com/"&gt;Thankful for Another Day&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. &lt;a href="http://renaissancemama.blogspot.com/"&gt;Renaissance Mama&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color:#0000ff;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://theresakrier.blogspot.com/"&gt;The Journey Begins Here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. &lt;a href="http://frumpmama.blogspot.com/"&gt;Stuck in Frump, Striving for Fab&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. &lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color:#0000ff;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://jugglinglife.typepad.com/juggling_life/"&gt;Juggling Life&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-1626519384671755110?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/1626519384671755110/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=1626519384671755110' title='19 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/1626519384671755110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/1626519384671755110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/04/i-was-tagged-by-cathy-at-bit-of-blarney.html' title=''/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>19</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-5826529818321443350</id><published>2008-04-05T10:48:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:16.479-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm a garbage collector</title><content type='html'>I don't go to a lot of garage sales. I usually only go to the ones in my neighborhood. What I really like to do, though, is take home the good stuff that other people are throwing away. I usually find my "treasures" while on my walks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I picked up this really nice basket just last Sunday. We were coming home from my mom's house and I told my husband to pull over. He didn't want to, but I wouldn't take no for an answer. I told my son to go see if it looked all right. Meanwhile, hubby was practically hiding under the seat from embarrassment. Who couldn't use a basket like this? Why just let this get thrown into the landfill?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R_eVkmuTWxI/AAAAAAAAAS4/XTW-Hci9Fus/s1600-h/Picture+012.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185777952042998546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R_eVkmuTWxI/AAAAAAAAAS4/XTW-Hci9Fus/s320/Picture+012.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a makeup table I got from another neighbor's house. I didn't even know this neighbor, but I saw her putting it out and met her. It was her table from when she was little. It has a glass top which was in perfect condition. I painted it white, and now my daughter uses it every day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R_eanWuTWyI/AAAAAAAAATA/kra6UtUyKpM/s1600-h/Picture+013.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185783496845777698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R_eanWuTWyI/AAAAAAAAATA/kra6UtUyKpM/s320/Picture+013.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I picked up this desk from another neighbor. It's actually a student desk, but I painted it white, and put it next to our bookcases in our bedroom. My husband uses it all the time to do work on his laptop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R_eUZWuTWvI/AAAAAAAAASo/VzOkZPfNNCY/s1600-h/Picture+014.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185776659257842418" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R_eUZWuTWvI/AAAAAAAAASo/VzOkZPfNNCY/s320/Picture+014.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weirdest thing I ever picked up: &lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R_eT5muTWuI/AAAAAAAAASg/QQZQrv9NH1U/s1600-h/p_4464_10568.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5185776113796995810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R_eT5muTWuI/AAAAAAAAASg/QQZQrv9NH1U/s320/p_4464_10568.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yes, I really did. I was, once again, on my Sunday evening walk, when I noticed a bag of cat litter at the end of my neighbor's driveway. It had a sign on it :FREE CAT LITTER&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I thought, what kind of joke is this? Then I saw in smaller print, "We changed the kind of litter we used." Oh, it's UNUSED litter. Well, I have a cat. He doesn't care what kind of litter is in his box. I may as well bring it home. Also, I knew this neighbor. She and her husband are both teachers at the local college. They're normal people. When I got home and walked in the door I said, "Hey, dear, you'll never believe what I brought home tonight!" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"I don't believe it!", he said.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-5826529818321443350?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/5826529818321443350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=5826529818321443350' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/5826529818321443350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/5826529818321443350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/04/im-garbage-collector.html' title='I&apos;m a garbage collector'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R_eVkmuTWxI/AAAAAAAAAS4/XTW-Hci9Fus/s72-c/Picture+012.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-3445416495474983632</id><published>2008-04-01T22:07:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:16.643-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Every Day Is Earth Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R_LtlmuTWtI/AAAAAAAAASY/bNFcZm1N9Z0/s1600-h/Picture+011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184467351362558674" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R_LtlmuTWtI/AAAAAAAAASY/bNFcZm1N9Z0/s320/Picture+011.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yesterday was such a beautiful day! It was sunny and warm. The kids were all playing outside (in the mud). I decided to take my youngest two across the street to our little park to pick up some of the garbage left over from the winter. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Usually we go over a few times a year to clean it up. I haven't been there for about a whole year. There was so much garbage! We each took a bag to fill up, and we had to dump our bags three times back at home. I've never seen anyone else over there cleaning up. Just at the end of the street there were about 6 milk cartons stuck in the bushes. All the plastic bags... We cleaned up the leftovers of a teenager's party. It was quite an adventure - fishing cans out of a lake that had formed, climbing through bushes, and stepping in what my son called (quick sand).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;April 19 is the United Way Day of Caring. Our Boy Scouts will be cleaning up the beach. Afterwards, lunch will be provided. That's great. It teaches the kids that in order to keep our world clean, we all need to work together. But why do we need a special day to clean up? EVERY day should be Earth Day! We should all work together to not only keep our beaches clean, but our neighborhoods, too. I've been looking at the garbage across the street for weeks now. No one else ever goes over to help. The Day of Caring will be filled with people.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This was my recycling can that was empty before we started picking up the garbage. This does not include the non-recyclables that were thrown in the regular cans.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-3445416495474983632?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/3445416495474983632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=3445416495474983632' title='20 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/3445416495474983632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/3445416495474983632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/04/every-day-is-earth-day.html' title='Every Day Is Earth Day'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R_LtlmuTWtI/AAAAAAAAASY/bNFcZm1N9Z0/s72-c/Picture+011.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>20</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-7341486306834355295</id><published>2008-03-30T22:42:00.011-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:17.440-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memes'/><title type='text'>My Purse</title><content type='html'>This is funny because only us women can relate. What do you carry in your purse? &lt;a href="http://www.classychaos.com/"&gt;OHMommy&lt;/a&gt; challenged me to share the contents of my purse with the bloggy world. I would love to take a look into everone's purse. My hubby just can't understand why we want to know? Because we're girls! This is what we do!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think my purse reflects me. It's nothing really that special. Having 4 kids and being a SAHM doesn't allow me to spend too much on myself. I've recently downsized. My purse is just big enough to carry my essentials, but not too big so it doesn't become a catch-all. I weed out all the junk every time I sit down to write the bills. I used to carry a large purse, but then I decided all it did for me was allow me to carry too many papers and toys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is my purse:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R_BRqmuTWoI/AAAAAAAAARw/9XB8KBoIcDU/s1600-h/Picture+005.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183732963494550146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R_BRqmuTWoI/AAAAAAAAARw/9XB8KBoIcDU/s320/Picture+005.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After looking at this photo, I realized my wallet has seen better days, and I need a new one! I have $61.00 in it. I always carry cash because being a mom of 4, three of which are in school, I'm always handing money out for something - lunch money, allowance, money for the book fair, etc&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R_BTrWuTWsI/AAAAAAAAASQ/Udny-DohOfo/s1600-h/Picture+010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183735175402707650" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R_BTrWuTWsI/AAAAAAAAASQ/Udny-DohOfo/s320/Picture+010.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I also carry my checkbook, Rimmel Stay Matte powder foundation, glasses (I only use them to drive at night or to watch a movie), coupon books for the local restaurants (my mother-in-law bought these for me), 50/50 tickets that my boys are selling for their baseball teams, lip gloss, and lip liner.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R_BTqmuTWrI/AAAAAAAAASI/V22Kg8pYTxY/s1600-h/Picture+007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183735162517805746" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R_BTqmuTWrI/AAAAAAAAASI/V22Kg8pYTxY/s320/Picture+007.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;In my little side pocket, I have my cell phone, insurance and library card, chap stick, Bath and Body Works lip gloss, my son's money, and tweezers (I was looking for those!).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183735153927871138" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R_BTqGuTWqI/AAAAAAAAASA/kKXry7ciDmM/s320/Picture+008.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the bottom of my purse, I found my car keys, a cherry Halls cough drop, and a quarter.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5183735136748001938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R_BTpGuTWpI/AAAAAAAAAR4/v40kMbo8BOs/s320/Picture+009.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Now I want to see what's in your purse! Will you show and tell? I challenge &lt;a href="http://lifeaccordingtolizzy.blogspot.com/"&gt;Lizzy&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://frumpmama.blogspot.com/"&gt;Becky&lt;/a&gt; &lt;a href="http://flynnards.blogspot.com/"&gt;Leslie&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://weddingsx3.blogspot.com/"&gt;Debbie&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://laughingleahloveslillies.blogspot.com/"&gt;Leah&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://momto3cubs.blogspot.com/"&gt;Kila&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://kittywrinkle.blogspot.com/"&gt;Kitty&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://murryssnapshots.blogspot.com/"&gt;Mary&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://renaissancemama.blogspot.com/"&gt;Dawn&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://summersnook.com/"&gt;Summer&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://www.theburghbaby.com/"&gt;BurghBaby&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://ivecomeundone.blogspot.com/"&gt;Zoe&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://little-but-loud.blogspot.com/"&gt;Shellie&lt;/a&gt;, and&lt;a href="http://kelly4.blogspot.com/"&gt; Amy&lt;/a&gt;. Is there anyone else who would like to do it? Please share!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-7341486306834355295?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/7341486306834355295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=7341486306834355295' title='23 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/7341486306834355295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/7341486306834355295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/03/my-purse.html' title='My Purse'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R_BRqmuTWoI/AAAAAAAAARw/9XB8KBoIcDU/s72-c/Picture+005.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>23</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-2599662017710292377</id><published>2008-03-28T13:28:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:17.597-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthdays'/><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Son!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R-1nBmuTWnI/AAAAAAAAARo/5JAo5jtHRjE/s1600-h/Picture+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182912023445592690" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R-1nBmuTWnI/AAAAAAAAARo/5JAo5jtHRjE/s320/Picture+001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today is my older son's birthday. He turned 12 today. I love to celebrate my kids birthdays. I love how excited they get. We're not doing anything big, just inviting a few of his friends over for pizza, cupcakes, and of course, video games.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was younger, I could never imagine myself with older kids. I didn't want to imagine myself with older kids! Now that I have two in middle school, I love it more than anything. They're just taking their first steps into becoming an adult by doing a lot of things for themselves and becoming more independent, but he still loves his mommy and hugs and kisses me every day. He would be embarassed if he knew I was saying this!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My now twelve-year old was both my easiest and hardest baby out of all four. I had him one week late, and knew he was going to be a large baby. I was induced at 7:00 in the morning and he literally popped out only 3 hours later, broken collar bone and all. He weighed in at... 9lb 11 oz! He's still a big baby, I mean big boy today. And I just thanked him yesterday for being the most easy-going of my kids. He replied, "Your welcome, mommy!".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-2599662017710292377?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/2599662017710292377/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=2599662017710292377' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/2599662017710292377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/2599662017710292377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/03/happy-birthday-son.html' title='Happy Birthday Son!'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R-1nBmuTWnI/AAAAAAAAARo/5JAo5jtHRjE/s72-c/Picture+001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-9104184889852844493</id><published>2008-03-27T08:32:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:17.784-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Kids' Misunderstandings...</title><content type='html'>Just about as fast as my son got so terribly sick the other day, he got&lt;br /&gt;better&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R-uUdGuTWmI/AAAAAAAAARg/8D8IIHNyEc4/s1600-h/Picture.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5182399023961823842" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R-uUdGuTWmI/AAAAAAAAARg/8D8IIHNyEc4/s320/Picture.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. His missed his library day at school and was very upset because&lt;br /&gt; he wanted to get a magic book, so I told him I would get him one from the library. I found this neat magic book for kids with simple tricks to do. He was very excited. He learned how to do the levitating lady. Then he told me, "But mom! I want to learn how to do REAL magic tricks!". At 7, he still didn't know that magic tricks were actually tricks and not real.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile yesterday, my 4-year old was very upset. She calls her 11-year old brother her "boyfriend". She told me that he said he wouldn't marry her, though he does love her very much. I tried to explain to her that brothers and sisters can't marry each other. She burst into tears! "But I WANT to marry him!" So cute. Next she asked me, "Then how do mommys and daddys marry each other?", as if they were always family. I wonder what else the kids are confused about!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-9104184889852844493?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/9104184889852844493/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=9104184889852844493' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/9104184889852844493'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/9104184889852844493'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/03/kids-misunderstandings.html' title='Kids&apos; Misunderstandings...'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R-uUdGuTWmI/AAAAAAAAARg/8D8IIHNyEc4/s72-c/Picture.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-6904555577728392038</id><published>2008-03-25T09:09:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:18.216-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The First Day of School</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R-j7SmuTWjI/AAAAAAAAARI/4MkZc_V0R7U/s1600-h/Picture+027.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181667668340726322" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R-j7SmuTWjI/AAAAAAAAARI/4MkZc_V0R7U/s320/Picture+027.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today my kids went back to their new middle school. It was like the first day of school. They've been off school for the last 10 days for spring break. My daughter couldn't sleep last night and was up before her alarm went off.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;As you may know, our middle school has been under construction for the past year and a half. This is the first time my sixth grader is going to a real middle school. My 6th and 8th grader are in the same school together now. The best part is that my daughter can sleep in! She was being bussed to an old city school and had to get up at 6 to catch the bus at 6:45. Now she can sleep in until 7 because school doesn't start until 8:20 and they can walk there! They have special "green" tshirts to wear to school today, and my daughter walked out the door in just the tshirt! It was only 29' ! I told her she had to wear a jacket and she said she had one, a sweatshirt over her arm. The sun was shining and there was no wind. For us here up north, this is considered a beautiful day. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Going back to their own middle school affects me too! Before I had to set my alarm at 6:15 to make sure my daughter was up. Then I'd go back to bed at 6:45 and reset my alarm for 7:15 to make sure my son was up. Then I'd go back to bed again for another 15 minutes and make sure he was out the door by 7:45. Now I can just get up at 7:15! Also, my daughter has soccer practice after school today and I don't have to pick her up from downtown! She can walk home with her friend! Her temp school was in a pretty bad neighborhood. When I used to pick her up, one of the city schools was just getting out of school, too. They were a rough bunch. They used to walk down the middle of the street and stare at you. One time one kid pushed another kid into my car. Another time my daughter was waiting outside the school from soccer tryouts for my husband to pick her up, and a bunch of kids from that city school were walking down the street. The kids started to walk up to my daughter and her friends with snowballs in their hands. One of the girls, and they were bigger kids, said, "I'd run if I were you!". Well my daughter and her friends DID run back into the school and told a teacher. I guess this is why EVERY student has to either take the bus or get a ride home from school there. Now we don't have to worry about that anymore.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So after having these last 10 days off, my 7-year old, the school hater, woke up sick. I was all ready to send him anyway when I noticed his cheeks were flushed... 102.9 temp! He's staying home today. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R-kqJmuTWkI/AAAAAAAAARQ/WnSncYQ3wpI/s1600-h/TheMoleUK.png"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5181719190768409154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R-kqJmuTWkI/AAAAAAAAARQ/WnSncYQ3wpI/s320/TheMoleUK.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Changing subjects... I was watching my favorite The Bachelor last night when I noticed very quickly the words "The Mole" go across the screen. No commercial, just the words for a split second. Did I just see The Mole? That used to be my favorite TV show! I ran to the computer and searched for ABC The Mole and found an article about it coming back and they're casting people! No, I'm not going to tryout for it. I'm just super excited to watch it! I told my daughter about it last night when she couldn't sleep and she said, "Oh, that's just great! Now I'm REALLY not going to be able to sleep!" It's coming on this summer. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-6904555577728392038?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/6904555577728392038/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=6904555577728392038' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/6904555577728392038'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/6904555577728392038'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/03/first-day-of-school.html' title='The First Day of School'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R-j7SmuTWjI/AAAAAAAAARI/4MkZc_V0R7U/s72-c/Picture+027.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-8741260075297574154</id><published>2008-03-23T16:05:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-04-02T12:11:29.584-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='7 random things about myself'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I was tagged my by new bloggy friend Maria at &lt;a href="http://blessingsinmylife.blogspot.com/"&gt;God's Blessings &lt;/a&gt;for Seven Random Things...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rules are:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Link to your tagger and post these rules on your blog.&lt;br /&gt;2. Share 7 facts about yourself on your blog, some random, some weird.&lt;br /&gt;3. Tag 7 people at the end of your post by leaving their names as well as links to their blogs.&lt;br /&gt;4. Let them know they are tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here are my 7 random things:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;I love to cook and eat! I love to try new recipes, bake cakes and pies, make fancy drinks. I wish I had more time to do it, though. Someday when the kids are older...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;I'm 37 and just started jogging this year. I've never been a runner, and still don't do it as much as I'd like, but I love the feeling that I actually CAN run!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;My favorite vacation spot is Hilton Head, South Carolina! We've gone with my family now 4 times and we have our house booked for this summer too! To me, it's the most beautiful place in the US. I've never been to Hawaii, but I bet it's the closest thing to it.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;I have one sister, &lt;a href="http://ourpieceoftheworld.blogspot.com/"&gt;Irene&lt;/a&gt;, and no brothers. Growing up, I always wished I had a big family like some of our neighbors, or The Brady Bunch, or Eight Is Enough. I always knew I wanted a large family and now have 2 boys and 2 girls. I'd have more if I had the time and money!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;One embarassing fact... I'm afraid to put my toes under my bed. When I make my bed, I have to stand far enough away so that they don't stick under the dust ruffle. One time I decided I wasn't going to be afraid anymore and made my bed with my toes sticking under my bed. "Ouch!" My CAT was under my bed and attacked my toes! Never again have I done that!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;I can't go to bed without reading. Even if I go to bed really late, I still have to read at least a couple of pages. I'm reading an Agatha Christie book now.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;My house is a constant work in progress. We are living in our second fixer upper and have even redone some of the rooms two times! I always have plans in my head about what I want to do next. I want to put in a gas fireplace and built in bookcases in my living room, and add a closet and paint our mudroom next.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I don't know who hasn't done this meme yet, so please do it if you haven't!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-8741260075297574154?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/8741260075297574154/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=8741260075297574154' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/8741260075297574154'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/8741260075297574154'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/03/i-was-tagged-my-by-new-bloggy-friend.html' title=''/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-2800260314935303060</id><published>2008-03-19T09:22:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:18.529-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Doing Jigsaw Puzzles</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R-Fabz1hiII/AAAAAAAAARA/-45LMwH7hhs/s1600-h/Picture+097.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179520480270452866" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R-Fabz1hiII/AAAAAAAAARA/-45LMwH7hhs/s320/Picture+097.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When was the last time you sat down and worked a jigsaw puzzle? We finally started my son's baseball puzzle yesterday that he got for Christmas. The kids really love doing them, as long as I do them with them. We found that this one is our favorite kind of puzzle. It's called White Mountain. There's so much detail and so much going on in it, that we each pick a different part of the puzzle to work on, then combine our parts and start working together. We also have the Presidents and Historic Pennsylvania ones.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It's so funny how after a while of working on a puzzle, the kids start to get so weird! My youngest two stopped for a while to dance to the music on a Finding Nemo book. My oldest was saying the weirdest comments back to them. I even found myself singing old commercials and other things that I'm too embarrassed to admit to. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R-FZwz1hiHI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/cBJcQu2DJdI/s1600-h/Picture+098.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179519741536077938" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R-FZwz1hiHI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/cBJcQu2DJdI/s320/Picture+098.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Try one of these White Mountain puzzles with your kids! It's a nice changed from video games. It's also nice spending that much time with the kids. We only spent about... four hours!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-2800260314935303060?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/2800260314935303060/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=2800260314935303060' title='22 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/2800260314935303060'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/2800260314935303060'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/03/doing-jigsaw-puzzles.html' title='Doing Jigsaw Puzzles'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R-Fabz1hiII/AAAAAAAAARA/-45LMwH7hhs/s72-c/Picture+097.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>22</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-2102353794060628643</id><published>2008-03-16T21:36:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:18.667-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Haircuts</title><content type='html'>When I first married my husband, he only had a few haircuts at the barber before he started to ask me to cut his hair. At first I didn't want to. I didn't know how. He said he didn't care. "Just cut it shorter." I purchased a pair of cheap hair scissors at the grocery store and have cut his hair ever since! His hair is really short, and not to mention not very much there anymore, so you'd never guess it was done by me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I had kids, I cut their hair when they were little. My 14-year old only had her first real haircut just last year when she wanted to get layers. I really didn't want to try that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last summer my 11-year old wanted to grow out his short hair. His hair grows really fast and I didn't cut it for the end of 5th grade and the whole summer. At the end of the summer he got his first real haircut. After all, he was going to be a big 6th grader in the big middle school! I couldn't cut his hair after that because I don't know how to do anything stylish. Well tonight I decided he needed a little trim, and I didn't want to spend any money, so I gave him a haircut. I think it came out pretty good! I'm proud of myself! I even changed it a little. I parted it on the side. I don't know if I can keep this up with him without ruining it completely, but boy am I saving money doing this. Haircuts for six people would really add up fast! By the way, he liked it, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R93L7z1hiGI/AAAAAAAAAQw/5ixhjgzkhHo/s1600-h/Picture+091.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5178519374933362786" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R93L7z1hiGI/AAAAAAAAAQw/5ixhjgzkhHo/s320/Picture+091.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's my 7-year old looking up at his "cool" big brother. I gave him a haircut tonight, too, but it's nothing very exciting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-2102353794060628643?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/2102353794060628643/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=2102353794060628643' title='22 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/2102353794060628643'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/2102353794060628643'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/03/haircuts.html' title='Haircuts'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R93L7z1hiGI/AAAAAAAAAQw/5ixhjgzkhHo/s72-c/Picture+091.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>22</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-2878051434875586778</id><published>2008-03-14T09:35:00.012-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:20.227-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Finally a New Computer</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;We got our scratch and dent Dell a couple of days ago. That's why I haven't been on anyone's blogs lately. We've been trying to fix it! Every time we get on the internet, it freezes up! We called Dell, they walked us through all kinds of steps and told us it's good as new. The next day, it froze up again. We called again, they walked us through all kinds of steps, and said it was as good as new. Yesterday, again, the computer froze up. We called AGAIN, same thing, as good as new. Well we tried it out after we got off the phone with them. It froze up again! So, anyway, we're still trying to fix it, and we're not very happy about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R9qAkT1hh7I/AAAAAAAAAPc/tK65z4WuhK8/s1600-h/Picture+027.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177592082904221618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R9qAkT1hh7I/AAAAAAAAAPc/tK65z4WuhK8/s320/Picture+027.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Yesterday we went to go visit the new "green" middle school that my 11 and 14-year olds will be attending after spring break. It was very nice!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R9qBHz1hh8I/AAAAAAAAAPk/WXDW8DE2Oig/s1600-h/Picture+003.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177592692789577666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R9qBHz1hh8I/AAAAAAAAAPk/WXDW8DE2Oig/s320/Picture+003.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The windows are arranged in a way to allow maximum sunlight, so they can cut down on the electricity. They got all new tables and chairs. I'm left-handed. I remember being in school and sitting in those desks that are made for right-handed.&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;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R9qC_D1hh_I/AAAAAAAAAP8/6iRF1xbbeCw/s1600-h/Picture+019.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177594741488977906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R9qC_D1hh_I/AAAAAAAAAP8/6iRF1xbbeCw/s320/Picture+019.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is family consumer science. Look at the beautiful appliances!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R9qD3j1hiBI/AAAAAAAAAQM/lhy8IdYVm8o/s1600-h/Picture+022.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177595712151586834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R9qD3j1hiBI/AAAAAAAAAQM/lhy8IdYVm8o/s320/Picture+022.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My daughter will finally have a locker again, though they look a little small. I don't know how they'll ever get a three-ringed binder in there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R9qBrT1hh9I/AAAAAAAAAPs/7Dqa1rhrzKU/s1600-h/Picture+009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177593302674933714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R9qBrT1hh9I/AAAAAAAAAPs/7Dqa1rhrzKU/s320/Picture+009.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; My favorite part of the school is the auditorium. It's the same stage, just refinished. There are all new seats and carpeting, and the whole thing is now handicapped accessible. Also, they're going to rent out the auditorium when it is needed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R9qN2T1hiEI/AAAAAAAAAQk/K5-luQV6KcI/s1600-h/Picture+021.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177606685793028162" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R9qN2T1hiEI/AAAAAAAAAQk/K5-luQV6KcI/s320/Picture+021.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This it the courtyard. We found what they did with the old chalkboards! Maybe they're going to use it as an outdoor classroom? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R9qGoz1hiDI/AAAAAAAAAQc/2pSfYX5Tj4s/s1600-h/Picture+012.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177598757283399730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R9qGoz1hiDI/AAAAAAAAAQc/2pSfYX5Tj4s/s320/Picture+012.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The gym was beautiful! They refinished the old floors and doors, put in new bleachers on both sides of the gym, opened up the ceiling and added insulation. It used to get so beastly hot in there during the basketball games! They also added a workout room!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R9qCez1hh-I/AAAAAAAAAP0/EbEG1-VeT-8/s1600-h/Picture+014.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177594187438196706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R9qCez1hh-I/AAAAAAAAAP0/EbEG1-VeT-8/s320/Picture+014.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; In my opinion, the cafeteria was the what need the most work. Before, there were only two lunch lines. When I went here, we stood in line with our lunch until lunch period was over! Now there are different counters that you pick and choose what you want and 4 places to pay. They have a pasta bar, a salad bar, a deli bar, a snack bar with fruit slushies, hot pretzels, and baked chips, an a la carte line, and the full lunch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R9qElD1hiCI/AAAAAAAAAQU/4NSIlhxEiL4/s1600-h/Picture+026.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5177596493835634722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R9qElD1hiCI/AAAAAAAAAQU/4NSIlhxEiL4/s320/Picture+026.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I'm embarrassed to say this is my daughter and her friends. She just got out of soccer tryouts. She usually doesn't look this way! I made her take off that ugly black hat. By the way, she made the team. Actually everyone who tried out made the team because there weren't enough girls. Oh, see the sink in the background of this picture? It's a demonstration sink, not for drinking or even washing hands. It's rainwater that was collected from the roof and powered by wind and the sun. For such an expensive school, I'm impressed that it's so nice, without being over-the-top.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-2878051434875586778?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/2878051434875586778/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=2878051434875586778' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/2878051434875586778'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/2878051434875586778'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/03/finally-new-computer.html' title='Finally a New Computer'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R9qAkT1hh7I/AAAAAAAAAPc/tK65z4WuhK8/s72-c/Picture+027.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-378203261151357114</id><published>2008-03-11T09:23:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:20.355-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Enjoy the Days We Get</title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5176475464421705634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R9aJAj1hh6I/AAAAAAAAAPU/gaH4kgIiDQc/s320/2ns0v4o.jpg" border="0" /&gt;It's March now, and for many of us, we are looking forward to getting rid of the snow we have and seeing some signs of spring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Call me crazy, but I can actually say I'm enjoying this weather! The huge snowstorm over the weekend was exciting. The kids never had so much fun playing in the snow. The bitter temperatures of winter are gone, along with the strong cold winds. Last night I went for a run/walk (all by myself) and it was wonderful! The streets were bare, so I could actually run. There was no wind. It was just starting to get dark, but it was still a little light out. The snow was falling in thick snowflakes. Just beautiful. I'll have to go again tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Take advantage of the weather we get. There's nothing we can do to change it. It's a great time to get your spring cleaning inside your house, before the weather changes and you want to spend all your time outside.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-378203261151357114?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/378203261151357114/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=378203261151357114' title='24 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/378203261151357114'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/378203261151357114'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/03/enjoy-days-we-get.html' title='Enjoy the Days We Get'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R9aJAj1hh6I/AAAAAAAAAPU/gaH4kgIiDQc/s72-c/2ns0v4o.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>24</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-6264517779321630373</id><published>2008-03-09T22:48:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:20.784-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R9SlDT1hh4I/AAAAAAAAAPE/ETt9AYz0Nw8/s1600-h/blog+pics+010.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175943348038502274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R9SlDT1hh4I/AAAAAAAAAPE/ETt9AYz0Nw8/s320/blog+pics+010.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We really got dumped on with snow this weekend. This is what it looked like today after the streets finally got cleared. Can you see my mailbox peeking out? They said it was coming, but I don't think we really believed how much. Saturday morning we woke up to about 1/2 - 2 feet of the stuff. This would have been the kids first day off for a snow day in about 10 years, if it didn't happen on a weekend! We're use to a lot of snow because we live right off the lake and get big lake effect storms. The plows are always ready. My daughter couldn't even go to her friends birthday party who lived about 2 minutes away! My son slept over his friends house the night before. I told him he had to walk home because we couldn't even get out of the driveway, let alone down the street. His friend's house was only 3 blocks away, but my son had no jacket, hat, gloves, or even boots! His friend's dad actually dropped them both off in their 4-wheel drive car, so it worked out fine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The kids had the best weekend anyway. A bunch of the neighbors came over and they played outside all day. Then most of them slept over one of their houses, and played again all day today. Though they're all ready for spring, a huge snowstorm like this was so exciting for them. I must admit, I enjoyed it too!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Cathy at &lt;a href="http://bit-of-blarney.blogspot.com/"&gt;A Bit of the Blarney&lt;/a&gt; gave me this great friend award:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R9SmDj1hh5I/AAAAAAAAAPM/HyEAljamZns/s1600-h/greatblogfriendaward.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5175944451845097362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R9SmDj1hh5I/AAAAAAAAAPM/HyEAljamZns/s320/greatblogfriendaward.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Thank you Cathy! I will send it on to &lt;a href="http://flynnards.blogspot.com/"&gt;Leslie&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was also tagged for a meme by Lizzy at &lt;a href="http://lifeaccordingtolizzy.blogspot.com/"&gt;Life According to Lizzy&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Here are the rules:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;1. Pick up the nearest book (of at least 123 pages).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;2. Open the book to page 123.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;3. Find the fifth sentence.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;4. Post the next three sentences.&lt;/p&gt;5. Tag five people. &lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;OK. This is one of the nearest books: M.....  on the Orient Express. I'm going to start reading more Agatha Christie books. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;" 'Shall we now see the Italian?' Poirot did not reply for the moment. He was studying a grease spot on a Hungarian diplomatic passport. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Does it make you want to read it? I don't know who hasn't done this one yet, so if you haven't, you're tagged.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-6264517779321630373?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/6264517779321630373/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=6264517779321630373' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/6264517779321630373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/6264517779321630373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/03/we-really-got-dumped-on-with-snow-this.html' title=''/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R9SlDT1hh4I/AAAAAAAAAPE/ETt9AYz0Nw8/s72-c/blog+pics+010.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-6357148398018076178</id><published>2008-03-07T13:59:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-07T14:38:45.307-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Did you see this study about &lt;a href="http://physorg.com/news4333.html"&gt;&lt;em&gt;homework&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt; that was done by Penn State University? It states that "Too Much Homework Can Be Counterproductive". I never had homework until I was in 4Th grade (and by the way even that was too much). Parents of young kids know all about the crazy hours when their kids come home from school, they have homework to do, the phone is ringing, you're trying to cook dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think what bothers me the most is the time it takes away from other things. When my 1st grader gets homework, I have to tell him that he can't play with his friend after school until it's done. I usually end up telling my 4-year old to be quiet and go play in the other room. I feel tension starting to rise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to just be able to have conversations with my kids when they come home. I want to hear about their day. I want to have time to teach them things that I feel are important to my family. I also want them to have free time to play and get some exercise. I've heard that homeschoolers spend about 3 hours a day on schoolwork, and get way more done that in a traditional classroom. So why should my kids have to come home from a long day at school, and do even more work? Sometimes it's obviously just plain busy work. There's just so much wasted time at school, like when my son had to sit in the office during recess writing his name 10 times because he forgot to write his name on his paper.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feel free to pass this article around.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-6357148398018076178?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/6357148398018076178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=6357148398018076178' title='22 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/6357148398018076178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/6357148398018076178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/03/did-you-see-this-study-about-homework.html' title=''/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>22</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-3349805382790421131</id><published>2008-03-06T09:58:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-03-06T22:37:35.212-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Homeschooling?</title><content type='html'>I wasn't going to post today, because I had such a bad day yesterday. Then I decided to just post about my troubles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had it out with my 1st grader's teacher yesterday. Well, not literally, but it wasn't a very pleasant conversation. I had emailed her once before asking if she could get some extra help to my son for his spelling words. He's struggling learning the new words, and we're spending entirely too much time studying for his tests. I feel like he's just not learning them well enough in school. She responded by telling ME how to study more, and that she could send the words home with him over the weekend so he could start during the weekend. My son already hates school. He spends too much time doing homework already. He REALLY doesn't want to do homework every weekend. He IS only in first grade! My older kids don't even get that much homework, and when they do, it doesn't involve all my time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday night, my husband came home from work and spent the entire evening "helping" my son make his science project, a camel made out of recyclable materials. There is NO WAY for him to do it by himself. He wouldn't know what or where to get the materials. He could not use hot glue by himself. When my son went to bed that night, I looked in his book bag and saw his other homework that was supposed to be done: a math worksheet (that I needed to read the instructions to), TWO books that he needed to read to me and have me sign, and his lovely spelling words that needed to be studied (his test was even a day early this week because there's no school on Friday).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I emailed my son's teacher yesterday morning and informed her that his homework is taking much longer than the 10 minutes allotted for first graders, more like 1/2 hour - 45 minutes, and that's time that I have to be right there to help him with. She called me. She said she didn't have any time to help my son except during his recess. She told me that was my son's choice to do his project on the last day, and that she's not going to do anything differently with the homework. I told her that was NOT my son's choice. What 1&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;rst&lt;/span&gt; grader could do the project without their parent? My husband is very busy and he wanted to do it then with my son. I was surprised she would send home so much homework the night before the science project was due. She reprimanded ME by saying that it was OUR decision then to wait to do it. Then she said she didn't want to talk anymore because she didn't like where this conversation was going. The conversation ended by her telling me that I could just read the books to my son and to write a note if his homework takes too long to do. (That's basically what I did!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, my son came home from school and said:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Guess what mom? I have someone to help me with my spelling words in school! They're helping me after recess!" Wow! Maybe I DID help him, after all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And guess what mom? I know how to spell crayon! C-O-L-O-R!" Close enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then my daughter called me at the end of the school day:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mom, I'm not staying after school today for ASL (Academic Sports League). I'm not in the mood. I just got detention."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"For what?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"For wearing jeans with a hole in them."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bad, bad girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well she DID bring home her project from the music of the 30's and 40's. She got a 100%. The teacher commented that she loved the CD cover. (Good job dad!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now today, I have to pick her up from school at 3:20, and my 1&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;rst&lt;/span&gt; grader gets out of school at 3:25 and is about 15 minutes away from my daughter's school. I always pick him up because there's always a problem with him walking home from school. Either someone chases him home trying to hit him, or the older kids complain he's walking in the street, or someone is throwing snowballs at him. So today my 1&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;rst&lt;/span&gt; grader has to walk home by himself, and I may not even be home by the time he gets home. I told him to wait on the front porch if I'm not there. Lovely, huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this is why my mom thinks I'm getting closer to homeschooling. I'd kind of like to, but my daughter, especially, would miss her friends.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-3349805382790421131?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/3349805382790421131/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=3349805382790421131' title='26 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/3349805382790421131'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/3349805382790421131'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/03/homeschooling.html' title='Homeschooling?'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>26</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-8956240310746876927</id><published>2008-03-04T09:52:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:20.992-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R81nF4XtvEI/AAAAAAAAAO8/6wqXUpqlnOk/s1600-h/2nw1zwo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173904897647426626" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R81nF4XtvEI/AAAAAAAAAO8/6wqXUpqlnOk/s320/2nw1zwo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;What a beautiful day it was yesterday. We started the day with a visit to my sister's house, and ended with a million kids at my house. I use to not really believe it when people would tell me that all the kids play at their house, and they want it that way. Then they know what their kids are doing. Now I feel that way, not because I don't trust the kids, but because I just like my kids around. I also like to know their friends better. It gives my youngest something to do, too. While I was cooking dinner, all the kids and a ton of their friends were outside. I actually could talk to my husband! We were only interrupted about 10 times, instead of 100 times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For dinner I made delicious stuffed shells with homemade sauce, garlic bread, and a salad. My husband thought it was too fattening. My boys didn't want it, so they made themselves a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. My youngest had a bite, and decided she wanted peanut butter and jelly, too. My husband did eat it, buy my daughter was the only one of my kids to eat it. She made up for the rest of them by eating seconds because it was "SO GOOD!". Aren't they crazy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The nice weather must have put me in a good mood, because I ran out yesterday to get the next season of Gilmore Girls (season 3) to watch with my daughter. We're so hooked. I feel lucky to have someone to want to watch it with me as much as I do. Watch the prices when you buy TV seasons on DVD. Boy do they vary! I got it for $20 at Best Buy and can probably sell it on EBay used for about the same price. Across the street at Circuit City, they sell it for $60! Sometimes it goes on sale for $15 at Target.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My husband has been researching new computers. My sister Irene is getting a new Dell, so we decided to research what we could get. We were surprised how inexpensive a refurbished Dell is. Just about the same time, our computer seems to be getting worse by the minute. I think it's about to go. For a while now it has been freezing up. We took our computer in to be fixed a few months ago, and the guy told us our motherboard had melted (?) pieces in it and he didn't know how much longer it would last. Now our computer won't even turn on right. Yesterday it took FIVE tries! Hopefully we can get our new one going before this one is completely gone. If I suddenly vanish from bloggyland, you'll know why. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-8956240310746876927?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/8956240310746876927/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=8956240310746876927' title='24 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/8956240310746876927'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/8956240310746876927'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/03/what-beautiful-day-it-was-yesterday.html' title=''/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R81nF4XtvEI/AAAAAAAAAO8/6wqXUpqlnOk/s72-c/2nw1zwo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>24</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-5568473065850225357</id><published>2008-03-02T21:04:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:21.223-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Family Traditions</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R8teDmEGvjI/AAAAAAAAAO0/8aV46ntVhts/s1600-h/87c26ux.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5173332012815531570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R8teDmEGvjI/AAAAAAAAAO0/8aV46ntVhts/s320/87c26ux.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Most everyone has some kind of family traditions. One of our's is dinner at Baba's (my mom's). We go there almost every Sunday. Tonight was pork chops, mashed potatoes, salad, veggies, and yes, wings on the side made especially by request by my son. For dessert was my other son's favorite, "The Most Dicious (delicious) Cake", chocolate cake with chocolate sour cream frosting. Usually it's the six of us, my cousin, my aunt, and my parents. Sometimes my sister and her five will be in town, too. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, though, my oldest two weren't there. They were snowboarding probably for the last time this season. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We brought home the leftovers and they SCARFED it ALL UP! After snowboarding all day with nothing to eat, they were starving. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These Sunday dinner's have become pretty regular over the past couple of years. My cousin and aunt really look forward to it. I've gotten to know my cousin a lot better because of them. I'm pretty lucky that my husband likes going there as much as I do. Well, who wouldn't? Lots of good food and cold beer in the fridge waiting for him? I guess this is what my mom meant when she said she didn't want me moving out of town when I grew up. These dinners wouldn't exist if I had. She wanted a family that would always be around, not just for the holidays. Now I'm pushing this idea on my own kids. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://ladolcevitathesweetlifewiththreesons.blogspot.com/"&gt;Bia&lt;/a&gt; said she also has the Sunday dinners at her mom's. I thought about her tonight. My daughter told me we're just like Gilmore Girls who eat dinner at the grandmother's house every Friday night. I hope this tradition will continue, at least at my house someday, with my own kids and grandkids. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The worst part, I ALWAYS overeat! I never can step on the scale the next day. I'm too afraid! Just a small thing to put up with, compared to what we all get out of it. So what are some of your family's traditions?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, and about my son's spelling test on Friday, would you believe he actually got 7/8 correct?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-5568473065850225357?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/5568473065850225357/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=5568473065850225357' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/5568473065850225357'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/5568473065850225357'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/03/family-traditions.html' title='Family Traditions'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R8teDmEGvjI/AAAAAAAAAO0/8aV46ntVhts/s72-c/87c26ux.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-726793897881085292</id><published>2008-02-29T09:26:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:21.378-05:00</updated><title type='text'>How Do You Spell...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R8gWvWEGviI/AAAAAAAAAOs/QvZKPq4WoIA/s1600-h/2lncp5s.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172409174667476514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R8gWvWEGviI/AAAAAAAAAOs/QvZKPq4WoIA/s320/2lncp5s.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Now this picture doesn't make me feel so bad. Last night I was helping my son go over his spelling words. Today is his test. I would give him the words to spell. He wrote them down. Then we would go over the ones he missed. There were only 8 words, yet he managed to missed on average 4 every time! After about 1/2 hour I said, "Go upstairs and have your dad give them to you." Survivor was on, you know.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;After about 1 minute he came back downstairs, "I got them all right mom!". Hmm... We'll see about that when the test comes back home. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;This morning on the way to school, I was giving my son his spelling words again. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;"How do you spell still?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;"S-T-I-L-L"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Good! How do you spell spot?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;"S-T-O-P"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;"No." Then he finally figured it out.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;"How do you spell down?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;"D-O-W-O"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Huff, "No."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;"Oh! D-O-W."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;"How do you spell which?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;"W-H-O-T"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;?????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Then I quickly reminded him how to spell them. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;"So, how'd I do mom?" &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Ugh! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-726793897881085292?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/726793897881085292/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=726793897881085292' title='24 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/726793897881085292'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/726793897881085292'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/02/how-do-you-spell.html' title='How Do You Spell...'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R8gWvWEGviI/AAAAAAAAAOs/QvZKPq4WoIA/s72-c/2lncp5s.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>24</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-5953194129356859891</id><published>2008-02-28T09:18:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:21.818-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Job for an 11-Year old</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R8bDdhTZiYI/AAAAAAAAAOU/MkhgzbkMi_4/s1600-h/54meqmb.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172036134004951426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R8bDdhTZiYI/AAAAAAAAAOU/MkhgzbkMi_4/s320/54meqmb.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My 11-year old came up to me the other day and said, "Mom, I just realized! I have a job!" "Yes you do!", I said. This summer my son signed up to be an umpire for the Little League baseball games. All you have to do it sign up, go to a meeting about learning the rules, and ump one level younger than you are. It only pays $9.00/game, but hey, that's more than I give him for his allowance in one week!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I think it's a great experience for him, but I'm also kind of skeptical. Some of those parents are ruthless to the umps. Last summer I didn't think I was going to be able to take it anymore. OK, this one kid actually was a pretty bad ump, BUT he WAS just a kid who was learning, AND this WAS just Little League, not the Major League. Just like you can't get upset when one of the kids doesn't play well because they are just learning, the umps have to start somewhere too. I had to hold myself back when I heard some parents booing the ump and SCREAMING, "New ump!". I debated saying something to these parents, but then I thought they might beat ME up! I LOVED how our coach handled the situation with the bad calls. He just went up to the ump and said, "Did you see that play? Because if you didn't, you can just say that you don't know because you couldn't see. I'm just letting you know." Our coach was frusterated, too, but he treated that ump very fairly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;My son doesn't worry about being yelled at. My husbands only concern is that he will get called ALL the time to ump. I don't think that's anything to worry about. He can always just say no. One mother I talked to at a game was there watching her son ump. She told me she can barely watch the games he umps because she doesn't want to see anyone yelling at her son. I guess it's bound to happen sometime, but hopefully not too often that it makes him want to quit. Did anyone else's son ever ump? Was it a good or bad experience for them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R8bIFRTZiZI/AAAAAAAAAOc/ZXzoyaLOvTE/s1600-h/coolcat.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5172041214951262610" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R8bIFRTZiZI/AAAAAAAAAOc/ZXzoyaLOvTE/s320/coolcat.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Yesterday I recieved an award from Marie at &lt;a href="http://mariesthoughtsonlife.blogspot.com/"&gt;Marie's Random Thoughts on Love and Life&lt;/a&gt;. Thank you Marie! I just LOVE reading her blog. Stop by it sometime. Marie was in a car accident with her husband on New Years Eve. She was rushed to the emergency room where the doctor told her... She's pregnant! Both she and the baby were perfectly fine. This past weekend she just met her sister's daughter (her niece), that she didn't even know that she had! It's an amazing story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I pass this award onto Girlymom at &lt;a href="http://momof4girls.blogspot.com/"&gt;The Red Door&lt;/a&gt; and Kitty at &lt;a href="http://kittywrinkle.blogspot.com/"&gt;Kitty's Bloggy Bits&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-5953194129356859891?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/5953194129356859891/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=5953194129356859891' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/5953194129356859891'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/5953194129356859891'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/02/job-for-11-year-old.html' title='Job for an 11-Year old'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R8bDdhTZiYI/AAAAAAAAAOU/MkhgzbkMi_4/s72-c/54meqmb.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-173403126818954777</id><published>2008-02-27T09:24:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:22.031-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Going Green</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R8V-ShTZiXI/AAAAAAAAAOM/RXuxrShgIHU/s1600-h/4htmi4x.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171678603747363186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R8V-ShTZiXI/AAAAAAAAAOM/RXuxrShgIHU/s400/4htmi4x.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our new middle school is almost complete. It's a state-of-the-art "green school". It only cost the taxpayers $28 million! Well, we were in desperate need of repairs. The school, unfortunately, had not been kept up over the years, and now we finally have our new school. They will be utilizing as much natural outside light as possible. It has a clean air system. The roof collects the rainwater for flushing the toilets. The rain gauge for this can be seen when you walk in the lobby. It's a complete learning building. The ceiling is exposed, so you can see all the pipes and where everything is. It uses geothermal heating. Did you know what geothermal heating was when you were in middle school?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The school also recycled as much of the old materials as they could. The gym's beautiful wood floor was refinished. Many of the wooden doors were refinished and used again. The cafeteria now has more options for buying food. Instead of having two long lunch lines where your only choice was the full lunch menu, now there are different lunch counters where you can get exactly what you want, with healthier lunch options. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My husband and I actually went to this school when we were young. I didn't know him back then, though, because he was a year behind me. One of the worst parts was lunch. Many, many times the lunch lines were so long that the bell would ring to go to my next class, and I would just be walking back to the table with my lunch. All I could do was set my lunch on the table, shove a couple bites of food in my mouth, and dump the rest in the garbage (a good reason right there to home school).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were many cons of this reconstruction. The cost - $28 million! Maybe it was needed. It's supposed to save the tax payers throughout the years. That just sounds like a lot of taxpayer money to pay now. The school is within walking distance to our house. It's part of the reason why we bought our house. My daughter and son could have been walking to school together this year, the last year they will be able to. My daughter got to experience the old building for sixth grade. Then for 7Th and this half of 8Th grade she was bused off to an old school in the city that starts an hour earlier. None of these kids are getting enough sleep. My son is now in 6Th grade and he is bused off to an elementary school (when he should be in the "big kid" middle school) and gets home at 4:00 (an hour later than he usually would). By the time he does his homework, it's time for dinner. He has very little free time. I also think about the exercise the kids aren't getting. A year and a half missed of walking to and home from school. My daughter's school now doesn't even have a library in it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, the new school will be a pod system. I don't think I care for this idea. They even called it a "school within a school". Each grade is divided into two groups. Each group has it's own pod of classes. The kids just switch classes within their pod. If you have a friend on the other "team", you can only see them during lunch or possibly gym class. There's no hallway to walk down. I just remember when I was little. We'd meet our friends in the hall and say hi as we went to our next class. Also, the different grades eat with their own grade. How are the sixth graders ever going to get to know the eight graders? There's no togetherness. Even to leave the school, there's a exit in every pod. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well the kids will go to this new school after the spring break. We're all very excited. My son is going to ride his bike to school! We will get a chance to see it at an open house the week before they get there. I will take some pictures of all the cool new "green" features and post them later. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-173403126818954777?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/173403126818954777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=173403126818954777' title='20 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/173403126818954777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/173403126818954777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/02/going-green.html' title='Going Green'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R8V-ShTZiXI/AAAAAAAAAOM/RXuxrShgIHU/s72-c/4htmi4x.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>20</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-3485982729346024824</id><published>2008-02-26T09:43:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:22.241-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Snow again</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R8QnCBTZiWI/AAAAAAAAAOE/U1kdZjNfyZo/s1600-h/blog+pics+007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5171301187791194466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R8QnCBTZiWI/AAAAAAAAAOE/U1kdZjNfyZo/s320/blog+pics+007.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Well, I'm glad I got out and enjoyed the past few beautiful days. This is what it looked like outside my window this morning! &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ugh&lt;/span&gt;! I'm SO ready for spring. "OK now (this is me talking to myself), it's only February. Spring doesn't come until next month. The snow is pretty. Warm weather will be here soon enough." That's what I have to keep telling myself. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Yesterday I spent a good portion of the day working on MY DAUGHTER'S project for school. Yes, the homework subject again. She's doing a presentation about The Diary of Anne Frank and her project is the music of the 1930's and 1940's. She wanted to buy songs online to make a CD. Well, I'm not buying any songs, so I went to the library and got the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Cd's&lt;/span&gt; to copy songs from. I decided it would only save me time by going while she was in school, so I only had to take my 4-year old, instead of ALL the kids. Even though SHE was doing the project, it was constant questions about who she should pick, does this look good, did she make any mistakes. I like the projects that are done in school. Then the kids really do it by themselves. What about the kids who don't have parents to help them at home? My daughter told me, "It's too bad everyone doesn't have a mom to go to the library for them and get &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Cd's&lt;/span&gt;." My daughter has a friend who not only has no money, her mom has no car to take her to the library. She has no computer at home. She even has a mom who once made her stay home from school to clean the house. Kids like these are at a real disadvantage when it comes to doing projects at home.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;On the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;bright side&lt;/span&gt;, my daughter is really learning a lot from this activity. She's heard a couple of the songs that were popular back then, but she's never heard of any of the artists. She never heard of Doris Day or Bing Crosby! She's printing out pictures of the singers, so she can put a face to these names, too. Like most projects, getting started is the hardest part. Now she's so interested in this and is trying very hard to get all of the 100 points it's worth. So my philosophy on getting through this with her: &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;1. &lt;strong&gt;Help her&lt;/strong&gt;. She needs some guidance in how to get started and some tips along the way. I don't want her to just rush through it because she's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;frustrated&lt;/span&gt; and doesn't know exactly what to do. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;2. &lt;strong&gt;Show an interest in what she's doing&lt;/strong&gt;. My daughter's a big talker and likes to know I'm interested. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;3. &lt;strong&gt;Get her motivated&lt;/strong&gt;. Last night we talked about how we think the easiest way to help your grade is to get an A on a project. The teachers usually give a detailed list of what they want in a project. Follow every step exactly, and maybe even add a little extra to it. This project is worth 100 points. Tests are usually 30-50 points, and it's easy to think you know all the material, then get confused when you get the test. What about pop &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;quizzes&lt;/span&gt;. Those are easy to mess up too.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I always say, it's more work for me when the kids are in school. They always need something for school. They need help with homework. They need me to pick them up from after-school activities. Everything is "Hurry up!". OK, now I'm looking forward to summer vacation!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-3485982729346024824?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/3485982729346024824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=3485982729346024824' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/3485982729346024824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/3485982729346024824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/02/snow-again.html' title='Snow again'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R8QnCBTZiWI/AAAAAAAAAOE/U1kdZjNfyZo/s72-c/blog+pics+007.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-4500731308961122535</id><published>2008-02-23T14:37:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:22.410-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It's a Beautiful Day in My Neighborhood</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R8B7PRTZiVI/AAAAAAAAAN8/7P4ZgKhmUQE/s1600-h/87062wo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5170267874494351698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R8B7PRTZiVI/AAAAAAAAAN8/7P4ZgKhmUQE/s320/87062wo.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Oh, I feel so much better today. What a beautiful day out! It's sunny and 33'. Yes, that's a beautiful day for us Northerners during the month of February. I'll never forget a few years ago, waiting for my neighbor to pick up the kids for school. It was February, sunny, and I sat on my front steps with my coffee in my hands. My neighbor pulled up in the driveway, rolled down her window, and said, "Are you enjoying this beautiful day?". I laughed. "Yes I am, but it's pathetic because it's only 30' out!". For those of you who live down south, or in Texas Kellan, this is a nice day for us!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I went for a jog/walk for 45 minutes, Amy. The sun was shining on my face. The birds were actually chirping! I was so happy I couldn't find the MP3 player. It was very quiet, too. No cars around. Going for a walk in the morning really keeps me motivated to eat better during the day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;One basketball game down. One more to go. Then my husband and I are off for dinner at The Texas Roadhouse. It's our favorite restaurant. I always get the ribeye and ribs combo with a side of chili and rice. They have the best homemade rolls with melted butter and cinnamon on top. We always ask for extras and bring home lots of leftovers for the kids. My youngest said to me, "You never take me!". "Uh, yeah, and your point is...?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;After dinner we're going to take a drive through a pretty neighborhood that I like and get some ideas for landscaping our front yard. I want to plant a lot of trees this summer, and want to get some ideas for where to put them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;About the homework problems from yesterday, everything worked out fine. My son didn't even have his spelling test because the teacher was out sick. My daughter didn't have to give her teacher my note about not finishing her homework because she didn't check everyone's homework. She also didn't need to have her language arts reading done because they ended up doing something else in class yesterday. She still has her test on Monday, but she feels a ton better about it now. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;After going for that nice walk this morning, I thought, "What was I so upset over? " I'll try to remember this during our next crisis.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-4500731308961122535?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/4500731308961122535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=4500731308961122535' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/4500731308961122535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/4500731308961122535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/02/its-beautiful-day-in-my-neighborhood.html' title='It&apos;s a Beautiful Day in My Neighborhood'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R8B7PRTZiVI/AAAAAAAAAN8/7P4ZgKhmUQE/s72-c/87062wo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-8350716191978898443</id><published>2008-02-22T12:58:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:22.631-05:00</updated><title type='text'>More About Homework</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R78NohTZiUI/AAAAAAAAAN0/YmmobMywyk0/s1600-h/6ewv1ci.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169865887030282562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R78NohTZiUI/AAAAAAAAAN0/YmmobMywyk0/s320/6ewv1ci.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Usually homework isn't too bad for our family anymore. I don't know if the schools are starting to catch on about the current findings about homework (that they don't actually help the kids), or if we've just been lucky, but yesterday was a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;It started with my 7-year old. He's been doing fine up until this week with his spelling words. He just studies them a little, and gets them all right on his test every Friday. This weeks words were obviously much harder. They went from "bad, sad, mad" to "bright, blaze, truck". He could not get them. He acted like he hadn't seen these words all week. He had a hard time telling the difference between bl and br words. We spent about two hours on his homework! He was crying. Yes, we took breaks. What do I do? Let him fail his test? He also had a short book to read. It took him 1/2 hour because he got stuck on every other word. I decided to email his teacher and tell her about this. I told her that he will need some extra help in school each week with his spelling words because he's struggling with them. I don't mind going over the words with him a little, but I simply don't have the time to spend hours on it! My youngest one was upset because she wanted some attention. I haven't heard back from her yet. I'm expecting her to tell me that if he can't keep up with the class, then he'll need to be placed in a remedial class. I want to be a helper, not his teacher. Shouldn't the teacher recognize that a student needs a little help, and help him? This is not helping with his "hating school" problem.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Next, daughter came home from ski club in tears because she's so behind in school because she missed the day before for being sick. Can't an 8Th grader be allowed to stay home when she's not feeling well? She tried to do her reading on the ski bus, but it was too dark, not to mention LOUD. She still wasn't feeling well last night, but sat down at 9:30 to do her work. I had to help her look up ALL her answers for math. I had to help her finish her social studies. She has a test on Monday, and doesn't understand what they're doing. She has a major Language Arts project due next week. She was totally stressed out. I ended up writing her social studies teacher a note telling her that she couldn't find the rest of the answers on her crossword puzzle and needed some extra help understanding the material (we're hoping she'll give her an extra day for the test). My daughter is going to tell her language arts teacher that she didn't have time to do the reading and that I will write her a note about that if she needs one. She's also has to talk to her math teacher too. This much stress in the 8Th grade? At 14, she has to spend the entire weekend doing homework? Now don't get the wrong impression. My daughter is very good about getting her work done. She gets good grades. That's why she's so upset about it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'm hoping for a good weekend. Tonight we were going to go out for dinner, but my babysitter couldn't watch the kids, so we'll go out tomorrow (Texas Roadhouse!). So, tonight we'll take the little ones to bingo night at the school. They're very excited at least. Tomorrow is the last two basketball games of the season. Sunday is already sign ups for baseball! I hate to think about being involved in more sports again, but the boys really love it, and I actually enjoy watching. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'm also thinking about the money everyone owes us! I think my daughter lost the $10 I lent her. My son lost his library book at school. My daughter lent money to two boys. One keeps saying he'll pay her back, and the other doesn't want to because he said they're poor since his mom just left his step dad. OK, I feel bad for him, but enough is enough! This boy has an expensive cell phone and is in the expensive ski club, and that was MY $2 he borrowed from my daughter. I think I do more than my fair share by driving the kids in the neighborhood everywhere and feeding them all. I just think when you borrow money from someone, you should pay them back, and not try to get out of it because they think we can afford it.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; I think a nice warm spring day would brighten my mood. Hope we get one soon!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-8350716191978898443?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/8350716191978898443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=8350716191978898443' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/8350716191978898443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/8350716191978898443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/02/more-about-homework.html' title='More About Homework'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R78NohTZiUI/AAAAAAAAAN0/YmmobMywyk0/s72-c/6ewv1ci.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-2474143837799768685</id><published>2008-02-20T22:11:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:23.207-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Thought I Had Escaped It</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R7zxCxTZiTI/AAAAAAAAANs/OoQvDnt9lSo/s1600-h/4r24xw6.png"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169271502211221810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R7zxCxTZiTI/AAAAAAAAANs/OoQvDnt9lSo/s320/4r24xw6.png" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just got it today. My daughter got it when she was in the sixth grade. My 11-year old luckily escaped it this year in sixth grade. I thought I was going to be one of the lucky ones. No such luck. Today my 7-year old brought home "The Note" stating the requirements for my, I mean, HIS science fair project. I am NO scientist. I don't WANT to be. Yet somehow my son's science fair project will become MY science fair project.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had my first experience with the science fair when my daughter was in 6th grade. Everyone was required to do it. Of course my daughter couldn't come up with an idea. I lied awake at night trying to think of something. Finally I said, "Why don't we do something practical, like testing different batteries to see which one works the longest? I know alkaline lasts longer than heavy duty. We could test different brands!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My daughter took this idea and one other (of my) ideas to her teacher the next day to get one OK'd. The teacher didn't like either (of my) ideas. She came home from school and I asked her what her friend was doing. She painted each one of her fingernails with a different kind of nail polish to see which one stayed on the longest. (Basically the same idea as mine.) The teacher liked her idea. "OK, how about an something impractical, like see which curl mousse curls your hair the best?" Well, the teacher liked this idea. I didn't get it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This year my son is in sixth grade. Guess what? They no longer are required to participate in the science fair! They decided that the kids weren't getting as much out of it as they had hoped. Really? I wonder why? It's pretty obvious how much "help" all the parents put into it (and spent on!).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My 7-year old has to make an animal that lives in the desert out of recyclables. We're even supposed to attend the science fair on a Saturday morning. What do the desert and recyclables have in common? I'm all about recycling. RECYCLING! Not collecting garbage that can be sent to the recycling center to be made into new products and taping, gluing, and painting it to just end up throwing in the land fill. I just feel like it's so much work compare to what he'll be getting out of it. I'm not an artist or a very crafty or creative person. Why not just find a picture of a desert animal, give the kids a large piece of paper, and paint an animal?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's funny. I've been hearing a lot of you talking lately about helping your kids do their science fair project, some complaining (you know who you are), and I just laughed and thought, "I'm SO glad I don't have to do THAT anymore!". Now I'm not laughing anymore. I know, there probably are some of you who actually enjoy it. I'm just not one of them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-2474143837799768685?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/2474143837799768685/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=2474143837799768685' title='23 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/2474143837799768685'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/2474143837799768685'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-thought-i-had-escaped-it.html' title='I Thought I Had Escaped It'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R7zxCxTZiTI/AAAAAAAAANs/OoQvDnt9lSo/s72-c/4r24xw6.png' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>23</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-5085694900224295184</id><published>2008-02-19T08:17:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:23.392-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='basketball'/><title type='text'>Good Coaches, MEAN coaches</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R7rz-xTZiSI/AAAAAAAAANk/it_Bg2DqUR0/s1600-h/86inoee.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5168711782073207074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R7rz-xTZiSI/AAAAAAAAANk/it_Bg2DqUR0/s320/86inoee.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I ran into one of my daughter's old basketball coaches a couple days ago. He coached her for 5 years in one of the leagues she played for. This was the last year that basketball was available to the girls and asked why she wasn't playing. I told him she just didn't enjoy it enough. She liked it, but didn't have the passion.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We really liked this coach. He was one of the good ones. He'd fool you by his looks, though. He's a big guy, a police officer, a high school football coach, doesn't smile very much, and has a mean look about him. He NEVER yelled at the girls. He went out of his way to find places to practice. He even has offered to take my daughter to the practices if we couldn't take her. I took him up on that a few times. His daughter played on the team and he told me that you just can't treat the girls like the boys on his football team. The only time I really saw him upset was when the coach or players from another team were being mean. Anyone should feel lucky to have a coach like this.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;One team my daughter played basketball for had a mean coach. Mean was even an understatement. He &lt;em&gt;screamed&lt;/em&gt; at the girls during the game. He would sub a girl out during the game, scream in her face about whatever she was doing wrong, then send them back out to play. One girl in particular was yelled at so much, that she use to go back out on the court and couldn't even think straight. When the games were over, his shirt would be drenched with sweat, and he wasn't even playing! &lt;em&gt;Every &lt;/em&gt;parent didn't care for him. I tried to reassure my daughter that when he yelled at her, everyone felt bad for her. I also told her to use this as a learning experience. There are people like this in the world, unfortunately, and you just have to do the best to live through it. Don't take it personally. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My husband coaches the younger kids in baseball. He treated each kid with respect. He wanted the kids to have fun, and learn, too. He's had experiences with mean coaches. At the first Tball game, my husband asked the other coach if they wanted to pitch to the kids because his team was ready for it. They agreed, but the coach came up to him at the end of the game and said, in front of everyone, that he "strong-armed" him into pitching, and that he thought they were playing Tball (!). My husbands mouth fell open. He really tries hard to get along with everyone and was shocked at how this coach was talking to him. We even called the Tball commissioner after the game to see if pitching was OK. He reassured us that we were doing it perfectly right. You can practice hitting off the tees during the practices, and work your way into pitching to them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now, one more story, my son, luckily has had only great coaches. During basketball sign ups we knew of one coach who many people have said that's the ONLY team they DON'T want their son to be on. "Really?", I said. I knew this guy a little. He's very involved in boys sports. I've talked to him about how he thinks kids should be able to play more than one sport in high school if they want, and I agreed with him. Come to think of it, he DID tell me that the girls basketball teams aren't serious at all, only the boys are. And you're saying this to someone who is signing up both a girl and a boy? Well I saw him in action a couple weeks ago. My son's team played his team. My son had to guard his son. I noticed him pushing my son throughout the whole game. After the game my son said, "Did you hear him swearing at me?". "No, I didn't. Did his dad hear him?" "He had to have! Everyone heard him!" Weird, huh. I guess he's just the kind of dad who wants his son to be a big tough bully. Oh, and after the game, that boy came up to my son and told him to meet him out in the parking lot (as if to fight him). My son just told him, "Yah, OK."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So when I ran into this old basketball coach, he said he saw my son at one of the dances and asked if he plays football. My son is a big kid. He's even starting to lift weights. I told him no, but he wants to. He told me he's going to be the new football coach for the 7th and 8th grade team and he'll call us. I told him he's not much of a runner since he had a super bad case of pneumonia when he was 5. He told me that he could find a place for him. I thought that was pretty nice.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So why do some coaches feel the need to be so mean? Maybe they're not trying to be mean. Maybe that's just the way they are. They can't control their tempers. Feel lucky if your kids have one of those nice coaches.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-5085694900224295184?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/5085694900224295184/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=5085694900224295184' title='22 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/5085694900224295184'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/5085694900224295184'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/02/good-coaches-mean-coaches.html' title='Good Coaches, MEAN coaches'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R7rz-xTZiSI/AAAAAAAAANk/it_Bg2DqUR0/s72-c/86inoee.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>22</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-4771895625359211310</id><published>2008-02-15T11:03:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:23.562-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I haven't seen this around yet.:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R7W39hTZiQI/AAAAAAAAANU/Kb5DE91Bw9E/s1600-h/roar_award.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167238415017150722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R7W39hTZiQI/AAAAAAAAANU/Kb5DE91Bw9E/s320/roar_award.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And Ally at&lt;a href="http://laughadaisy.blogspot.com/"&gt; Laughadaisy&lt;/a&gt; gave it to me! Thanks for thinking of me Ally!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;The rules for being A Roar For Powerful Words recipient are that I share 3 writing tips and pass the award on to 3 more bloggers "worthy of recognition and esteem."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;strong&gt;Be yourself&lt;/strong&gt;. Write how you normally talk to people. Don't feel the need to sound like you're something that you're not.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. &lt;strong&gt;Think about what has been on your mind that day, and write about that&lt;/strong&gt;. (If you can write about that, of course.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;strong&gt;Learn from others&lt;/strong&gt;. Read everything, and see how others write, from books to newspapers to blogs (but not only blogs!).&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never really thought of myself as a writer before I started my blog. It was pretty difficult at first. I've found that it's taken a lot of practice. I'm still not the best writer, but I think of my ideas much easier now, and can write much faster.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will pass this award on to my sister Irene at &lt;a href="http://ourpieceoftheworld.blogspot.com/"&gt;Our Little Piece of the the World&lt;/a&gt;, Kidzmama at &lt;a href="http://notaspareminute.blogspot.com/"&gt;Not a Spare Minute&lt;/a&gt;, and Becky at &lt;a href="http://frumpmama.blogspot.com/"&gt;Stuck in Frump, Striving for Fab&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-4771895625359211310?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/4771895625359211310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=4771895625359211310' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/4771895625359211310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/4771895625359211310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-havent-seen-this-around-yet.html' title=''/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R7W39hTZiQI/AAAAAAAAANU/Kb5DE91Bw9E/s72-c/roar_award.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-6512380960175997906</id><published>2008-02-14T15:51:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:23.714-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Valentine's Day!</title><content type='html'>Actually, it's not the best Valentine's Day for me. Hubby's still out of town, and won't be home until tomorrow night. Valentine's Day is special for us because it's the anniversary of our first date! Pretty romantic, huh? When he picked me up for the date, he brought me a dozen red roses. I was very happy, but felt sorry for him at the same time. I thought, "Poor guy. He wasted all his money on me when he realizes he doesn't want to go out with me again." Well that didn't happen. Four kids later...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R7S4bhTZiPI/AAAAAAAAANM/c4YaIWFY-j0/s1600-h/blog+pics+006.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166957455436515570" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R7S4bhTZiPI/AAAAAAAAANM/c4YaIWFY-j0/s320/blog+pics+006.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My oldest two have ski club tonight so it's just my 4 and 7-year old and me. We made these pretty cupcakes. Mmmm. They're chocolate cupcakes with homemade chocolate cream cheese frosting and sprinkles on top. The frosting is very simple. Here's the recipe:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chocolate Cream Cheese Frosting:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6 ounces cream cheese&lt;br /&gt;3 tablespoons milk&lt;br /&gt;1 teaspoon vanilla&lt;br /&gt;dash salt&lt;br /&gt;4 1/2 cups powdered sugar&lt;br /&gt;2 squares unsweetened chocolate, melted&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mix the cream cheese, milk, and chocolate on medium speed until smooth. Beat in vanilla, salt, and sugar until blended. That's all!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-6512380960175997906?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/6512380960175997906/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=6512380960175997906' title='23 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/6512380960175997906'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/6512380960175997906'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/02/happy-valentines-day.html' title='Happy Valentine&apos;s Day!'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R7S4bhTZiPI/AAAAAAAAANM/c4YaIWFY-j0/s72-c/blog+pics+006.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>23</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-787524652091550784</id><published>2008-02-12T09:25:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:23.857-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I received this email from my friend Denise the other day:</title><content type='html'>TO ALL THE KIDS WHO SURVIVED the 1930s, 40's, 50's, 60's and 70's!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First, we survived being born to mothers who smoked and/or drank while they were pregnant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They took aspirin, ate blue cheese dressing, tuna from a can, and didn't get tested for diabetes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then after that trauma, we were put to sleep on our tummies in baby cribs covered with bright colored lead-based paints.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had no childproof lids on medicine bottles, doors or cabinets and when we rode our bikes, we had no helmets. Not to mention the risks we took hitchhiking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As infants &amp;amp; children, we would ride in cars with no car seats, booster seats, seat belts or air bags.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Riding in the back of a pick up on a warm day was always a special treat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We drank water from the garden hose and NOT from a bottle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We ate cupcakes, white bread and real butter and drank Kool-aid made with sugar, but we weren't overweight because, WE WERE ALWAYS OUTSIDE PLAYING!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We would leave home in the morning and play all day, as long as we were back when the streetlights came on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one was able to reach us all day. And we were O.K.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We would spend hours building our go-carts out of scraps and then ride down the hill, only to find out we forgot the brakes. After running into the bushes a few times, we learned to solve the problem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We did not have Playstations, Nintendo's, X-boxes, no video games at all, no 150 channels on cable, no video movies or DVD's, no surround-sound or CD's, no cell phones, no personal computers, no Internet or chat rooms........&lt;br /&gt;WE HAD FRIENDS and we went outside and found them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We fell out of trees, got cut, broke bones and teeth and there were no lawsuits from these accidents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We ate worms and mud pies made from dirt, and the worms did not live in us forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were given BB guns for our 10th birthdays, made up games with sticks and tennis balls and, although we were told it would happen, we did not put out very many eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We rode bikes or walked to a friend's house and knocked on the door or rang the bell, or just walked in and talked to them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little League had tryouts and not everyone made the team. Those who didn't had to learn to deal with disappointment. Imagine that!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The idea of a parent bailing us out if we broke the law was unheard of. They actually sided with the law!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These generations have produced some of the best risk-takers, problem solvers and inventors ever!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The past 50 years have been an explosion of innovation and new ideas. We had freedom, failure, success and responsibility, and we learned HOW TO DEAL WITH IT ALL!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If YOU are one of them, CONGRATULATIONS!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You might want to share this with others who have had the luck to grow up as kids, before the lawyers and the government regulated so much of our lives for our own good.&lt;br /&gt;While you are at it, forward it to your kids so they will know how brave (and lucky) their parents were.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kind of makes you want to run through the house with scissors, doesn't it?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The quote of the month is by Jay Leno:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"With hurricanes, tornados, fires out of control, mud slides, flooding, severe thunderstorms tearing up the country from one end to another, and with the threat of bird flu and terrorist attacks, are we sure this is a good time to take God out of the Pledge of Allegiance?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do you think? I think what struck me most about it was the fact that most kids played outside all day. Mother's didn't take their kids everywhere everyday. Kids didn't play inside with their friends all day. Parents didn't intervene in every little problem. I can imagine how much easier my life would be today if I didn't have the whole neighborhood running through my house everyday, if I didn't have to drop my kids off and pick them up from somewhere everyday, and didn't have to solve every fight that breaks out. I'd have more time to get my chores done, and just relax in the evenings. I actually try to bring as much of this back as I can, but it's still not like it use to be. The one thing I didn't agree with: Little League tryouts. My boys would be crushed if they couldn't play baseball. I love that every kid can play.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, I got an award! From Girlymom at &lt;a href="http://momof4girls.blogspot.com/"&gt;The Red Door&lt;/a&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R7GwNRTZiKI/AAAAAAAAAMk/5OWYOZ_Lf5o/s1600-h/kindblogger_award.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5166103989600225442" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R7GwNRTZiKI/AAAAAAAAAMk/5OWYOZ_Lf5o/s320/kindblogger_award.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really enjoy her blog, too. She has 4 kids also, but hers are all girls and each one are two years apart. Boy is that going to be fun when they become teenagers!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I pass this award onto:&lt;a href="http://donmillsdiva.blogspot.com/"&gt; Don Mill Diva&lt;/a&gt;. She's a new blogging friend and I've really been enjoying her blog.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-787524652091550784?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/787524652091550784/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=787524652091550784' title='31 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/787524652091550784'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/787524652091550784'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-received-this-email-from-my-friend.html' title='I received this email from my friend Denise the other day:'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R7GwNRTZiKI/AAAAAAAAAMk/5OWYOZ_Lf5o/s72-c/kindblogger_award.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>31</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-6476985054315735822</id><published>2008-02-10T22:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:24.499-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm In the Guiness Book of World Records!</title><content type='html'>...for eating potato chips!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R6_IAxTZiHI/AAAAAAAAAMM/VMS2lEK65h8/s1600-h/Picture+055.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165567213177505906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R6_IAxTZiHI/AAAAAAAAAMM/VMS2lEK65h8/s320/Picture+055.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; OK, not me alone. We went to our local hockey game last night. Everyone received a bag of potato chips when they got in the game. At the last 10 minutes of the 1rst quarter, they told everyone to start eating! We made it! We are all now in the Guiness Book of World Records for the most people at one time eating potato chips. Pretty cool, huh? &lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R6_IbhTZiII/AAAAAAAAAMU/vysm-wFKa1E/s1600-h/Picture+054.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165567672739006594" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R6_IbhTZiII/AAAAAAAAAMU/vysm-wFKa1E/s320/Picture+054.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is goofy daughter and her friend taking a picture of themselves eating. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R6_IxRTZiJI/AAAAAAAAAMc/-faANCCD6mo/s1600-h/Picture+057.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165568046401161362" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R6_IxRTZiJI/AAAAAAAAAMc/-faANCCD6mo/s320/Picture+057.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is a bad picture of me and 7-year old and hubby. (My hubby is out of town this week for work so I'm sad.) After the game my son told me he thought it was a competition to see who could eat their chips the fastest, and he wanted to know who won. He ate his as fast as he could. Well, they DID make us all stand up, say, "OK, ready, set, start eating!".  My other son was there too, but he was on the complete opposite side from us with his friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;My 7-year old's boy scouts are going to one of the games in a few weeks. It would cost $9.00 per person. We would need 5 tickets (my youngest would not go). We suggested to them to go this night with the school. No one seemed to want to do that.The school gives free tickets to all the kids plus my husbands and my tickets would be $8.50. Hmm, $45.00 or $17.00.? We chose the $17. Then the boy scouts still expected us to go with them. Uh, no thanks. We had a great time, AND we made it into The Guiness Book of World Records!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-6476985054315735822?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/6476985054315735822/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=6476985054315735822' title='26 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/6476985054315735822'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/6476985054315735822'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/02/im-in-guiness-book-of-world-records.html' title='I&apos;m In the Guiness Book of World Records!'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R6_IAxTZiHI/AAAAAAAAAMM/VMS2lEK65h8/s72-c/Picture+055.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>26</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-7171037702759414091</id><published>2008-02-09T14:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-09T15:09:34.711-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memes'/><title type='text'>Ten Things I Never Get Tired of Doing</title><content type='html'>1. Blogging. I never would have believed how much I love it and all the bloggy friends I have made. It's a whole new world for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Drinking coffee in the morning. I love just holding the hot cup when I'm still sleepy and cold. I love the smell of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Watching TV at night with my 14-year old. Right now we're watching season two of Gilmore Girls. I get the rest of the kids off to bed, and let her stay up a little later. It's her time of the day that she "talks".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Saturday night date night. My husband and I don't go out a lot, so we like to eat a late dinner after the little ones are in bed. Tonight we are going to a hockey game, so we'll have to eat an early dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Being a stay-at-home-mom. I don't know for how much longer, though. My youngest will be in preschool this year!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Watching a baseball game. We have a great local baseball team and get cheap or free tickets all the time. The kids love chasing the balls and fighting for flying Tshirts. I even love watching my sons play.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Cooking a good meal. What can I say? I love food! Tonight - barbequed ribs and oven baked steak fries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Reading a book. I need to find more time for this!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. Taking a long walk/run. I feel so good when I'm done. It gives me time to think without hearing a constant, "Mom!".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. Shopping. Like &lt;a href="http://www.flynnards.blogspot.com/"&gt;Leslie&lt;/a&gt; said, it just makes me happy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am adding this to &lt;a href="http://caffinatedcropper.blogspot.com/"&gt;Amy's&lt;/a&gt; meme. I like how she always writes her list of what she's grateful for.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-7171037702759414091?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/7171037702759414091/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=7171037702759414091' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/7171037702759414091'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/7171037702759414091'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/02/ten-things-i-never-get-tired-of-doing.html' title='Ten Things I Never Get Tired of Doing'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-1590748882829874992</id><published>2008-02-07T22:55:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-07T23:16:23.135-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Crazy Days</title><content type='html'>I'm so tired right now that my head actually hurts. It seems like I don't sleep anymore. By the time I get to bed, after talking to the kids, blogging, and reading a few pages of my book, it's 12:00! I wake up at 6 when my husband is leaving for work. My alarm goes off at 6:15 so I can make sure my daughter is out of bed (she's usually not). I get back in bed for 15 minutes then get my daughter off to school. Yes, I have to get up with her because she always forgets something or wears an outfit that doesn't match, or something. Then I get back in bed, set my alarm for 7:15 to make sure my 11-year old got up for school. Then I get back in bed again, and just lie there for 20 minutes, and finally get up for good. This is why I'm tired every day. I just don't have enough hours in the day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was especially hectic. I drove my 7-year old to school at 9:00. At 11:00 I had to drive to my other son's school to drop off his ski club stuff. Then I went to the grocery store, then to the Bon Ton (got some good deals on sweaters!). I got home, made some tea, and was going to sit down and rest while my youngest played on the computer  when the phone rang:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mom?" It was my 14-year old calling from school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh no. What?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I forgot my jacket and pass for skiing. Can you bring it over?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I was just there!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You were? Oh, sorry. Please?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Be right there."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I only had 1 hour to myself. Now I would be down to 1/2 hour and I was so tired. I ran to the bathroom and noticed the toilet was clogged. This toilet has never clogged before so I figured I'd just try flushing it and holding the lever. The water started coming up to the edge! I quickly picked up the lid to the back of the toilet and my candle on it fell and glass broke everywhere. I decided I should at least clean up the glass real quickly. I cut my finger. Could this get any crazier? My 4-year old was not happy about getting back in the car again, but we did anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When my kids got home from ski club today, my daughter said my son almost missed the ski bus! Everyone was on the bus and the teacher asked her where her brother was! He thought that if the bus leaves at 8:30 you should get on it at 8:25. "No! 8:15!". Also, a girl on the ski lift in front of my son fell off! She screamed and slipped off. She broke either her ankles or her wrist. She was riding with the bar up! "I hope you guys never do that!" So now I have to get some sleep! Tomorrow will come again, and it will probably be a crazy day again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-1590748882829874992?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/1590748882829874992/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=1590748882829874992' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/1590748882829874992'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/1590748882829874992'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/02/crazy-days.html' title='Crazy Days'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-7196194005216451016</id><published>2008-02-06T08:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:24.670-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teenager'/><title type='text'>My Kids Are Growing Up!</title><content type='html'>It just hit me all in one week! I'm looking for a preschool to send my youngest to. I haven't been home without a kid for 14 years! My oldest was picking out her elective classes for high school yesterday! I don't feel like I'm old enough to have a high schooler! I'm NOT that old, am I? She's choosing computer and art classes. She also has to take a pool class, which they now call "aquatics", a basic computer class, and freshman seminar. She's so excited and definitely ready to go. It's a huge school. In fact, the school in split up into two buildings, one for 9th/10 grade, the other for 11/12 grade, with about 700 kids per grade. She even started looking for a summer job this week. She's applying at the zoo and Rita's Italian Ice. (Does anyone have know anywhere else you can get a job at 14?) You see your kids everyday. Sometimes you don't realize how much they've grown. Well, last night I was watching TV with my daughter and looked up at her and this is what I saw! Oh my gosh! She's so big!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R6m3DrIVp2I/AAAAAAAAAME/HOFzLvuLeH4/s1600-h/blog+pics+002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163859721502173026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R6m3DrIVp2I/AAAAAAAAAME/HOFzLvuLeH4/s320/blog+pics+002.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Also last night, my 7 year old was getting ready for bed and asked me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mom, when I get old, can I come and live with you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sure you can!", I said. And I really meant it, even I know HE won't want to when he gets old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He clapped his hands together and said, "YES!".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then he asked me if my mom will be living with us, too. I told him, "You'd like that, huh?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said, "That would be funny. 'Baba, Gaga (my dad, who is 82 years old now), it's time to get up!' ".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, he still thinks my parents will be around then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later on last night, my 3-year old got out of bed:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mom, I don't want to get any bigger, but I keep getting bigger!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"OK! We'll figure out something to do about that in the morning!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's not going to work!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Time for bed!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My 11-year old is growing up, also. He's grown into that, "I'm a cool middle schooler" age. I'm hoping this will end soon!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-7196194005216451016?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/7196194005216451016/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=7196194005216451016' title='19 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/7196194005216451016'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/7196194005216451016'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/02/my-kids-are-growing-up.html' title='My Kids Are Growing Up!'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R6m3DrIVp2I/AAAAAAAAAME/HOFzLvuLeH4/s72-c/blog+pics+002.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>19</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-7006986064265770487</id><published>2008-02-05T08:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:24.928-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Ahhh. Doesn't This Look Yummy?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R6h6x7IVp1I/AAAAAAAAAL8/9T5zjFHFOHA/s1600-h/blog+pics+077.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163511970885117778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R6h6x7IVp1I/AAAAAAAAAL8/9T5zjFHFOHA/s320/blog+pics+077.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Girlymom at &lt;a href="http://momof4girls.blogspot.com/2008/01/100-things-challenge.html"&gt;The Red Door&lt;/a&gt; has challenged all her readers to the 100 Things Challenge. I did three last night. Boy let me tell you, this was really difficult! #52 Taking a bubble bath? Ahhh. I waited until the kids were asleep (or it would have been a party in there!), poured my Cucumber Melon bubble bath from Bath and Body Works in (mmm, too bad you couldn't smell it), put on my Crest Whitestrips (my daughter said my teeth aren't as white as hers), and put on a facial mask (daughter says my pores are starting to look gross). #41 I read a little. Then just closed my eyes and relaxed. When I got out I used my new Bath and Body works foot cream. #44 I even got to bed early! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's how it works:&lt;br /&gt;1. Pick 5 activities from the list&lt;br /&gt;2. Do the activities&lt;br /&gt;3. Take a picture of the activities being done (if picture unavailable, just tell us about activity)&lt;br /&gt;4. Copy this list and post the pictures of the activities being done&lt;br /&gt;5. Let me know that you posted the pictures of the activities being done&lt;br /&gt;6. I will link to your blog, so we can all see the pictures of the activities being done&lt;br /&gt;7. Add your own activity idea to your comment&lt;br /&gt;8. Check out everyone else's blogs&lt;br /&gt;9. Create a FUN, creative blog group&lt;br /&gt;10. Enjoy life, this is meant to be fun, silly, light hearted&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanks for the challenge Amy! I'll continue with them later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R6h5PbIVp0I/AAAAAAAAAL0/QX8EjkmxVpU/s1600-h/wonderfulwomenwaward(Dawn).jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163510278668003138" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R6h5PbIVp0I/AAAAAAAAAL0/QX8EjkmxVpU/s200/wonderfulwomenwaward(Dawn).jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Kitty at &lt;a href="http://kittywrinkle.blogspot.com/"&gt;Kitty's Bloggy Bits&lt;/a&gt; has awarded all her readers with the Wonderful Women of the Web Award. I love to read her blog. She's actually one of my first bloggy friends! Thank you Kitty!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-7006986064265770487?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/7006986064265770487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=7006986064265770487' title='19 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/7006986064265770487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/7006986064265770487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/02/ahhh-doesnt-this-look-yummy.html' title='Ahhh. Doesn&apos;t This Look Yummy?'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R6h6x7IVp1I/AAAAAAAAAL8/9T5zjFHFOHA/s72-c/blog+pics+077.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>19</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-1974411057483410691</id><published>2008-02-04T09:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:25.354-05:00</updated><title type='text'>A Very Stinky Subject</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://i3.tinypic.com/80paxr9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i3.tinypic.com/80paxr9.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;One guess about what we have living under our porch! Yes, it's a skunk! He's actually been living there for quite a while. We noticed stinky last summer. We've seen him walking around. One time last summer I took a walk with my kids at night. As we were heading home we smelled a skunk. "Uh oh, something got it!", we said. As we got closer to home, the smell got even stronger. When I got home, the&lt;em&gt; inside &lt;/em&gt;of my house reeked! "Did someone leave the door open!", I said frantically. I even looked around the house. We finally figured out he got my cat. Luckily it wasn't too bad. I gave him a tomato sauce bath in the yard, and stuck him in the garage to sleep that night. I think he sprayed right outside my screen door. It took days to air out the house. I hoped that the skunk would just leave when winter came.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A couple of days ago, I was on my computer (blogging of course), when I heard a little scratching noise in my living room. I was a little afraid because I've heard that noise before and it was a mouse. I tiptoed into the living room and didn't see anything. The next day I was on the computer again, heard the noise again, but this time it was in my computer room where I was! I turned around and noticed my daughter's balloon, slowly moving around and scratching the ceiling. Phew! No animal!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, the next morning we woke up and our basement smelled like a skunk! Was there really a skunk in the house? I decided not to panick and to just carefully check every corner of the basement after the kids got off to school. My daughter walked out of the house to go to school, there he was! He was just standing by the corner of my porch! I was so happy! He's not in my basement! But this means, he's still here.&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R6c437IVpzI/AAAAAAAAALs/RrPFMjMmc7I/s1600-h/blog+012.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163158031220188978" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R6c437IVpzI/AAAAAAAAALs/RrPFMjMmc7I/s200/blog+012.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R6c207IVpyI/AAAAAAAAALk/VGfrG41OdYg/s1600-h/blog+011.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5163155780657325858" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R6c207IVpyI/AAAAAAAAALk/VGfrG41OdYg/s200/blog+011.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tried once before to fill in the hole he dug under my porch. He just knawed his way back in (or maybe it was out). I want him gone! How can we get rid of him? I could pay someone to take him out, but I really don't want to spend the money. My sister said her husband will come over and take care of him. Uh, I don't think so. My husband's friend said just to set up a trap outside of his hole. Once he's inside, wait until he settles down. Then just drape a towel over the trap. Take him out to the country. Open the trap up, and let him walk away. Yah right! I'm too afraid to do that! I guess I'll pay for someone to come get him eventually. Last night I tried my mom's idea with how she got rid of her chipmunk in her heater vent. She just sprayed Tilex in it. The chipmunk ran out and never came back. Last night I sprayed bleach all around the porch. This morning, my daughter left for school, and motioned to me, "There he is!". He was in the hole. I guess the bleach didn't work. Does anyone know how to get rid of him? My mom tried to tell me that skunks make nice pets. "Then you can have him!" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-1974411057483410691?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/1974411057483410691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=1974411057483410691' title='21 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/1974411057483410691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/1974411057483410691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/02/very-stinky-subject.html' title='A Very Stinky Subject'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i3.tinypic.com/80paxr9_th.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>21</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-7253232258435931295</id><published>2008-02-01T22:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:25.585-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Gameboy Movies</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R6Ps9rIVpvI/AAAAAAAAALM/w6dEOia_CkI/s1600-h/blog+009.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5162230142190593778" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R6Ps9rIVpvI/AAAAAAAAALM/w6dEOia_CkI/s320/blog+009.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This is something neat that I just thought about. Did you ever see the movies that you can buy for the Gameboys? There's not that many, but it's a great idea, especially for the younger kids. We have a couple of the Cartoon Network shows and we have Shrek 2. My 14 year old wanted to take it on the ski bus for her to watch with her friend, but then ended up forgetting the earphones (you need them to hear anything on the bus). They also work on the Nintendo DS. It's a great idea if you have the Nintendo, but not a portable DVD player. It's so easy to carry around, too. My youngest just discovered it today, so she was busy watching it. She kept calling Shrek2 - Sharkboy and Lavagirl. I told her no, it was Shrek 2. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;"No it's not mom. It's Shrek 8. I'm serious mom." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;OK, whatever. But anyway, to take to a basketball game or for the ride on the bus, great.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-7253232258435931295?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/7253232258435931295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=7253232258435931295' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/7253232258435931295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/7253232258435931295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/02/gameboy-movies.html' title='Gameboy Movies'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R6Ps9rIVpvI/AAAAAAAAALM/w6dEOia_CkI/s72-c/blog+009.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-4169058759504761084</id><published>2008-01-31T22:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-31T23:06:10.992-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='skiing'/><title type='text'>Should I Be Worried?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i25.tinypic.com/r0o2rk.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i25.tinypic.com/r0o2rk.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight was ski club night for my 11 and 14-year olds. They both do the snowboarding and just love it. My 14-year old is learning it for the first time. She's getting good enough to go down some of the hills that her more experienced friends can go down. Luckily, though, she's also a scaredy-cat. She's afraid of heights. She won't go on any high rides at amusement parks. I don't have to worry about her doing anything stupid while snowboarding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My 11-year old has been snowboarding for a few years now. He's passionate about it. Without my knowing, he told the instructors that he's good enough to learn jumping, so they put him in the group that teaches jumping. He told me he's so good he can't believe it. He wants to constantly improve. He doesn't have the fear. This is why he wears a helmet. I tell him ALL THE TIME, "Be super carefull! Please don't do anything stupid!".  "I won't, mom." I know he doesn't &lt;em&gt;think&lt;/em&gt;  he'll do anything stupid.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm usually not a worrywart. I don't know why. I'm careful. I make sure my kids are careful, but I just don't worry that much. Snowboarding worries me. I remember when I was little. My friend's older sister was in the ski club at school and broke her leg. People ride into trees and get seriously hurt (but I can't say the "D" word on my blog). One of my neighbors is a senior in high school, and he is an instructor at the ski resort. He's even going to college in Colorado to take up something about snowboarding. He loves it too. I ran into him this afternoon at Best Buy. He wasn't in school, and was on crutches. I told him, "Please don't tell me you did that snowboarding!". "Yes", he said, and he told me how he ran into a tree while snowboarding in Oregon with his freinds. He ripped his leg in a few places. He just had surgery yesterday and won't be able to walk for 6 months. I felt sick. My kids have ski club tonight!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, my kids came home fine, other than some bruised up knees. Then my daughter said, "Guess what happened tonight?". I didn't think I wanted to know. I didn't. One of the boys in her class forgot his helmet and crashed. He got a concussion. She didn't know exactly what happened, but he wasn't on the ski bus home. I love how my kids get the chance to do this, but I hope I'm not making a mistake. I know a lot of people are skiers, but I also know a lot of people get seriously hurt skiing. Only three more weeks of worrying left.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-4169058759504761084?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/4169058759504761084/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=4169058759504761084' title='20 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/4169058759504761084'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/4169058759504761084'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/01/should-i-be-worried.html' title='Should I Be Worried?'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i25.tinypic.com/r0o2rk_th.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>20</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-3398444788822274398</id><published>2008-01-30T09:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:25.731-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I've Been High-Fived</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R6CVcLIVptI/AAAAAAAAAK8/fimTYN0jsDo/s1600-h/waitinghighfive.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5161289484223227602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R6CVcLIVptI/AAAAAAAAAK8/fimTYN0jsDo/s320/waitinghighfive.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've been high-fived by my friend Marie at &lt;a href="http://mariesthoughtsonlife.blogspot.com/"&gt;Marie's Random Thoughts on Love and Life&lt;/a&gt;. It's an archive meme.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here is the reason why this meme was started:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I know that when I find a new blog that I want to visit again, I rarely have enough time to go back and read everything from the beginning (although sometimes I do!). I want to get to know that person, but it's hard to commit to reading all of the posts from the last 2 years!This meme is designed to make some of those old posts readily available to those who may be new to your blog, or even those who are regulars, just not from the start."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are the rules:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Go back through your archives and post the links to your five favorite blog posts that you’ve written. But there is a catch:Link 1 must be about family.Link 2 must be about friends.Link 3 must be about yourself.Link 4 must be about something you love.Link 5 can be anything you choose.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Post your five links and then tag five other people. At least TWO of the people you tag must be newer acquaintances so that you get to know each other better. Readers - don’t forget to read the archive posts and leave comments! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So, here's my list of links:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2007/11/youre-too-young-for-that.html"&gt;Family&lt;/a&gt;-This was probably the funniest post I wrote. My daughter is now 4 and is already out of this difficult stage! I can't believe how much she changed since then!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/01/happy-new-years.html"&gt;Friends&lt;/a&gt;-Oh my gosh. I just realized I barely write about my friends, probably because I barely SEE my friends. That reminded my of my list of resolutions.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2007/12/7-random-things-about-myself.html"&gt;Myself&lt;/a&gt;-My list of 7 most random things about myself!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2007/12/kids-on-vacation-me-on-vacation.html"&gt;Something I love&lt;/a&gt;-Well what I love more than anything else, I guess, is doing things with my kids. I love weekends, and when they're on vacation from school.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2007/12/living-on-budget.html"&gt;Anything&lt;/a&gt;-I have to say that my new budget that I've been on has had a big impact on me. I'm still so excited. I've gone from spending $200 to $100/week on groceries for a family of 6! I figured I already saved about $600! Read this one. It was my lifesaver.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I have to tag 5 people. I choose...&lt;a href="http://lordsofthemanor.blogspot.com/"&gt; Jen&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://flynnards.blogspot.com/"&gt;Leslie&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://ourpieceoftheworld.blogspot.com/"&gt;Irene&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://suburbancorrespondent.blogspot.com/"&gt;SuburbanCorrespondent&lt;/a&gt;, and &lt;a href="http://4girls4me.blogspot.com/"&gt;Steph&lt;/a&gt;. Have fun!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-3398444788822274398?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/3398444788822274398/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=3398444788822274398' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/3398444788822274398'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/3398444788822274398'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/01/ive-been-high-fived.html' title='I&apos;ve Been High-Fived'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R6CVcLIVptI/AAAAAAAAAK8/fimTYN0jsDo/s72-c/waitinghighfive.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-6545973709789999542</id><published>2008-01-29T08:23:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:26.117-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='books'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='reading'/><title type='text'>Raising a Reader</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R59YVbIVprI/AAAAAAAAAKs/DzNydJzTx24/s1600-h/41HWBR4qxLL._AA240_.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5160940823073105586" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R59YVbIVprI/AAAAAAAAAKs/DzNydJzTx24/s200/41HWBR4qxLL._AA240_.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've been trying to get my 11-year old to enjoy reading more. I always read to him when he was little. I insist that he gets to bed early enough every night so he can read for at least 1/2 hour. Though he gets good grades in school, he's not the fastest reader, therefore doesn't enjoy reading. I tried to explain to him that it just takes practice, and that books are usually better than the movies. He doesn't believe me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My oldest loves to read. She's read so much, that she found that there's very few books that she doesn't like. I think the main reason is because I read TONS of books to her when she was little. I had a lot more time back then. We went to the library every week, listened to story time, and got a huge pile of books. Every afternoon we'd sit down and read a stack of them. Every night we'd read between 6-10 books. When she got older, I still read to her. I read lots of the American Girl books. She used to get so excited. I loved them too. I'm proud of her. Right now she has an unofficial "book club" with her friends. They each buy a book, read it, then trade them with each other. Tonight we're meeting her friends at Border's so I can buy the new Grisham book (yea!) and she and her friends can buy their books. I think that's pretty cool for 14-year olds!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;With each kid I had, it seems that I read with them less. My husband and I still read to the youngest two, but with boy scouts, basketball practice, and picking up kids from wherever they are, sometimes we're lucky just to read one book. I want my youngest to be a big reader as my oldest is, so I decided I'm going to start reading to her more. I'm going to read books every afternoon, and really try to read more than one book at night.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My 11-year old is reading Swiss Family Robinson now. He told me he only likes funny books. The other night he didn't have anything to read, so we went into my daughter's "library", and I picked out Swiss Family Robinson for him. He said, "Oh, I love that movie!". I told him, "Then read the book! The books are always so much better." He agreed to try it. Later that night, when I was putting my other son to bed, I asked him how his book was. He gave me a thumbs up. I told him, "Now you have another type of book that you like!". He said, "Yeah, adventure books!". Hopefully his enthusiasm will last. I'm not going to give up on this. Does anyone have any ideas for some good books for boys?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R59AVLIVpqI/AAAAAAAAAKk/yro4QyTxx9Q/s1600-h/Excellent+Award.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5160914430499071650" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R59AVLIVpqI/AAAAAAAAAKk/yro4QyTxx9Q/s200/Excellent%2525252BAward.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Cathy from &lt;a href="http://bit-of-blarney.blogspot.com/"&gt;A Bit of the Blarney&lt;/a&gt; gave me this award! This really made my day! Cathy is my newer bloggy friend. I enjoy reading her blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The rules:By accepting this Excellent Blog Award, you have to award it to 10 more people whose blogs you find Excellent Award worthy. You can give it to as many people as you want-even those that have received it already, but please award at least 10 people.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I will give it to all my "Amy" friends: &lt;a href="http://caffinatedcropper.blogspot.com/"&gt;Amy&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://kelly4.blogspot.com/"&gt;Amy&lt;/a&gt;, and &lt;a href="http://seibelblog.blogspot.com/"&gt;Amy&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://little-but-loud.blogspot.com/"&gt;Shellie&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://notaspareminute.blogspot.com/"&gt;Kidzmama&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://mom.buttermouth.com/"&gt;OHMommy&lt;/a&gt;,&lt;a href="http://www.theburghbaby.com/"&gt; Burgh's Baby Mom&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://laughingleahloveslillies.blogspot.com/"&gt;Leah&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://ladolcevitathesweetlifewiththreesons.blogspot.com/"&gt;Bia&lt;/a&gt;, and &lt;a href="http://talesofablenderkimmy.blogspot.com/"&gt;Kimmy&lt;/a&gt;. Thank you Cathy!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-6545973709789999542?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/6545973709789999542/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=6545973709789999542' title='24 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/6545973709789999542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/6545973709789999542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/01/raising-reader.html' title='Raising a Reader'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R59YVbIVprI/AAAAAAAAAKs/DzNydJzTx24/s72-c/41HWBR4qxLL._AA240_.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>24</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-6182052952253280419</id><published>2008-01-27T22:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-27T22:56:29.850-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Over Their Heads...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i9.tinypic.com/4t5n32q.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i9.tinypic.com/4t5n32q.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Tonight we went to my mom's house for dinner, like we do almost every Sunday. My mom's neighbor, who live across the street, had just passed away a few days ago from cancer. She told me that she had just found out that her other neighbor, who lived two houses down from, her had died on the same day as her other neighbor. I told her, "Don't tell me, from cancer?". She didn't know. I can't believe how many people I have heard of who had cancer lately. My friend lost her father and father-in-law to cancer in the past year. My 11 year old has two friends who lost a parent to cancer in the past year. Two people about my age at church have been diagnosed with it. It seems like I've been reading about it a lot on people's blogs. It scary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But, anyway, my 11 year old, who was standing by listening, asked us, "How do you get it, or what can you do?". My mom told him that there are cancer cells in your body all the time. Then I noticed him eating the strawberries. I told him, "Eat strawberries. I heard strawberries referred to as cancer fighters, because they can actually kill the little cancer cells in your body before they do anything." To which my son replies:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"I can't wait for golfing!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We burst into laughter. Maybe he's avoiding a tough subject, or it's over his head, but one things for sure, he can go from one subject to the next without batting an eyelash! Leave it to the kids to lighten things up!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-6182052952253280419?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/6182052952253280419/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=6182052952253280419' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/6182052952253280419'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/6182052952253280419'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/01/its-over-their-heads.html' title='It&apos;s Over Their Heads...'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i9.tinypic.com/4t5n32q_th.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-2408636737356381336</id><published>2008-01-26T10:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:26.542-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='EBay'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tuna burgers'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='recipes'/><title type='text'>Delicious, CHEAP Dinner</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R5tpCbIVpnI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/PMsxXTXf9jQ/s1600-h/blog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159833288446420594" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R5tpCbIVpnI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/PMsxXTXf9jQ/s200/blog.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I made the best dinner last night. Too bad I had to eat it all by myself. My husband and kids won't eat fish. I probably could have gotten my daughter to eat it, but she ate earlier. I made myself a&lt;strong&gt; Tuna Burger&lt;/strong&gt;. I actually made up this recipe myself! I made it once before, and meant to write it down and never did, so I had to try and remember what I put in it last time. When I sat down with hubby I was oohing and ahhing over it. "This is sooo good! I think I could sell this in a restaurant!" Hubby didn't seem too impressed, so I just had to share it here. I served it with mashed potatoes and steamed broccoli. Believe me, the picture doesn't do it justice. I hope someone will try it and let me know how it came out. So anyway, here's how I made it: &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tuna Burgers&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1 can albacore tuna (This is the trick. You need the albacore to make it chunky.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1/2 cup Italian seasoned bread crumbs&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;salt and pepper&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1 tablespoon green onion (Last night I used red onion.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1 tablespoon Parmesan cheese&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1 egg&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;1 tablespoon Miracle Whip (or mayo)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First put the tuna in a bowl without breaking it apart. Then add the rest of the ingredients on top. Carefully mixed it together with a fork, slightly pulling apart the tuna, without mashing it (you want the burger to have lots of chunks of tuna in it). Then add a little more bread crumbs, just until you can scoop up the mixture. Place half of the mixture on a plate of bread crumbs, sprinkle more on top, and shape into a patty. Drizzle olive oil on top, and place in grill pan on med. high heat. Drizzle more oil on the top side. When it gets nice and brown, flip and cook until that side gets brown. Place the burger in a bun and top with ranch dressing mixed with hot sauce. If you like tuna burgers, try this. It's so cheap and easy to make. Yummy! I'm so impressed with myself!&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;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://i24.ebayimg.com/01/i/000/d3/35/bf0b_2.JPG" border="0" /&gt;On other notes, for Christmas I got my husband a subscription of Golf Digest magazine. He just got his first issue this week. He's a happy golfer now. Did you know you can buy subscriptions on EBay? My sister told me once before how cheap they are, so I decided to check it out. I found 1 year of Golf Digest for $2.79 and free shipping! I just looked today and they have 3 years for $3.79 with free shipping! They say the reason they're so cheap is because they make all their money with their ads, not the magazine itself. I got Parents magazine for the past 14 years. I thought about $9.00 was a good price for it. I looked up the price on EBay today and it was $5.95 for 3 years and free shipping! If you get any subscriptions, look up the price there!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-2408636737356381336?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/2408636737356381336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=2408636737356381336' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/2408636737356381336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/2408636737356381336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/01/delicious-cheap-dinner.html' title='Delicious, CHEAP Dinner'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R5tpCbIVpnI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/PMsxXTXf9jQ/s72-c/blog.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-8970399055910499275</id><published>2008-01-24T21:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:26.729-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Me</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R5lOerIVpmI/AAAAAAAAAKI/u-gzyOSL-p4/s1600-h/blog+pics+146.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5159241137010353762" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R5lOerIVpmI/AAAAAAAAAKI/u-gzyOSL-p4/s200/blog+pics+146.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;OK, this is me. My sister took this picture of me to use on my profile. I WAS going to use it, until I took a closer look. In front of me is a bottle of Peach Schnapps. Behind me to the right is a bottle of gin! Next to that is, uh, something. I'm not really sure. It looks like I'm at a wild party. I was actually at my mom's house for dinner with my sister and her family and my cousin. Not exactly a happening party, but I didn't want anyone getting the wrong impression of me! Oh, and also, there a paper coming out of my head!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I think she felt bad for me, because she made me this new layout and is going to try to edit out all that background stuff. So here's the pic for now. Hopefully the new one will come soon. (So, is this what you thought I looked like?)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-8970399055910499275?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/8970399055910499275/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=8970399055910499275' title='24 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/8970399055910499275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/8970399055910499275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/01/me.html' title='Me'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R5lOerIVpmI/AAAAAAAAAKI/u-gzyOSL-p4/s72-c/blog+pics+146.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>24</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-6178721700198428457</id><published>2008-01-23T22:40:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-04-02T12:12:55.779-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthdays'/><title type='text'>Birthday Parties Everywhere!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.invitationland.com/images/stories/cardjpgs/q19.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.invitationland.com/images/stories/cardjpgs/q19.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Within one weeks time, our kids have been invited to 6 birthday parties! I guess this was a good month to have babies. Two of my son's friend's birthdays were today. The kids are all excited. One was a sled riding party. Another is a bowling party. Another is at the local indoor water park.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remember when I was little. None of my friends had big birthday parties. If they had a party, it was at their house, just some games with prizes and cake and ice cream. When we got a little older, a few of us would have a slumber party. I don't do a lot for my kids parties. I really can't afford to do big parties for 4 kids every year! I let them have a party or two, but usually we just do something small, like letting them invite a friend along to go bowling with us. Last summer I let my 7 year old have his party at the local outdoor pool. It was great! We invited his whole baseball team. We brought our own food, and just had to pay for each kid to swim ($3.00). He's already talking about where he wants his party to be this year. What party? He can go swimming again! No, he wants friends over the house, but I don't know if I'm up for the chaos of little boys running around my house. Actually, if I could, I'd do a big party almost every year. The kids have so much fun, but that's just out of the question.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My husband can't believe all the parties my kids have been invited to. He once told me that they don't have to go to every party that they're invited to. Sounds rational, I guess, but then I reminded him of "the birthday party story":&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When my 11 year old was in 3rd grade, he got an invitation on the last day of school to a skating party for a boy that was not exactly his best friend. He was considered by many to be a "bad" kid. "Bad" as in just a troublemaker, but not a mean kid. My son said he didn't know if he wanted to go, because he wasn't really friends with him. I convinced him to go, because he loves to skate, and there would probably be lots of his other friends there. Well he went, and had fun. When I went to pick him up, I talked to his mom and asked her how many kids she invited. She told me 24, but only &lt;em&gt;TWO&lt;/em&gt; showed up. The other kids didn't even call to RSVP, so she wasn't sure how many would actually come. She brought with her 24 treat bags. I was shocked. All I could do was agree how rude that was. I was SO glad my son was one of the only 2 who went. From then on, I decided that my kids will go to any birthday party that they were invited to, unless, of course, we couldn't. So the "bad kid"... I don't think that helped him much. Even Monica Lewinski never forget how Tory Spelling invited her whole class, minus Monica, to her birthday party.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why don't people RSVP? It means to say if you're coming or not, unless it states regrets only. I'm sure maybe a few of the kids forgot all about it. Maybe some just didn't show their mom's the invitation, but 22 people? The birthday parties at the indoor water park are very expensive. The last time my son went there, the invitations said "regrets only" on it. I knew that was a mistake. I don't know how many didn't show up, but the mother told me the place made a lot of money on their party. They paid for a lot of people that didn't show up. It would have been cheaper for them to just pay for each kid that came.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the other hand, last fall, my 7 year old was invited to a birthday party for a girl in his class. The whole class was invited over her house. My son didn't care to go because she was a &lt;em&gt;girl.&lt;/em&gt; I, once again, convinced my son he'd have his other friends there, and that he'd have lots of fun. He went. I got bad vibes from the minute I dropped him off, but just brushed it off. My son walked in their house and said to me, "What smells?". I was embarrassed that my son was so rude. There were a couple adults standing there and I didn't know which one was the mother. After a few minutes I realized it was the one standing right in front of me! She didn't say anything! OK, whatever. Then I came back to pick him up and my son ran out of the house and said, "This was the worst party I ever went to!". I still thought he was just being rude. Then, on the ride home, he told me the mom was putting all the boys in time out. At a birthday party? Then they wouldn't let my son have any pop because they told him I said he could only have milk or water. I didn't say that. My son asked them for a phone to call home and ask me, and they told him they didn't have a phone. Later I talked to some of the other moms, and they all agreed that the house was dirty and it was a strange party. What do you do when you show up at a party, then decide you don't want your son to go anymore? I know what I'll do next time. I'll, at the very least, pick him up very early and say we have to go somewhere. I guess this is the other extreme, and usually very unlikely to happen. One of the moms told me, "I can't believe how many parents just drop their kids off without leaving a contact number!". I didn't. "Oh, I know", I lied. Sometimes you just are trying to be nice, and it just doesn't work out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-6178721700198428457?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/6178721700198428457/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=6178721700198428457' title='23 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/6178721700198428457'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/6178721700198428457'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/01/birthday-parties-everywhere.html' title='Birthday Parties Everywhere!'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>23</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-8438160241990826600</id><published>2008-01-22T22:50:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-23T10:20:40.598-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Wiener Game</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://i12.tinypic.com/6btzsqh.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://i12.tinypic.com/6btzsqh.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My two youngest are always finding new very creative games to play. Sometimes they play spy. Sometimes it's monster. They look for the "bad" guys in our house. Well I was watching TV, when I heard my 7 year old ask my 4 year old,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hey, do you want to play the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;wiener&lt;/span&gt; game?".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Yeah&lt;/span&gt;!", she said. I chuckled under my breath. It &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;does &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;sound kind of funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What's that game?", I asked them. Then they showed me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We put the balloon between our legs and chase each other around the house with it!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know where they got this from! I'm so glad no one was over to see it! I monitor what they watch on TV. My older kids don't talk like that, and I don't either! I calmly just said,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Uh, you can't call the game that. It doesn't sound good. You should call it something like..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;balloon&lt;/span&gt; game?", my son replies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then they ran off to play the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;wien&lt;/span&gt;, I mean the balloon game. The next day my 4 year old asked my 7 year old if&lt;em&gt; he&lt;/em&gt; wanted to play, once again, the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;wiener&lt;/span&gt; game. Thankfully my son replied,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We're going to call it the &lt;em&gt;balloon &lt;/em&gt;game, now."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She didn't seem to think anything and ran off to play. I guess it could have been worse! I was shocked at the time it happened, but now I am very happy with how I responded. Very cool. Kids say the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;darndest&lt;/span&gt; things!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-8438160241990826600?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/8438160241990826600/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=8438160241990826600' title='23 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/8438160241990826600'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/8438160241990826600'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/01/weiner-game.html' title='The Wiener Game'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i12.tinypic.com/6btzsqh_th.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>23</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-1314752074389478185</id><published>2008-01-21T12:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-21T12:47:16.277-05:00</updated><title type='text'>New Layout!</title><content type='html'>I finally got my new layout! I still want to add a picture of myself (I think!)  and a picture on the header. I picked out a really cute layout and couldn't get it working right. I took me hours, so I just decided on this one. I like it for now, and at least it's something different. I think I'll just keep this for a while, until I'm ready to spend some more hours on getting a new one. So, what do you think? Any ideas for me?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-1314752074389478185?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/1314752074389478185/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=1314752074389478185' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/1314752074389478185'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/1314752074389478185'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/01/new-layout.html' title='New Layout!'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-8781485844501906984</id><published>2008-01-19T16:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:27.763-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='recipes'/><title type='text'>Homemade Soft Pretzels</title><content type='html'>When you have four kids, your house seems so quiet and calm when two of them are gone. Thursday night was ski club for my oldest two, and my husband went with them, so I decided to make some homemade soft pretzels since I had some free time. I got the recipe from my mother-in-law years ago. They came out great, so I decided to try them again. Rolling out each pretzel did take some time, but if you have your kids help, it could go a lot faster. They might even enjoy doing it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Pretzels Recipe&lt;/strong&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 1/4 cups water (room temperature)&lt;br /&gt;1/4 cup oil&lt;br /&gt;2 tablespoons sugar&lt;br /&gt;1 teaspoon salt&lt;br /&gt;4 cups flour&lt;br /&gt;2 1/4 teaspoons bread machine yeast&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Combine ingredients into bread machine. Set on dough cycle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R5JzJy9MfMI/AAAAAAAAAJU/63r8dZZIjvg/s1600-h/blog+pics+141.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157311135427099842" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R5JzJy9MfMI/AAAAAAAAAJU/63r8dZZIjvg/s200/blog+pics+141.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Next, place dough on floured surface and divide into 4 parts. Divide those four parts into six pieces.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R5J01y9MfNI/AAAAAAAAAJc/RS3vMbLpj9I/s1600-h/blog+pics+142.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157312990852971730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R5J01y9MfNI/AAAAAAAAAJc/RS3vMbLpj9I/s200/blog+pics+142.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Roll each piece into a rope about 18 inches. Shape the rope into a circle, overlapping about 4 inches from the end. Twist the ends where dough overlaps. Lift the ends across to the opposite edge of the circle. Moisten and press ends to seal. Place on greased cookie sheet. &lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R5J2lC9MfOI/AAAAAAAAAJk/IDkU50PQ6Bs/s1600-h/blog+pics+143.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157314902113418466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R5J2lC9MfOI/AAAAAAAAAJk/IDkU50PQ6Bs/s200/blog+pics+143.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Let rise uncovered until puffy, about 20 minutes.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;In a 3 quart saucepan, bring 2 quarts water and 1/3 cups baking soda to boil. Simmer a few at a time for 10 seconds on each side. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R5J7Ky9MfPI/AAAAAAAAAJs/QYsWE-yefvE/s1600-h/blog+pics+144.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157319948699991282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R5J7Ky9MfPI/AAAAAAAAAJs/QYsWE-yefvE/s200/blog+pics+144.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Place on greased cookie sheets. Brush with egg white. Sprinkle with coarse salt. Bake at 425' for 12 minutes until browned. Remove from cookie sheets and serve with mustard or cheese sauce.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R5J9Jy9MfQI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/ESd7NzHuDS8/s1600-h/blog+pics+145.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5157322130543377666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R5J9Jy9MfQI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/ESd7NzHuDS8/s200/blog+pics+145.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;My kids loved them. They were very happy to find these after a day of skiing. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;On other notes, I'm going to change my blog layout this weekend!&lt;a href="http://flynnards.blogspot.com/"&gt; Leslie &lt;/a&gt;reminded me of this when she asked me how my resolutions were going. I looked at my list and decided now is the time. My sister is in town this weekend, so she is going to help me hopefully tomorrow. I definitely need a change. She's also trying to convince me to show pictures of my family. I'm thinking about it. Check back soon to see my change!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-8781485844501906984?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/8781485844501906984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=8781485844501906984' title='19 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/8781485844501906984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/8781485844501906984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/01/homemade-soft-pretzels.html' title='Homemade Soft Pretzels'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R5JzJy9MfMI/AAAAAAAAAJU/63r8dZZIjvg/s72-c/blog+pics+141.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>19</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-6239986816406197304</id><published>2008-01-17T14:48:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:27.919-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Conversations With a Four-Year-Old</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R5DMcy9MfLI/AAAAAAAAAJM/LJUluCzr6Jk/s1600-h/blog+pics+004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156846368426065074" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R5DMcy9MfLI/AAAAAAAAAJM/LJUluCzr6Jk/s200/blog+pics+004.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I was sitting on the couch with my little girl, just taking some time out of my hectic day to give her my full attention. She usually just calls me mom or mommy, but the last couple of days she's been calling me mama. She says it after almost &lt;em&gt;every&lt;/em&gt; sentence. Only, it sounds more like mawmaw (can you tell the difference). So this is what a conversation with a four-year-old sounds like:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;4 yo: "There's your chick, mawmaw." She pointed to my chin.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "That's not my chick, that's my&lt;em&gt; chin&lt;/em&gt;."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;4 yo: "CHIN. Ha, ha! Chick, chicken head!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then she gives me 5 kisses. Next she wipes them all off.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Did you just wipe off my kiss?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4 yo: "I don't like kisses, only hugs. You have germs, mawmaw."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then she hugs me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4 yo: "I feel like I'm going to cry, mawmaw!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Why, because you love me so much?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4 yo: "Because I missed you, mawmaw!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Me: "But I didn't go anywhere."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;4 yo: "You went upstairs and I didn't know where you were! I said, 'Mawmaw! Where are you?' . You're so pretty!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;She goes from one subject right into another one! The mawmaw thing is so funny. Sometimes you just have to stop and take some time to appreciate it. It all ends too fast.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Riding in the car (again), my conversation with my 7-year-old goes like this:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;7 yo: "Mom, where does the baby come from when you have a baby?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Me: (Oh no!) "What do you mean?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;7 yo: "When you have a baby, where does the baby come out?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Me: "Well... Uh..."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Then my 4 yo interrupted us with something. Thank you!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;About 5 minutes later...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;7 yo: "So mom, where does the baby come out? Does it come out of you belly button?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;Me: "Well, sometimes. What got you thinking about babies? Oh! Did you see on Full House this morning about Uncle Jesse and Aunt Becky having the twins?"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;7 yo: "Yeah."&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br&gt;I didn't think he was mature enough for much more than that. I guess I should be better prepared about what I'm going to say the next time he asks!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now, a conversation with an 11-year-old is&lt;em&gt; not&lt;/em&gt; always so cute. My 11 yo is usually such a good boy. He talks politely (most of the time), gets good grades, and almost never gets in trouble. This is my kid that I worry about the least. So when I went to the mall with him, I got a good understanding of why he drives my 14-year-old crazy sometimes. We go into the mall to get his haircut. He was walking really fast. Innocently, I just thought he wanted to hurry to get it done. I tried to get next to him, but every time I got next to him, he just walked faster ahead of me. Then I realized what he was doing. He was embarrassed to walk next to me! How could this happen? He's suppose to be my easy going kid! I thought he was better than that! Also, how could he be embarrassed of me? I thought I was a cool mom! I consciously try&lt;em&gt; not &lt;/em&gt;do that to my kids. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I remember being embarrassed of my mom, when I was young and vowed I would never do that to my kids (sorry mom). I would never kiss them in front of their friends in the school cafeteria! I'd try not to treat them like babies. I remember how it felt! Now I'm disappointed. So what did I do when my son walked ahead of me? Well I ran up to him and grabbed his arm and made him walk arm in arm with me (OK, I guess I did embarrass him now). I told him if he didn't walk with me then he would just have to hold my hand. That didn't work. He's 140lbs. and just wiggled away from me. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When we got home, my daughter was telling my how I have to pick her up from school every Tuesday and Wednesday from her new school club that she's in, and he said, "What? Mom has to pick you up from school Tuesday and Wednesday because you have detention!". My husband only heard this last part and said, "What? You have detention?". "NO!", I said. Now I can understand how he can annoy my overly sensitive 14-year-old!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It must just be the middle school thing. My daughter went through this when she started sixth grade, too. She thought she was all of a sudden big deal. She also got out of that real fast when I stopped letting her do many things. I always tell her that I will let her do a lot of things with her friends if she tells me who she's with, where they are, exactly what they're doing, and talks nice. If I can trust her 100%, she can do most anything. It's really worked. She even told me recently that she doesn't have to hide anything from me because I let her do whatever she wants. I told her it's because I trust her, "So don't EVER disappoint me!". Once she was walking around outside with her friend and they ran into some boys they knew . (It's not as bad as it sounds. She was pretty close to home and I knew the boys and they were just walking down the street.) When it was time for me to pick her up, her friend asked her, "What are you going to tell your mom?". My daughter told her, "I'm going to tell my mom what we did, because I know my mom won't be mad!". Meanwhile her friend concocted a big story to tell her mom.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Take time out to really listen to the little ones. They say the sweetest things. It all ends so quickly. The teenage years will be there before you know it. On the brightside, those middle school "tough" years pass quickly, too, and they soon become your best friends.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-6239986816406197304?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/6239986816406197304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=6239986816406197304' title='19 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/6239986816406197304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/6239986816406197304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/01/conversations-with-four-year-old.html' title='Conversations With a Four-Year-Old'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R5DMcy9MfLI/AAAAAAAAAJM/LJUluCzr6Jk/s72-c/blog+pics+004.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>19</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-8844014503754584630</id><published>2008-01-16T21:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:28.078-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthdays'/><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Baby!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/barndweller/"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://farm2.static.flickr.com/1127/1441196524_fc8fbf7401.jpg?v=0" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Today was my little baby's birthday. My little baby turned 4. She's definitely the baby since she's the youngest of my four kids. It makes me sad because when my other three kids turned four, I either had a younger child or one in the oven. I'd love to have more kids, but I don't know if I could afford it, or be able to handle the work!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyway, my little baby, I mean big girl had so much fun. She jumped up and down and clapped her hands together just picking out her ice cream cake. We stopped at Toys R Us to get her birthday treat. If you join the birthday club there, they send you a $3.00 off any purchase coupon and a ticket for a birthday treat - a crown, stickers, balloon, and strawberry shaped sunglasses. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R47QYy9MfKI/AAAAAAAAAJE/uhwac-jLRpM/s1600-h/blog+pics.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5156287747799678114" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R47QYy9MfKI/AAAAAAAAAJE/uhwac-jLRpM/s200/blog+pics.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We just had our family over for cake (my parents, aunt, and mother-in-law). She was thrilled over everything she got, Full House season 5, Barbies, princess costumes, dress-up shoes, Strawberry Shortcake dolls, etc. It's so fun to buy for her because she loves everything! I couldn't calm her down! I know it was a happening party, but cool it a little! Thankfully she fell right to sleep. That was an exhausting day. Next I'll be deciding where to send her for preschool, another bittersweet moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Now about my son and the girl who hit him over the head. This morning when we got in the car, he started talking right from where we left off yesterday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mom, guess what? That girl hit me again! I scare her in the halls and she hits me!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well make sure you never tell on her, or she'll tell on you!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The scaring game. He loves to scare the girls, even his own sister and cousins. Usually the girls hate the game. This girl must like it, I hope!&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/4663633665226912327-8844014503754584630?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/8844014503754584630/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=8844014503754584630' title='16 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/8844014503754584630'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/8844014503754584630'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/01/happy-birthday-baby.html' title='Happy Birthday Baby!'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R47QYy9MfKI/AAAAAAAAAJE/uhwac-jLRpM/s72-c/blog+pics.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>16</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-6390298151697729236</id><published>2008-01-15T09:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-15T10:24:13.759-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='spirited child'/><title type='text'>No Kissing the Girls!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://images.replacements.com/images/images5/china/C/lefton_lefton_figurines_no_box_P0000014627S0042T2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://images.replacements.com/images/images5/china/C/lefton_lefton_figurines_no_box_P0000014627S0042T2.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Anyone who knows my 7 year old, whom I often refer to as my spirited child, will attest that he is the most different of my kids. It's hard to even explain it. His favorite thing in the world to do is games, video games, board games, and outside games. He HATES music and singing. If The Wiggles come on TV, he closes his eyes and covers his ears until it's over. He loves me SO much. He'll hug and kiss me all I want, but NOT anyone else. Well, he'll hug Dad, but doesn't want a prickly kiss from him. No one else can kiss him. He covers his eyes if there's kissing on TV. When he found out his uncle was getting married he said, "Oh no! I don't want to see them kiss!". He hates girls. Before school started he told me he hoped there weren't going to be any girls in his class!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, this morning, on the way to school, I had an interesting conversation with him. He was telling me how one of the boys in his class who lives by us had a roller skating birthday party and didn't invite him. "That's OK, though", he said. "He doesn't have to invite everyone." Wow, I was impressed he took it so well. So then I asked him who he &lt;em&gt;does &lt;/em&gt;play with now at recess:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Son: "Uh, we just play a game."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "What do you play?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Son: "Oh, I don't want to talk about it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Why?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Son: "Because I just don't."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Is it something bad?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Son: "Why does everyone think that?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Because why would you not want to tell me?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Son: "Mom, what would you do if I kissed a girl?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: (WHAT?) "Uh, you'd be in trouble! Why? Did you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Son: "No. It's something someone did to me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Did a girl hug you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Son: "No. It's nothing."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me: "Just tell me!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Son: "Well... A girl hit me in the head at recess. We were just playing."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me:  Whew! "Did anyone get in trouble, and did you get hurt?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Son: "No."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By now it was time for him to get out of the car. He never ceases to amaze me. But I still wonder, what was he talking about? He's my different child!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-6390298151697729236?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/6390298151697729236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=6390298151697729236' title='20 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/6390298151697729236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/6390298151697729236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/01/no-kissing-girls.html' title='No Kissing the Girls!'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>20</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-6483064970900511949</id><published>2008-01-13T12:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:29.013-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Disney Princesses!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R4t1Fy9MfHI/AAAAAAAAAIs/xby3ZazCuMA/s1600-h/Disney+Princesses+on+Ice+019.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155342940893903986" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R4t1Fy9MfHI/AAAAAAAAAIs/xby3ZazCuMA/s320/Disney+Princesses+on+Ice+019.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yesterday I went with my mother-in-law and (almost) 4 year old daughter to see Disney's Princesses on Ice. Wow! What a great show. It made me want to visit Disney world again! We sat 3 rows back from the center. The costumes were amazing. My daughter LOVED it. She didn't move a muscle. I'm already talking about going to the ice show next year!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R4t16y9MfII/AAAAAAAAAI0/zHPSwOux_YM/s1600-h/Disney+Princesses+on+Ice+050.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155343851426970754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R4t16y9MfII/AAAAAAAAAI0/zHPSwOux_YM/s320/Disney+Princesses+on+Ice+050.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not wanting to leave my very boyish 7 year old out, I asked him if he wanted to go with us. He replied, "Well... what do they have to eat there?". Let's see, $10 for cotton candy, $6 for a box of popcorn, "You know, you probably wouldn't like it anyway. It's all about princesses." "OK."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R4t2tC9MfJI/AAAAAAAAAI8/PdLWLSFQ3bw/s1600-h/Disney+Princesses+on+Ice+091.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5155344714715397266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R4t2tC9MfJI/AAAAAAAAAI8/PdLWLSFQ3bw/s320/Disney+Princesses+on+Ice+091.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Boys are fun to have, but I'm so glad I have girls to take them to events like this!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I got my first awards today from &lt;a href="http://caffinatedcropper.blogspot.com/"&gt;Amy&lt;/a&gt;! Thank you Amy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first was a You Made My Day Award. I'm supposed to:"Give the award to up to 10 people whose blogs bring you happiness and inspiration and make you feel so happy about blogland! Let them know by posting a comment on their blog so that they can pass it on. Beware! You may get the award several times!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The second was a Spread the Love award:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_bdWKvn3Yu04/R4dYNtL06PI/AAAAAAAABJE/ooxNPQtH9AE/s320/spread_the_love_award.jpg" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm going to give this award next to &lt;a href="http://ourpieceoftheworld.blogspot.com/"&gt;Irene&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://laughingleahloveslillies.blogspot.com/"&gt;Leah&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://laughadaisy.blogspot.com/"&gt;Magirk&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://kittywrinkle.blogspot.com/"&gt;Kitty&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://momto3cubs.blogspot.com/"&gt;Kila&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://bit-of-blarney.blogspot.com/"&gt;GrandmaK&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://renaissancemama.blogspot.com/"&gt;Dawn&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://lifeaccordingtolizzy.blogspot.com/"&gt;Lizzy&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://ladolcevitathesweetlifewiththreesons.blogspot.com/"&gt;Bia&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://therockingpony.blogspot.com/"&gt;Karen&lt;/a&gt;. Enjoy, and share the bloggy love.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-6483064970900511949?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/6483064970900511949/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=6483064970900511949' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/6483064970900511949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/6483064970900511949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/01/disney-princesses.html' title='Disney Princesses!'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R4t1Fy9MfHI/AAAAAAAAAIs/xby3ZazCuMA/s72-c/Disney+Princesses+on+Ice+019.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-5648029489729615274</id><published>2008-01-12T20:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:29.448-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boy Scouts'/><title type='text'>Just Another Busy Weekend</title><content type='html'>Well, this has been such a busy weekend, and tomorrow is still activity filled. I wish I had some time to just read and blog! Last night was the Boy Scouts pine derby race. My son and husband, mainly my husband, worked so hard on their car. They painted it real nice. They added weights to it. They made sure the wheels worked good. There were four kids in my son's group. My son's car came in... fourth place. He was pretty disappointed. They gave ribbons to the 1st, 2nd , and 3rd place winners of his group, so he sat off to the side and watched. Pretty pathetic looking. He said, "Mom, I can't believe I didn't win!" I told him I couldn't either, because I know how hard they worked. The only consolation was that the top 3 winners of the whole place were the kids that my son raced in the first round with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R4l18i9MfFI/AAAAAAAAAIc/sZElb_QZG6I/s1600-h/blog+069.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5154780931538320466" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R4l18i9MfFI/AAAAAAAAAIc/sZElb_QZG6I/s200/blog+069.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This morning was multicultural day at the museum with the Boy Scouts. We took our youngest with us. The only part my son liked was the cave with the slide. He was not at all interested in learning about other cultures.&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;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R4lv2C9MfDI/AAAAAAAAAIM/ZsY1KOyTYfs/s1600-h/blog+073.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5154774222799404082" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R4lv2C9MfDI/AAAAAAAAAIM/ZsY1KOyTYfs/s200/blog+073.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next it was off to basketball. My 7 year old played first. If you didn't read my post about what happened with his team, to make it short, we never got a call from his coach. When I finally got a hold of him, he said our last name was spelled wrong and our phone number wasn't listed. They already had some practices and 3 games. Today was only his second game with the team. He did great today! He wasn't nervous and jumped right it. He even made his first basket! He told me, "Mom, can you believe that I'm so good?" "Uh, sure!" I sure was surprised he made that basket!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R4l0CC9MfEI/AAAAAAAAAIU/eBW4x0idU04/s1600-h/blog+071.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5154778827004345410" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R4l0CC9MfEI/AAAAAAAAAIU/eBW4x0idU04/s200/blog+071.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; After that was my 11 year old's game. Luckily it was right after my other son's game and in the same school. After being sick for a whole week, he was weak. He had no energy. When the team was running down the court, he actually walked. I'm just happy he's feeling better. I know it will take a while to get his strength back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow, after church and our church breakfast, we see Disney's Princesses on Ice! I'm pretty excited. I know my 3 year old will just love it. I'm going to take pictures. Has anyone else seen it? I can't believe, though, that I kind of can't wait for this weekend to be over. I need some time!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-5648029489729615274?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/5648029489729615274/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=5648029489729615274' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/5648029489729615274'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/5648029489729615274'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/01/just-another-busy-weekend.html' title='Just Another Busy Weekend'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R4l18i9MfFI/AAAAAAAAAIc/sZElb_QZG6I/s72-c/blog+069.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-8219382018033291833</id><published>2008-01-11T11:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-11T11:34:10.514-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I Want To Go To School, Mom!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://densonhomehealth.com/images/sick%20child%201.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://densonhomehealth.com/images/sick%20child%201.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My 11 year old is actually asking me if he can go to school. I never thought I'd see the day! I kept him home on Monday and Tuesday to celebrate the Russian Christmas, but he got sick on Monday, so he would have been home anyway. At least we have the excuse of Christmas that won't count against his absences. Today is Friday. He is still sick. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Son had a really high fever. I don't know how high it actually got because he stayed at my mom's house at Christmas, but when he came home it was 103.7. You know how when you're really sick and then you start to feel better, you think you feel SO much better? Well, last night he told me he thought his fever was gone and he could go to school today. I took his temp. - 102.7! He couldn't believe it! "The thermometer must be broken!", he replied. I took my daughter's temp. just to make sure. Nope, her temp. was normal. It wasn't broken. The school rule is your temp. has to be below 100 for 24 hours.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I got all of my son's work from school, so that won't be a problem. At least now he has all weekend to catch up on his work and get all better. Oh, then I realized! TONIGHT is the school dance! So that's why you want to go to school! Actually I wouldn't mind if he went if his temp was down, but I don't think the school would allow it. Sorry! I just don't think it would be fair to everyone at school to send him in. Maybe next time.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;It seems like so many blogs that I've been reading, everyone is talking about their kids or themselves being sick! Everyone in my house has been sick. My husband and I both have terrible colds right now. Is there anyone who has managed to stay healthy?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-8219382018033291833?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/8219382018033291833/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=8219382018033291833' title='19 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/8219382018033291833'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/8219382018033291833'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/01/i-want-to-go-to-school-mom.html' title='I Want To Go To School, Mom!'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>19</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-5246186086403843963</id><published>2008-01-09T22:30:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:29.912-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='spirited child'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boy Scouts'/><title type='text'>Pinewood Derby</title><content type='html'>My 7 year old, the spirited child, announced this year that he wanted to join the Boy Scouts. "Are you sure?", we kept asking him. "Yes!", he told us. "But you have to go to meetings all the time and do good deeds and help your community!" "Yes!", he responded over and over again. My husband and I were not thrilled with another activity to add to our schedule. My son is not one for sitting still and listening to meetings. He'd rather be playing video games, watching TV, or playing a game of Kick the Can or baseball, not doing good deeds for others. We finally decided to let him try it. The worst that could happen would be that he hates it and quits. We also decided it might even be good for him (if he would actually do what they wanted him to do).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We bought my son the uniform (and warned him beforehand that he'd have to wear one) and he loved it! They told him he had to read the book. He wanted to stay up late with dad reading it! They told him how to earn his badges. He's so proud of himself whenever he earns a new one! Well, I guess he showed us! He loves the Boy Scouts. Good for you son!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I grew up with just one sister. I did the Brownies and Girl Scout thing, but never knew much about Boy Scouts. My husband said they have to make a car for the Pinewood Derby race and race his car. Isn't that dangerous? Isn't that expensive to make? Isn't that HARD to make. Well, it was only a little hard to make:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R4WTAS9MfBI/AAAAAAAAAH8/AyK6IKDJ-Ks/s1600-h/blog+067.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5153686981893192722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R4WTAS9MfBI/AAAAAAAAAH8/AyK6IKDJ-Ks/s320/blog+067.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Oh! Is that what you meant? I guess I was thinking SOAP box derby? Isn't that where you make a big car out of a box and actually ride in it? OK. I guess it's not very dangerous. Shows how little I know about the boy scouts! So far he recycled newspapers to earn money for his scouts, visited a huge pumpkin farm, saw a presentation from a real Indian tribe member, and this weekend we will visit the children's museum to learn about multicultural day. It's been a great thing for my "spirited child". &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Now this is funny. I have a friend who has a son in my son's class. He asked her is he could be in the Boy Scouts, too. "No!", she said. "Why not?, asked her son. "Because I don't like the boy scouts." "Why don't you like the Boy Scouts?", I asked her. "Because I don't like them." OK? You don't like the Boy Scouts? She didn't say something like she didn't think her son would like it, or she just didn't have the time for it. How can you not like a group that is trying to teach kids how to be good citizens? Oh well. That's my friend for you.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-5246186086403843963?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/5246186086403843963/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=5246186086403843963' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/5246186086403843963'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/5246186086403843963'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/01/pinewood-derby.html' title='Pinewood Derby'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R4WTAS9MfBI/AAAAAAAAAH8/AyK6IKDJ-Ks/s72-c/blog+067.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-281325528338124228</id><published>2008-01-08T21:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-19T18:01:36.459-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='books'/><title type='text'>Book Meme</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/41IbQnHMH3L._AA240_.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/41IbQnHMH3L._AA240_.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I was tagged by GrandmaK at &lt;a href="http://bit-of-blarney.blogspot.com/"&gt;A Bit of the Blarney&lt;/a&gt; for a book meme. I think I have about 3 meme's to still complete, so I figured I better get busy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;*1. &lt;strong&gt;One book that changed my life:&lt;/strong&gt; A Travel Guide to Heaven. My sister gave this to me to read and it was very uplifting. It makes you think about our ultimate goal, getting to heaven. He uses quotes from the Bible to explain what we know about what heaven will be like. It 's very exciting.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;*2. &lt;strong&gt;One book that you have read more than once&lt;/strong&gt;: All the What to Expect books. I read them all 4 times for my 4 kids.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;*3. &lt;strong&gt;One book that you want on a desert island&lt;/strong&gt;: I'd have to say the same as GrandmaK - The Holy Bible.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;*4. &lt;strong&gt;One book that made me laugh&lt;/strong&gt;: I guess I don't read many funny books, but the closest to that would have to be Growing Up Brady. I hate to admit I have a Brady fascination. That was a pretty funny book.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;*5. &lt;strong&gt;One book that made me cry&lt;/strong&gt;: Chicken Soup for the Mother's Soul. I hated the sad stories, but loved the happy ones. I also have to say Let's Roll. You remember that one.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;*6. &lt;strong&gt;One book I wish had been written&lt;/strong&gt;: Hm. I guess I can't think of any!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;*7. &lt;strong&gt;One book I wish had not been written&lt;/strong&gt;: The Chamber by John Grisham. You keep reading the book thinking he'll somehow escape going to the chamber, but he doesn't. It's too sad.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;*8. &lt;strong&gt;One book I am currently reading&lt;/strong&gt;: Harry Potter. I can't get enough of them.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;*9. &lt;strong&gt;One book I've been meaning to read&lt;/strong&gt;: The Appeal by John Grisham! I'm so excited he has a new courtroom battle book coming out on January 29! John Grisham is my absolute favorite author. I've read every one of his books (actually except Playing for Pizzas). My husbands uncle gave me a gift certificate to Border's for Christmas so I'm going to buy it the day it comes out. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I think I will tag &lt;a href="http://ourpieceoftheworld.blogspot.com/"&gt;Irene&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://therockingpony.blogspot.com/"&gt;Karen&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://mom.buttermouth.com/"&gt;Ohmommy&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://thegoodflea.blogspot.com/"&gt;Flea&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://caffinatedcropper.blogspot.com/"&gt;Amy&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://4girls4me.blogspot.com/"&gt;Steph&lt;/a&gt;, and &lt;a href="http://www.mom2dbmk.com/my_weblog/"&gt;Tina&lt;/a&gt;. Have Fun! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-281325528338124228?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/281325528338124228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=281325528338124228' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/281325528338124228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/281325528338124228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/01/book-meme.html' title='Book Meme'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-4766970787250210558</id><published>2008-01-07T23:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:30.071-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Merry Christmas?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R4L6Ei9MfAI/AAAAAAAAAH0/avyXW8AYB8Q/s1600-h/blog+047.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152955879675165698" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R4L6Ei9MfAI/AAAAAAAAAH0/avyXW8AYB8Q/s200/blog+047.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Yes, Merry Christmas. Today we celebrated the Russian Christmas. Our church follows the old Julian calendar, in which December 25 falls on January 7. I kept the kids home from school today and will again tomorrow. I was surprised that there were two other kids at my daughter's school who were celebrating it, too. It's a very busy, yet very fun day for us. Though we exchange our presents on December 25, my kids said they enjoy today even more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We began the celebration by going to church last night. Only the older two came with me because it started at 7 and didn't end until close to midnight. Then we went to my mom's to eat a big breakfast of ham, sausage, potato salad, cabbage soup, and wine. The older two slept at my mom's since my younger cousin's were in town staying there, too. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;This morning we headed back to my mom's. My sister and her family came. We went to church again for a short service at 5. I decided to bring my 3 year old, since I haven't been bringing her to church very much lately. I soon remembered why I don't! I kid you not, about TWO seconds after it started, she started to cry because she wanted to stand in the front with her cousin. I had to take her out to the foyer with my husband for the rest of the service. After church we headed back to my mom's for a big party with more people and tons of great food. The kids ran around like crazy kids, having so much fun. I stuffed myself like a pig. My older two are sleeping over there again since my cousins are still there tonight. The only downside was my 11 year old got sick. He didn't want to miss out on anything, but he's still staying at my mom's, lying on the couch with a fever.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Tomorrow my cousins will leave to go back home. The kids will be sad. We won't see them until Russian Easter when the festivities will begin again. Then our life will get back to normal. I will go jogging again. It was a very fun day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-4766970787250210558?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/4766970787250210558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=4766970787250210558' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/4766970787250210558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/4766970787250210558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/01/merry-christmas.html' title='Merry Christmas?'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R4L6Ei9MfAI/AAAAAAAAAH0/avyXW8AYB8Q/s72-c/blog+047.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-2644053704563221769</id><published>2008-01-06T16:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-06T17:22:29.748-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='running'/><title type='text'>Becoming a Runner</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/jordanfischer/51077050/"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/26/51077050_eb2f169ba2.jpg?v=0" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I actually went running today! It's been so long, weeks! I was afraid that I lost all my stamina. I really had to push myself to go. I've had too many excuses lately, getting ready for Christmas, too cold, too tired. Well today was also a busy day, but isn't every day? It was even pretty warm out, about 45'. It was pretty hard, but I did it. I didn't want to hurt myself, so I went for a long walk and ran part of the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just starting running last summer. I use to think I couldn't run because I never did before. I feel like I'm starting to get old. I'm 37. I want fight it every step of the way, and just grow old gracefully. I learned that you're almost never too old to run. Here's how I did it. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've always been a walker. I love to go on really long walks. I just started to add in a little running. First I would start out with a fast walk to warm up. Then I would just run from one corner to the next. I would do that just a few times during my walk. Two of my kids took up cross country in the fall, so I started to run with them a little, too. They pushed me to go even farther. Every time I went out (only about 3 times a week), I would go a little farther. I worked up to about a mile. I'm not a marathon runner. I don't want to be a marathon runner. I just want to be ABLE to run and to feel better about myself. One day I sat down on the couch and said, "Oh my gosh! Look at my thigh! It's so much tighter!" I love how I feel so much stronger, from my ankles all the way up. When I first go out, I start to feel tired. Then after I get over that hump and just push myself, I get a burst of energy and feel good. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I get home from running, I feel so good. It keeps me motivated to eat right and drink more water. After I get back into my routine again, I actually WANT to go running. I don't buy fancy running clothes or read Runner's World, but I like to say that running is one of my interests. I'm proud of myself for learning to do it at my age. So, am I motivating anyone? Are you getting your running shoes on yet?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-2644053704563221769?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/2644053704563221769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=2644053704563221769' title='22 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/2644053704563221769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/2644053704563221769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/01/becoming-runner.html' title='Becoming a Runner'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>22</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-1168819455766576654</id><published>2008-01-05T09:36:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:30.270-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='basketball'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ranjit/"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152003157144665058" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R3-Xky9Me-I/AAAAAAAAAHk/_HqKUUKTxs4/s200/blog+062.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I'm learning to play the guitar! Guitar Hero, that is. I told my kids I was not going to buy the game for them. I couldn't understand why they would want such an expensive game anyway. So, the kids sold some of their old games and put their money together and bought it themselves. I'm SO glad they did! Boy is it fun! At first I thought it was a real guitar, and that I would never be able to play the game. It's really not that hard. After just a couple tries I could play it, even on medium, I might ad! I never knew I had it in me. Now, The Scorpions were never my favorite, but after playing Rock You Like a Hurricane, I'm beginning to enjoy it! It's kind of like like the saying you just have to give something a try and be open minded. I wish we had two guitars so we could play two players at the same time. That's me playing the game at 11:30 last night. I was so tired that I even had a headache. I hope I can find time to play again today!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/ranjit/"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5152010316855147506" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R3-eFi9Me_I/AAAAAAAAAHs/seFEBf7ZDp0/s200/bballl.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Well, today should be an interesting day. My 7 year old has his first basketball game, and it's been a long haul getting there. I signed both of my sons up at the same time, on one paper. I wrote one check. They went to tryouts and the coaches said they would call them and tell us when the first practice would be. Well we waited a long time. My husband said there were tons of kids in the 7 year old group trying out and that the coach said it would be a long time before he called us. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Well, after a long time we still didn't get a call. My older son got his call and already started practices and had a few games. My husband assured me, don't worry, he said it would be a while before they called. I figured they must be having two groups of teams playing since there were so many kids this year. I decided to ask my neighbor who's son is in my son's age group. I asked her if she heard from her basketball coach yet. She told me she had but they only had one practice and three games so far. ONLY?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Well, I started to make some calls. I called the basketball commissioner's cell phone. No answer. I left him a message to call me back. The weekend was coming up and I didn't want my son to miss another game! I called him again the next day, left another message. I called him back a few days later. He finally answered but it was very loud wherever he was. He told me he'd find out who the coach was and call me back. Now the weekend was over and my son had probably missed another game! I called him back, (you know the drill) no answer, left a message. A few days later, still no call back. Frustration is building. Steam would start to come out of my ears every time I thought about it! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;OK, now I'm starting to act like a private investigator. I got on the website to see who else I could call. I called my neighbor, who's also a coach, and asked him who I could call. He said the commissioner. But he doesn't return calls! How many times do I have to call him! What if I call someone else who's name is listed on the website? My neighbor said they'll just tell me to call the commissioner. All right, I called the coach, again. (Same thing.)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Well, I decided to call some other names. I looked up everyone's name in the phone book. The first guy, not home. The second guy, BINGO! He had a listing of all the coaches and their phone numbers! He gave me our coaches name and number. I called the coach and he actually answered. He said he didn't have our phone number listed and our last name was spelled wrong. I know I wrote our number down at sign ups and I know I didn't spell our last name wrong! He said he called the commissioner and he told him he had no information about us, so the commissioner said they'll just have to wait for us to call them. Wait for us to call them! Didn't he tell him I called him SIX times! No. My husband coaches baseball in this organization, too. He told me they only had two practices and three games so far. ONLY? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So anyway, here's where we're at now. My son is going to his 1rst game today. He's never met the coach before. He doesn't know anyone on his team. He doesn't have the team shirt. He's never played basketball before so he doesn't know ANYTHING at all. He's played in our driveway, can dribble and shoot. He doesn't know positions, how to do a layup, how to play with two hoops, how to guard, where to stand, the rules, NOTHING! He's starting to panic. We're going to try to work with him a little today, but there's snow on the driveway, so we'll have to work in the garage or something. Should be an interesting game! I hope he's not too disappointed. At the very least, we ARE getting reimbursed our money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-1168819455766576654?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/1168819455766576654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=1168819455766576654' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/1168819455766576654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/1168819455766576654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/01/im-learning-to-play-guitar-guitar-hero.html' title=''/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R3-Xky9Me-I/AAAAAAAAAHk/_HqKUUKTxs4/s72-c/blog+062.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-3291926214378903787</id><published>2008-01-04T09:27:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-04T10:40:42.521-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Snowboarding for Less</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.andes.org.uk/skiing-holidays/snowboarding-llaima.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.andes.org.uk/skiing-holidays/snowboarding-llaima.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Yesterday was the first day of ski club for my 11 and 14 year old. My husband met them there after work and went skiing himself. This was my daughter's first time on a snowboard and my son and husband were very impressed with her! I was so happy for them to go out together. I don't know what I was thinking, though. When no one came home from school and work, I missed them! I was home with the little kids while they were out snowboarding, having a great time? I couldn't even remember why I was mad at them yesterday! I was just happy no one got hurt. That's my biggest worry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Skiing can be very expensive. It's usually not a sport for someone on a tight budget, like us. Here's how we did it. First of all, let's just say, very generous grandma. She bought my son his snowboard for his Christmas present. Then she said she felt bad because she couldn't get him anything else. Puleeze! Don't feel bad! You're TOO generous! Now, if you don't have the generous grandma around, this is what my husband did! He had the skis, but needed boots. He searched Dick's, the swap and ski at the ski resort, Amazon (one of my favorite places), and EBay. Every place wanted at least $100 for used boots! A few weeks ago he went to the resort to pick up my son from snowboarding. Up on a high shelf they had used rental boots for sale. Get this, $10! They were the same ones that they were selling on Amazon, and they were in great shape! He said he felt like buying 10 pairs! What a deal!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next, my mom and sister and I were going to buy him a buy 4 get 1 free lift pass for a Christmas present. After looking over their website carefully, I noticed they have a college discount. My husband takes 1 class a semester at the local college and is therefore considered a college student. The student price is only $19! Way cheaper than the buy 4 get 1 free! So, we just got my husband a gift card for the resort to pay for some of the $19 passes! Now, when I went to buy the card at the kiosk in the mall, the student price wasn't even advertised on their brochure. The girl working there didn't even know it existed! I had her call the resort to make sure I was right, and I was right!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyway, last night I got the two little ones to bed on time. While I was waiting for the rest of the gang to come home, I decided to watch Celebrity Apprentice. I usually don't like the Celebrity anything, but I loved it! I think this is going to be my favorite season. I like knowing these people from the start, and seeing who can do what. Stephen Baldwin is so funny. Wasn't he the one on Celebrity Mole? He made the whole show! I loved the hot dog sale. My husband said, "You wouldn't buy a hot dog for $100, would you?". I tried to explain to him that it was for charity and you get to buy it from a celebrity, but he didn't get it. (Actually, I still wouldn't have bought it.) I can't believe how many New Yorker's walk around with $100 in their pockets! I can't wait to see next week's show.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-3291926214378903787?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/3291926214378903787/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=3291926214378903787' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/3291926214378903787'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/3291926214378903787'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/01/snowboarding-for-less.html' title='Snowboarding for Less'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-523566309452590926</id><published>2008-01-03T09:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-04T09:49:23.656-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kids chores'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='laundry'/><title type='text'>Kids and Chores</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.berenstainbears.com/graphics/newtitles/trouble_with_chores.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.berenstainbears.com/graphics/newtitles/trouble_with_chores.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Even though I stay home during the day, I can't seem to keep up with all the work that needs to be done. The laundry, as I've said before, is a never ending pile. There's always a room that needs to be cleaned. Clutter has got to be my worst pet peeve. Anyone who has kids in school knows what "the pile" is. I try to sort through it as soon as it's there, but it's often easier said than done. I'm usually interrupted while doing it at least 10 times. &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I'm constantly telling my kids (even daddy kid) that they HAVE to clean up after themselves. I honestly don't mind doing the cooking, cleaning, and laundry when I don't have to stop and pick up first. Once I told them that maybe we just won't pick up after ourselves anymore and I'll randomly choose one person to go around the house picking up after all 6 of us. "No way!", they say. "Well what do you think I do every day!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Each kid has different chores to do. My 14 year old empties the dishwasher on the days there is no school, cleans up the kitchen after dinner, irons, feeds the cat, and babysits whenever I need her. My 11 year old picks up the toys at the end of the day, clears the table after dinner, takes out the garbage, brings the garbage cans in on trash day, and shovels the sidewalk. My youngest two just are suppose to do any chore that I give them. All the kids are supposed to make their beds every morning and clean up after themselves. This morning no one's bed was made. Their wet towels are laying on the floor. There are boots and pants on the floor by the door. The kitchen had food on the floor and around the sink. There's clutter everywhere. Can you tell I'm upset here? Not only that, they go to ski club right from school today, so they won't be home until late!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;OK. They're in trouble now. I think it's time to start deducting from their allowance. The punishment for leaving towels on the floor is having to carry up ALL the laundry. No one's going anywhere tomorrow until everything is done! I guess I'll just stay home and clean all day, after I take my son his ski equipment to school. Or maybe not!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-523566309452590926?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/523566309452590926/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=523566309452590926' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/523566309452590926'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/523566309452590926'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/01/kids-and-chores.html' title='Kids and Chores'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-307140978685945295</id><published>2008-01-01T22:56:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-01-02T10:44:51.451-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memes'/><title type='text'>Birth Month Meme</title><content type='html'>I just got tagged. &lt;a href="http://www.mom2dbmk.com/"&gt;Tina&lt;/a&gt; from tagged me for a meme about birth month characteristics. The rules are: copy and paste the 12 months with their characteristics below, highlight the characteristics for my birth month, and make a comment next to each one about how it fits me (either serious or funny). Then tag 12 people to do this. My birthday is July 25, so...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;July is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Fun to be with. &lt;/strong&gt;Well I &lt;em&gt;think&lt;/em&gt; I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Secretive. &lt;/strong&gt;I am especially when I'm keeping a secret.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Difficult to fathom and to be understood.&lt;/strong&gt; You mean like when I call everyone in the house by the wrong name almost EVERY time?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Quiet unless excited or tensed.&lt;/strong&gt; Ohh, not really. I think I'm always excited, even while sleeping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Takes pride in oneself. &lt;/strong&gt;Well I care about how I look, care how I act, but don't always care for &lt;em&gt;how&lt;/em&gt; I look or &lt;em&gt;how &lt;/em&gt;I acted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Has reputation. &lt;/strong&gt;Sure I do! A good one!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Easily consoled. &lt;/strong&gt;I guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Honest.&lt;/strong&gt; Always! Except when I tell my 7 year old how lucky he is to get to go to school, or when I tell my 3 year old whatever she wants to hear at night, just to get her to go to sleep, or when I ... OK, almost always.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Concerned about people's feelings.&lt;/strong&gt; OK, definitely on this one. Sometimes this can be a weakness of mine. I feel sorry for EVERYONE when they're upset. (I mean a little too much.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Tactful. &lt;/strong&gt;I try to be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Friendly.&lt;/strong&gt; This one I've learned just since I got married. In high school, I was probably the most unfriendly person there. I didn't think anyone would want to talk to me. Now my husband thinks I'm overly friendly. I talk to people in every line I'm in and everywhere I go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Approachable.&lt;/strong&gt; Doesn't this go hand in hand with friendly? Yeah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Emotional, temperamental, and unpredictable. &lt;/strong&gt;I have to say yes again. I cry easily, get scared pretty easily, get mad, I mean, &lt;em&gt;try&lt;/em&gt; not to get mad too easily. What can I say? I have four kids!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Moody and easily hurt.&lt;/strong&gt; Sure. I guess I can take things too personally sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Witty and sparkly. &lt;/strong&gt;Huh, what did you say? Uh, sure am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Not revengeful.&lt;/strong&gt; I don't think so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Forgiving but never forgets. &lt;/strong&gt;Yes. Not always, though. Only when it's too hard to forget. That's happened a few times. How can you forget something really bad that someone did to you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Dislikes nonsensical and unnecessary things. &lt;/strong&gt;Pretty much. I really hate dusk catchers!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Guides others physically and mentally. &lt;/strong&gt;Well of course! I'm Mommy of 4!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sensitive and forms impressions carefully. &lt;/strong&gt;Yes, but is that always a good thing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Caring and loving. &lt;/strong&gt;Definitely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Treats others equally.&lt;/strong&gt; Not at all, especially with my kids. I treat them fairly, but they're all so different that I have to talk to them in different tones and punish differently for what works the best with each one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Strong sense of sympathy. &lt;/strong&gt;Yes, my husband says too much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Wary and sharp.&lt;/strong&gt; Wary yes, not always sharp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Judges people through observations. &lt;/strong&gt;Yes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hardworking. &lt;/strong&gt;Of course, I'm a stay at home mom!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;No difficulties in studying. &lt;/strong&gt;Well I don't study now, but I guess I did when I was in school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Loves to be alone. &lt;/strong&gt;I don't know what that is!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Always broods about the past and the old friends. &lt;/strong&gt;I guess the past has effected me. some of my bad experiences when I was younger still haunt me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Likes to be quiet. &lt;/strong&gt;Sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Homely person. &lt;/strong&gt;No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Waits for friends. &lt;/strong&gt;No?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Never looks for friends. &lt;/strong&gt;No. I'm always looking for new blogging friends!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Not aggressive unless provoked. &lt;/strong&gt;It takes a lot for me to crack.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Prone to having stomach and dieting problems. &lt;/strong&gt;Yeah, that's it! I not very good at dieting because I have stomach problems. My stomach's always hungry!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Loves to be loved. &lt;/strong&gt;Of course, who doesn't?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Easily hurt but takes long to recover. &lt;/strong&gt;That's a hard one. I guess it depends on the circumstances.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK. I think I'll tag &lt;a href="http://www.ontheupside.info/"&gt;Kellan&lt;/a&gt; (she always has the funniest things to say), &lt;a href="http://ladolcevitathesweetlifewiththreesons.blogspot.com/"&gt;Bia&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://murryssnapshots.blogspot.com/"&gt;Mary&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://therockingpony.blogspot.com/"&gt;Karen&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://frumpmama.blogspot.com/"&gt;Becky&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://4girls4me.blogspot.com/"&gt;Steph&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://adayinthelifeofcindy.blogspot.com/"&gt;Cindy&lt;/a&gt;, and a new one, &lt;a href="http://laughingleahloveslillies.blogspot.com/"&gt;Leah&lt;/a&gt;. Sorry, I only tagged eight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;This was fun(and long), and I can't wait to hear everyone else's answers!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JANUARY: Stubborn and hard-hearted. Ambitious and serious. Loves to teach and be taught. Always looking at people’s flaws and weaknesses. Likes to criticize. Hardworking and productive. Smart, neat and organized. Sensitive and has deep thoughts. Knows how to make others happy. Quiet unless excited or tensed. Rather reserved. Highly attentive. Resistant to illnesses but prone to colds. Romantic but has difficulties expressing love. Loves children. Loyal. Has great social abilities yet easily jealous. Very stubborn and money cautious.&lt;br /&gt;FEBRUARY: Abstract thoughts. Loves reality and abstract. Intelligent and clever. Changing personality. Attractive. Sexy. Temperamental. Quiet, shy and humble. Honest and loyal. Determined to reach goals. Loves freedom. Rebellious when restricted. Loves aggressiveness. Too sensitive and easily hurt. Gets angry really easily but does not show it. Dislikes unnecessary things. Loves making friends but rarely shows it. Daring and stubborn. Ambitious. Realizes dreams and hopes. Sharp. Loves entertainment and leisure. Romantic on the inside not outside. Superstitious and ludicrous. Spendthrift. Tries to learn to show emotions.&lt;br /&gt;MARCH: Attractive personality. Sexy. Affectionate. Shy and reserved. Secretive. Naturally honest, generous and sympathetic. Loves peace and serenity. Sensitive to others. Loves to serve others. Easily angered. Trustworthy. Appreciative and returns kindness. Observant and assesses others. Revengeful. Loves to dream and fantasize. Loves traveling. Loves attention. Hasty decisions in choosing partners. Loves home decors. Musically talented. Loves special things. Moody.&lt;br /&gt;APRIL: Active and dynamic. Decisive and hasty but tends to regret. Attractive and affectionate to oneself. Strong mentality. Loves attention. Diplomatic. Consoling, friendly and solves people’s problems. Brave and fearless. Adventurous. Loving and caring. Suave and generous. Emotional. Aggressive. Hasty. Good memory. Moving. Motivates oneself and others. Sickness usually of the head and chest. Sexy in a way that only their lover can see.&lt;br /&gt;MAY: Stubborn and hard-hearted. Strong-willed and highly motivated. Sharp thoughts. Easily angered. Attracts others and loves attention. Deep feelings. Beautiful physically and mentally. Firm Standpoint. Needs no motivation. Easily consoled. Systematic (left brain). Loves to dream. Strong clairvoyance. Understanding. Sickness usually in the ear and neck. Good imagination. Good physical. Weak breathing. Loves literature and the arts. Loves traveling. Dislike being at home. Restless. Not having many children. Hardworking. High spirited. Spendthrift.&lt;br /&gt;JUNE: Thinks far with vision. Easily influenced by kindness. Polite and soft-spoken. Having ideas. Sensitive. Active mind. Hesitating, tends to delay. Choosy and always wants the best. Temperamental. Funny and humorous. Loves to joke. Good debating skills. Talkative. Daydreamer. Friendly. Knows how to make friends. Able to show character. Easily hurt. Prone to getting colds. Loves to dress up. Easily bored. Fussy. Seldom shows emotions. Takes time to recover when hurt. Brand conscious. Executive. Stubborn.&lt;br /&gt;JULY: Fun to be with. Secretive. Difficult to fathom and to be understood. Quiet unless excited or tensed. Takes pride in oneself. Has reputation. Easily consoled. Honest. Concerned about people’s feelings. Tactful. Friendly. Approachable. Emotional temperamental and unpredictable. Moody and easily hurt. Witty and sparkly. Not revengeful. Forgiving but never forgets. Dislikes nonsensical and unnecessary things. Guides others physically and mentally. Sensitive and forms impressions carefully. Caring and loving. Treats others equally. Strong sense of sympathy. Wary and sharp. Judges people through observations. Hardworking. No difficulties in studying. Loves to be alone. Always broods about the past and the old friends. Likes to be quiet. Homely person. Waits for friends. Never looks for friends. Not aggressive unless provoked. Prone to having stomach and dieting problems. Loves to be loved. Easily hurt but takes long to recover.&lt;br /&gt;AUGUST: Loves to joke. Attractive. Suave and caring. Brave and fearless. Firm and has leadership qualities. Knows how to console others. Too generous and egoistic. Takes high pride in oneself. Thirsty for praises. Extraordinary spirit. Easily angered. Angry when provoked. Easily jealous. Observant. Careful and cautious. Thinks quickly. Independent thoughts. Loves to lead and to be led. Loves to dream. Talented in the arts, music and defense. Sensitive but not petty. Poor resistance against illnesses. Learns to relax. Hasty and trusty. Romantic. Loving and caring. Loves to make friends.&lt;br /&gt;SEPTEMBER: Suave and compromising. Careful, cautious and organized. Likes to point out people’s mistakes. Likes to criticize. Stubborn. Quiet but able to talk well. Calm and cool. Kind and sympathetic. Concerned and detailed. Loyal but not always honest. Does work well. Very confident. Sensitive. Good memory. Clever and knowledgeable. Loves to look for information. Must control oneself when criticizing. Able to motivate oneself. Understanding. Fun to be around. Secretive. Loves leisure and traveling. Hardly shows emotions. Tends to bottle up feelings. Very choosy, especially in relationships. Systematic.&lt;br /&gt;OCTOBER: Loves to chat. Loves those who loves them. Loves to take things at the center. Inner and physical beauty. Lies but doesn’t pretend. Gets angry often. Treats friends importantly. Always making friends. Easily hurt but recovers easily. Daydreamer. Opinionated. Does not care of what others think. Emotional. Decisive. Strong clairvoyance. Loves to travel, the arts and literature. Touchy and easily jealous. Concerned. Loves outdoors. Just and fair. Spendthrift. Easily influenced. Easily loses confidence. Loves children.&lt;br /&gt;NOVEMBER: Has a lot of ideas. Difficult to fathom. Thinks forward. Unique and brilliant. Extraordinary ideas. Sharp thinking. Fine and strong clairvoyance. Can become good doctors. Dynamic in personality. Secretive. Inquisitive. Knows how to dig secrets. Always thinking. Less talkative but amiable. Brave and generous. Patient. Stubborn and hard-hearted. If there is a will, there is a way. Determined. Never give up. Hardly becomes angry unless provoked. Loves to be alone. Thinks differently from others. Sharp-minded. Motivates oneself. Does not appreciate praises. High-spirited. Well-built and tough. Deep love and emotions. Romantic. Uncertain in relationships. Homely. Hardworking. High abilities. Trustworthy. Honest and keeps secrets. Not able to control emotions. Unpredictable.&lt;br /&gt;DECEMBER: Loyal and generous. Sexy. Patriotic. Active in games and interactions. Impatient and hasty. Ambitious. Influential in organizations. Fun to be with. Loves to socialize. Loves praises. Loves attention. Loves to be loved. Honest and trustworthy. Not pretending. Short tempered. Changing personality. Not egotistic. Take high pride in oneself. Hates restrictions. Loves to joke. Good sense of humor. Logical. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-307140978685945295?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/307140978685945295/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=307140978685945295' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/307140978685945295'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/307140978685945295'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/01/birth-month-meme.html' title='Birth Month Meme'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-2263894278964396599</id><published>2008-01-01T10:20:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-02-14T10:08:20.412-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy New Years!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/infliximab/"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/166/357052138_1622119f3a_m.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Will it be a Happy New Years? I sure hope so. I'm probably the only one who doesn't embrace the new year with hope and excitement. I always get a sick little feeling inside of me when I think of it. I think of all the sad things that happened last year,  all the people I know that were diagnosed with diseases. What is going to happen this year? Will there be any natural disasters?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I know, I know, I shouldn't even think this way. We're not supposed to think this way. We should be happy and think of the wonderful things that could and will happen. I really need to work on this. My brother-in-law just announced he's getting married. Maybe someone I know will have a baby. My daughter will start high school this year and I think she will do great there. My youngest will start preschool and she can't wait to go. (These last two are also on the negative list.)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I usually don't have a New Year's resolution. This year I an going to just make a short list of some of things I want to accomplish. I need to do this every once in a while. New Year's is a good time to reflect on what changes I want to make each year. So here are a few:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lose weight&lt;/strong&gt;. Like everyone else in the world. I need to get back on track a little better. I want to get in a little exercise every day. I need to evaluate my eating and eat better. I want to lose at least 5 pounds right away, then maybe work on a few more after that. Last year I stepped on the scale and realized I had gained 10 pounds. I decided I had to lose weight and fast so I watched every single thing I ate until I lost it. I only drank water for the first week or so and didn't eat one bite of anything between meals. It worked. My weight is only up a couple pounds since then, but I know I can do it as I did before.I just read some tips on &lt;a href="http://health.msn.com/weight-loss/lose-10-pounds/articlepage.aspx?cp-documentid=100150928&amp;amp;GT1=10835"&gt;MSN&lt;/a&gt; on losing weight to get me motivated.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;See old friends&lt;/strong&gt;. I make out Christmas cards to all my old friends, but I really need to call them more. I need to make plans to go out to lunch with them (a low fat lunch, of course). I get caught up in what needs to get done around the house and the kids. I miss a lot of my old friends.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Read more books&lt;/strong&gt;. I don't read as much as I want to. I stay up too late at night blogging! I actually love to read while I ride my exercise bike, so I'm going to make sure I do more of that. I have a bunch of books I want to read this year.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Make a new layout for my blog&lt;/strong&gt;. I'm getting bored with how my blog looks. I'm going to put some kind of pictures on it. I just need to figure out exactly what I want, then actually do it.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Learn to take better pictures&lt;/strong&gt;. This is so time consuming for me, but I'm going to find a way to fit it in. I want to learn how to use every function on my camera (I have to find my book for this), and learn more photography tips. I also need to organize all my pictures I have. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Now that I have a list of at least some of things I want to accomplish this year written in my blog, I can go back to it halfway through the year and remind myself of it. I know if I don't even make a list, there will be even less of a chance that I'll do these things. What are some of the things you want to do this year?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-2263894278964396599?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/2263894278964396599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=2263894278964396599' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/2263894278964396599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/2263894278964396599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2008/01/happy-new-years.html' title='Happy New Years!'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/166/357052138_1622119f3a_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-8861227806895763491</id><published>2007-12-31T09:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-31T17:06:18.025-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='7 random things about myself'/><title type='text'>7 Random Things About Myself</title><content type='html'>I was tagged by Irene at &lt;a href="http://ourpieceoftheworld.blogspot.com/"&gt;Our Little Piece of the World&lt;/a&gt; to tell 7 random things about myself. At first I didn't think I could even think of 7 interesting things to tell, so here are 7 maybe not so interesting things about myself:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;My favorite food is ice cream.&lt;/strong&gt; That's how I found &lt;a href="http://icecreamdiary.blogspot.com/"&gt;My Ice Cream Diary&lt;/a&gt;. We have a lot in common with that! I don't just love the common flavors like chocolate or vanilla. I love banana, peppermint stick, chocolate panda paws, and superman. I've cut down over the past year when I realized I couldn't live one day without it. I love it SO much that I even have recurrent dreams about finding a new ice cream shop in town. The last time was just last week when I found a new one in the mall, with hard ice cream.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I cry very easily.&lt;/strong&gt; I've been getting better about controlling it, though. I can cry when my kids upset me, when they do well at one of their games, or even at a sad commercial. I have to hold back at movies ALL the time.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;My favorite TV shows, I guess I will admit to some of them. &lt;strong&gt;I love The Bachelor!&lt;/strong&gt; I'm surprised it keeps coming back each season. It's actually a pretty dumb show, but I can't seem to get enough of it. I love "getting to know" the new bachelor and trying to pick who he will pick. After the show ends I'm always surprised they broke up even though it always ends that way. I love a lot of the reality shows, like Survivor, and the Amazing Race.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I love kid movies, not little kid movies, but older kid movies.&lt;/strong&gt; When my kids ask me to watch a movie with them, they don't have to twist very hard. When I was in high school, my favorite movie was Sixteen Candles. I watch it so many times that I actually memorised every single word to it, "I love the bus!".&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Sometimes I can be very unsure of myself.&lt;/strong&gt; I worry that someone doesn't like me or is mad at me when I shouldn't. I second guess myself all the time. Am I spending enough time with the kids? Should I read more to them? Should I take them more places? Sometimes I think I'm doing a good job, but then I second guess that, too.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I&lt;strong&gt; won't let my kids move away from me!&lt;/strong&gt; When I lived at home my mom never wanted me to go away to college or move out of town. She use to say, "Why did I have kids I'm just going to have them until they're 18 and never see them again! What a waste!". I was afraid to challenge her on that. I thought she'd never speak to me again if I did. I ended up living at home and going to a nearby college, and now I live two minutes down the road from her. Now, at 37, I completely agree! I talk to my mom every day. I see her all the time. She babysits when I need her. She'll run the kids homework over to their school when they forget it. She comes over to take care of the kids when I'm sick and my husband is at work. She picks things up for me at the store when she goes. We help her out, too. My husband goes over to help carry things out of the house, or to fix something. He appreciates living close to them, too. This is how I want to live when my kids grow up. My husband's mom moved only one minute away from us. His brother lives across the country, and my sister, the one who tagged me, was the rebel. She lived at home for college, but moved away the first chance she could after college. She still lives out of town, though only 1 hour away now, and guess what? My mom still talks to her. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;This goes hand in hand with number 6. &lt;strong&gt;I'm turning into my mom! &lt;/strong&gt;Just ask my sister, or my husband, or especially my brother in law. I don't want my kids to ever move out of town. I read mostly nonfiction now, other than Harry Potter and John Grisham books, of course. I'm a tree hugger (not literally). I love to cook. I always have her words of advice in my head, "Never give up on your kids until the day you die." My husband just told me that my sister said I'm my mom, talking through my body. Is that a good thing? I'm not just my mom in only the positive ways. I'm taking after her body. I gain my weight in my middle. Sometimes, when I get really mad about something, I'll pound my fist down on the table, "Don't you ever do that again!". Mom, where did you come from?&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Well that was my seven random facts about me. Wow, easier than I thought! I'm suppose to tag 7 people to do this, but I don't know if there are 7 who haven't done this lately. I think I'll tag &lt;a href="http://icecreamdiary.blogspot.com/"&gt;My Ice Cream Diary&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://laughadaisy.blogspot.com/"&gt;Magirk&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://flynnards.blogspot.com/"&gt;Leslie&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://wonderfulworldofweiners.blogspot.com/"&gt;Wonderful World of Wieners&lt;/a&gt;, and &lt;a href="http://lifeaccordingtolizzy.blogspot.com/"&gt;Life According to Lizzy&lt;/a&gt;. I know, only 5 people, but if anyone else wants to do this, then you're tagged, too.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-8861227806895763491?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/8861227806895763491/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=8861227806895763491' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/8861227806895763491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/8861227806895763491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2007/12/7-random-things-about-myself.html' title='7 Random Things About Myself'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-545626215578291024</id><published>2007-12-29T09:57:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:30.468-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teenager'/><title type='text'>Raising Teens in a Tough World</title><content type='html'>I mentioned before that I think it's harder raising kids today. Part of the reason is all the influences in the media and with their friends. There's so many bad examples out there for kids to see. It seems like I write so much about my 14 year old, but I guess it's because she's my main concern now. She's a pretty good girl, but at 14, she's at such an influential age. I'm trying &lt;em&gt;so&lt;/em&gt; hard to make sure she stays good, though, I admit, sometimes she still does disappoint me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I took she and her friend to a movie. Her friend wanted to stop off at her house to pick up some money. Her dad forgot to leave her key outside, so she couldn't get in. She called her dad and YELLED at him. At first I didn't do anything about it. Then she kept yelling. "Where's my Key? Well thanks a lot dad! Now your going to have to give her mom $20!" It went on for a while. My eyes got wide. After she got off the phone, she kept talking bad about him. I asked her if she still &lt;em&gt;could&lt;/em&gt; go to the movies (because my daughter wouldn't have been allowed to after that). She said she could. Then I asked her if she ever gets grounded. I told my daughter, "You know what I'm getting at." My daughter said, "I'd be grounded." That's right! My daughter's friend said she doesn't get grounded very often, and when she does, she just doesn't speak to him until he let's her off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always liked this friend of my daughter's. I think she's a good friend for her, but boy was I surprised to hear her treat her dad like that! I hate for my daughter (and my 3 year old in the backseat) to hear this kind of talk! I didn't think I should just sit there and listen to it without saying anything. She's in &lt;em&gt;my&lt;/em&gt; car. I know if she was saying bad words, I wouldn't allow that in my car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided to turn this into a learning experience for my daughter. Later on , when her friend was gone, I told my daughter, "If you ever talked to me like that!...". Then I told her, "Just think. Someday you have a sweet little daughter, she calls you up YELLING at you because you &lt;em&gt;forgot&lt;/em&gt; to leave her key outside?" My daughter replied, "I'd slap her face!" OK, she definitely agreed with me. Later that night, when we were watching our Gilmore Girls, she said to me, "I can't believe how she talked to her dad!" I'm glad I made a big deal out of this. It &lt;em&gt;is&lt;/em&gt; a big deal, and I don't want my kids to &lt;em&gt;ever&lt;/em&gt; talk like this. Sometimes they do say things that I get mad about, but I stop right there and nip it in the bud. I'd never let it continue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R3ZhHi9Me9I/AAAAAAAAAHc/9_Z1iYWSyVk/s1600-h/blog+060.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5149410006215195602" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R3ZhHi9Me9I/AAAAAAAAAHc/9_Z1iYWSyVk/s200/blog+060.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; On a lighter note, this is what hubby made for me on Christmas Eve. I told him how much I liked the peppermint mocha's from Starbucks, so he looked up the recipe online and bought all the ingredients. He couldn't find the peppermint syrup, so he just bought creme de mint syrup instead and put green sprinkles on it instead of the red. It was &lt;em&gt;really&lt;/em&gt; good. I was impressed! That's pretty romantic for him!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's how he made it:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Creme de Mint Mochas&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heat 8 oz. milk in mug.&lt;br /&gt;Add 2 spoons cocoa mix.&lt;br /&gt;Add 1 1/2 teaspoons creme de mint syrup.&lt;br /&gt;Fill the rest of your mug with strong coffee or espresso.&lt;br /&gt;Top with whipped cream and sugar sprinkles.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-545626215578291024?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/545626215578291024/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=545626215578291024' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/545626215578291024'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/545626215578291024'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2007/12/raising-teens-in-tough-world.html' title='Raising Teens in a Tough World'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R3ZhHi9Me9I/AAAAAAAAAHc/9_Z1iYWSyVk/s72-c/blog+060.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-1181386681487928583</id><published>2007-12-28T10:43:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-29T09:45:38.752-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Kids on Vacation = Me on Vacation</title><content type='html'>I love when the kids are home from school. I look forward to every weekend. I dread Monday mornings. It's easier and definitely more fun when the kids are on vacation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;I can stay up late without worrying about getting up early to get the kids off to school.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;If I'm tired in the afternoon, I can lie down for a bit. I don't have to watch the clock to pick up the kids.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;If I have to run to the store, I have a babysitter!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;My daughter empties the dishwasher when she doesn't have school!&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;I can have intelligent conversations during the day with my older kids.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Best of all, at night we play games, watch movies, and talk.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Gilmore-Girls-Complete-First-Season/dp/B0001CCXZW/ref=pd_bbs_sr_3?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=dvd&amp;amp;qid=1198858047&amp;amp;sr=8-3"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51R9WQNR6TL._AA240_.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I got my 14 year old season one of Gilmore Girls. She only saw a couple episodes before it went the air, but I figured she'd like to watch the first season. Rory is 16, and so far, there's nothing bad on the show. She loves it SO much. I'm starting to really get into it, too. Sounds corny, I know, but it's a nice show for a mother and daughter to watch together. I'm always looking for &lt;em&gt;nice&lt;/em&gt; shows for us to watch.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Full-House-Complete-Fourth-Season/dp/B000FQIRWC/ref=sr_1_8?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=dvd&amp;amp;qid=1198860886&amp;amp;sr=1-8"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/619JNTKYD5L._SS500_.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; My 3 year old got season 4 of Full House. She opened it and once again said, "I don't want this!". Last night we sat down to watch it and she LOVED it! Michelle is 3 in this season, just starting preschool. D.J. is in 8Th grade, just like my other daughter. She loved it, too. Even my 11 year old son said he was surprised that he liked it. Full House is definitely a wholesome show to watch. We don't have many cable channels, so my youngest has never seen it before.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Pride-Prejudice-Keira-Knightley/dp/B000E1ZBGS/ref=pd_bbs_sr_2?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=dvd&amp;amp;qid=1198860959&amp;amp;sr=1-2"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/5171K5TJB4L._SS500_.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We rented Pride and Prejudice from the library. It was pretty good, but not as good as the A&amp;amp;E version, obviously. We found ourselves comparing everything. The A&amp;amp;E version was more like reading the book. There was so much more detail because it's six hours long.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;I love Harry Potter. I didn't start reading the books until after I saw &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Harry-Potter-Sorcerers-Stone-Book/dp/0439554934/ref=sr_1_4?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=books&amp;amp;qid=1198862548&amp;amp;sr=1-4"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://ecx.images-amazon.com/images/I/51VC8RPZA2L._BO2,204,203,200_PIlitb-dp-500-arrow,TopRight,45,-64_OU01_AA240_SH20_.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone movie. Then I started with&lt;br /&gt;The Chamber of Secrets and read the rest of the books. I decided to go back and actuallyread the first in the series,The Sorcerer's Stone. I'm so glad I am. Almost every page is different from the movie. Dudley didn't bring a friend to the zoo with him in the movie! The book even starts differently. If you love Harry Potter and haven't read this book yet, READ IT! I'm trying to convince my 11 year old to read it, but he thinks it will be boring. He loves Harry Potter, but isn't much of a reader, though. I'm still going to try to convince him to. I'm sure if I read it to him, he'd love it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few other things I hope to find time to do before the kids go back to school are going out to dinner, seeing National Treasure 2, playing our new games Buzz Word and Are You Smarter Than a Fifth Grader, and watching Can't Buy Me Love (remember this movie?).&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-1181386681487928583?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/1181386681487928583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=1181386681487928583' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/1181386681487928583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/1181386681487928583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2007/12/kids-on-vacation-me-on-vacation.html' title='Kids on Vacation = Me on Vacation'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-4140235853448577743</id><published>2007-12-27T09:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-27T10:45:28.311-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting Back to Normal</title><content type='html'>I'm always sad to see the end of the holidays. I will miss the kids telling me every minute how many days left until Santa comes. Christmas morning I layed in bed wondering why the kids weren't up yet, when I heard my son's alarm go off. I guess he wanted to make sure he didn't miss it! I heard him wake up the rest of the gang. They all quietly came in our room, sleepy eyed, with big smiles on their faces. Then they jumped in bed with us. We enjoyed it! It's not often that your 14 year old daughter will climb in bed with mom and dad!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Santa left the Wii for the kids. My 11 year old looked at me and his eyes started to flood! Later I told him that I noticed that and he said, "I know!". He couldn't believe it either. I'm not much of a video game player (only DDR or Karaoke Revolution) but we actually ran out yesterday to buy a 4th controller so I could pay doubles in tennis with them. Doesn't that sound fun? It's so sad that it's all already over. Will 7 year old still believe next year?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For now, I'm going to try to get my life a little back to normal, or as normal as I can with the kids being off of school. I only exercised once since the kids have been home, and I'm starting to feel fat. I haven't been running because I didn't want to go out in the cold. I know, bad excuse. I have a nice little set up in the back of our basement. We have a big area rug with some exercise equipment on it. We also have a bunch of shelves there with my 3 year old's Barbie toys on them. She loves to play her Barbies while I work out. The other day while I was riding my exercise bike, my 7 year old came down and sat next to me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mom, do you want some of my cheese and crackers? I'll make one up for you!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No thanks, sweetie. I need to exercise. Mom's too fat."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You're fat? Oh, I didn't know that!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You're a sweetie!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's why I love him so much! So when the neighbor tells my daughter, "He may be a brother to you, but he's a spoiled brat to us", it's makes me want to just cry. But mean girls, that's a whole new subject to blog about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm enjoying my kids wanting me, but I need to get my sleep back to normal, too. My 14 year old is keeping me up late at night. My husband has to get up early for work, so while he goes to bed to saw his logs, my kids and I watch movies or play games. My daughter got season one of Gilmore Girls. I must admit I'm really enjoying it! We watched one episode last night. Then I was going to go up to bed and she said, "We have to watch one more episode!". She had to keep shaking me to keep me awake. It's neat because we talk about the whole show while we watch it. Then when we FINALLY went up to bed, I stopped in her room to see if she was still going to read, and she ended up talking to me some more. For some reason, nighttime is her time to talk, and I hate to interrupt it. She told me she didn't really like the turtleneck sweater that Grandma got her, but she didn't want to hurt her feelings by asking for the receipt. She told me about some of her friends that don't take school very seriously and aren't always the best of kids. She told me how one of her "so called" friends is mad at her for the hundredth time and was picking on another of her friends in gym class, and how bad she felt for this girl. She and another girl were telling this girl to reach up and see how high she could jump, then laughing because they could see her underarm hair (the mean girl subject again). This is all the stuff I don't hear during the day, only at night, when she's ready for bed. I hate to interrupt her to go to bed myself. Finally, I looked at the clock and had to say, "It's 1:00! We have to go to bed!" Luckily the rest of the kids slept in this morning. I think I'll just try to get to sleep even a little earlier tonight, but I don't want to miss out on anything else she wants to talk about! I want to make sure SHE doesn't turn into a "Mean Girl".&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-4140235853448577743?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/4140235853448577743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=4140235853448577743' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/4140235853448577743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/4140235853448577743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2007/12/getting-back-to-normal.html' title='Getting Back to Normal'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-3079294952723258755</id><published>2007-12-24T09:32:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:30.690-05:00</updated><title type='text'>You Better Watch Out, You Better Not Cry...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R2_E3i9Me8I/AAAAAAAAAHQ/-0koeAGI5TQ/s1600-h/blog+055.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5147549357663091650" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R2_E3i9Me8I/AAAAAAAAAHQ/-0koeAGI5TQ/s200/blog+055.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Santa Clause is coming to town! The kids are SO excited. And so am I! I'm really happy with my shopping this year. I still have to go out and get one last thing today. I hope I don't get stuck in the gridlock, like I did a couple of years ago! My 11 year old said he's more excited for this Christmas than he's ever been before. My 7 year old said he can't wait until Santa brings him his &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Wii&lt;/span&gt;. I keep telling him Santa doesn't ALWAYS get everything you ask for. My 3 year old tells me she wants a TV for her room. She'll put the remote right next to her bed. (Yeah right!) My 14 year old said she's actually MORE excited for the January 7&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;In our church, we celebrate the birth of Christ on January 7&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;. We follow the old Julian calender. Our December 25&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; falls on January 7th. When I was little, Santa always came on December 25, though. So that is how my family celebrates it today! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;My husband's family celebrates Christmas on December 25, so that actually works out great for us. We spend the majority of the time with his family. Yesterday we went to his aunt's house to exchange presents. Do you tell your kids how to act when they open their presents? Well I decided they should be reminded, so they wouldn't embarrass me. I told my youngest two that when they open a present, make sure they thank that person. If it's something they already have, they don't need to tell them that. We will just try to exchange it later. It's just nice that they were thought of.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Aunt D. passed out the presents and informed us that we will open our presents one at a time, starting with the youngest. That was my 3 year old. She picked out the first present she wanted to open, opened it in front of everyone, looked at me and said, "Mommy! I don't want this!" I was SO embarrassed! Even after I reminded her!. My 7 year old looked at me and said, "She wasn't suppose to say that, huh?" Then he opened his present from them and made up for his sister's response. He got a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Steeler's&lt;/span&gt; sweatshirt and was just thrilled.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last night, when I went in her room to kiss her goodnight, I told her that it wasn't very nice how she acted and she probably hurt their feelings. She burst into tears. I told her that she has a birthday coming up and they might not want to buy her any presents if that's how she's going to act. She cried even harder and said, "But mom! Tell them not to buy me anymore presents because I don't like what they buy me!" Ugh. She still doesn't get it! In case you were wondering it was a book on CD with a little lamb and baby. Oh well. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;So anyway. Merry Christmas everyone! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-3079294952723258755?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/3079294952723258755/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=3079294952723258755' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/3079294952723258755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/3079294952723258755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2007/12/you-better-watch-out-you-better-not-cry.html' title='You Better Watch Out, You Better Not Cry...'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R2_E3i9Me8I/AAAAAAAAAHQ/-0koeAGI5TQ/s72-c/blog+055.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-5620795251162528358</id><published>2007-12-21T09:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-31T17:06:48.341-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memes'/><title type='text'>Discipline Meme</title><content type='html'>Karen from &lt;a href="http://therockingpony.blogspot.com/"&gt;The Rocking Pony&lt;/a&gt; has tagged me with a meme about disciplining our children (thank you very much, Karen, just kidding). Where do I start? I could write a book about my thoughts. What should I leave out? I agree with Karen that it depends on the situation. I think I'll just make a list of some of my thoughts:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Prevention is key&lt;/strong&gt; (easier said than done). Before we do anything, I remind the kids of my expectations of them.When I took my daughter to play at McDonald's, I knew I didn't want to have to chase her to leave, so I (and I stress) REALLY reminded her that when I say it's time to go, she has to get her shoes on and go. It worked fine. When I told her it was time to leave, she got her shoes on and we left while the other moms were chasing their kids through the tunnels. If she didn't come, I would have just grabbed her and left and in a few days told her, "I wanted to take you to McDonald's today, but the last time we left you didn't come when it was time to go. Now we can't go today."&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;High expectations&lt;/strong&gt;. I &lt;em&gt;try&lt;/em&gt; to be perfect. I &lt;em&gt;never&lt;/em&gt; will reach that level, but if I have high expectations of myself and my kids, hopefully we'll be good enough. If I want them to do something, I make them do it. For example, if I tell my daughter it's time to get out of the tub and she doesn't, I don't plead with her. I just tell her it's time to get out and pick her up out of it.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Talk "The Talk". &lt;/strong&gt;I don't want to yell. I literally feel sick if I do. I don't want to ground. I usually end up regretting it or forgetting that I DID do that. I don't want to spank. I don't even like the thought of it. I like to talk instead. (I'm a really big talker. That's one of the reasons why I blog!) I use different tones to set the mood, "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ohhh&lt;/span&gt;, WHY would you DO something like that? That REALLY hurt (so and so)", or "That REALLY upset me! Don't you EVER yell like that again when I'm on the phone!". (Are you feeling the tone?) I add the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Supernanny's&lt;/span&gt; favorite, "Now &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;apologize&lt;/span&gt; to me!". I tell my kids the most important thing in this world that I want them to be is GOOD. It's more important than their grades in school or anything.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Think back to when I was little&lt;/strong&gt;. This is sometimes is a little depressing. I think, "Would I have done this when I was little? What would my mom have done about this." A lot of times I think, "I never would have done this when I was little." The only consolation to this is that I think kids are growing up in a very different world today. There are so many bad examples set by other people and on TV.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Set a good example&lt;/strong&gt;. Kids learn by example (sometimes unfortunately). I &lt;em&gt;try&lt;/em&gt; to talk to them how I want them to talk to me. If I yell, it teaches my kids to yell. I often hear my kids repeating my kind of talk, "Excuse me" and "YOUR MAKING ME VERY MAD!!"&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Take a step back and look at myself&lt;/strong&gt;. Sometimes it's hard to judge how to handle a situation. I try to take a step back and look at myself as if I were someone else that I was giving advice to. I find it's easier to know what to do when I'm looking at someone else rather that myself. Last night when I was shopping, I heard a little girl crying SO hard that she was practically screaming. You could just see the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;frustration&lt;/span&gt; in the mom and grandma. They put the girl in the stroller screaming and quietly kept telling her to be quiet and be good, and the mom kept on shopping. I can understand their &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;frustration&lt;/span&gt;. I've been there many times, but standing back and looking at them I can say, "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Aww&lt;/span&gt;. The poor little girl. She must be SO tired. Let's go home sweetie and get your &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;jammies&lt;/span&gt; on and read a story." And LEAVE! &lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://michemaylee.liquidblade.com/2007/11/21/to-cane-or-not-to-cane/"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Miche&lt;/span&gt; does not spare the rod&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://love4kids.blogspot.com/2007/11/do-you-spare-rod.html"&gt;Jo-N wants to be her children's best friend&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://toddlerhumor.blogspot.com/2007/11/forms-of-discipline.html"&gt;Tot's Mom spares the rod and believes in patience&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://huckdoll.blogspot.com/2007/12/disciplining-of-terrible-two.html"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Huckdoll&lt;/span&gt; spares the rod and believes there are more effective yet gentle ways to discipline than spanking&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://emptywoundhopefulheart.blogspot.com/2007/12/do-ya-wanna-see-back-of-my-hand.html"&gt;Kelly at Ordinary Art has a three-step approach that does not always work but leaves tiny tushes mark free&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://mom.buttermouth.com/2007/12/how-to-mother-children-for-dummies_12.html"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;OhMommy&lt;/span&gt; has spanked and never will again&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://seibelblog.blogspot.com/2007/12/recipe-for-correction.html"&gt;Amy spanks when necessary&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://youdonthavetolikeme.blogspot.com/2007/12/children-do-not-come-with-guidebook.html"&gt;The Sports Mama found it depended on the individual child and the situation&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Karen thinks that &lt;a href="http://therockingpony.blogspot.com/2007/12/dare-we-discipline.html"&gt;each situation needs dealt with differently&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/"&gt;Maria sets high expectations and likes "the talk".&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;This meme took me a long time to write today, but I'm glad I did it. It reminded me about how I want to be with my kids ALL the time.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I have to tag 5 people so I think I'll tag: &lt;a href="http://ourpieceoftheworld.blogspot.com/"&gt;Irene&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://mariesthoughtsonlife.blogspot.com/"&gt;Marie&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://caffinatedcropper.blogspot.com/"&gt;Amy&lt;/a&gt;, &lt;a href="http://ladolcevitathesweetlifewiththreesons.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Bia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;, and &lt;a href="http://kittywrinkle.blogspot.com/"&gt;Kitty&lt;/a&gt;. Write your thoughts. Copy the above paragraph with your own thought attached. Tag 5 new people to do this. Them comment back to me! I'm really interested to hear your thoughts!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-5620795251162528358?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/5620795251162528358/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=5620795251162528358' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/5620795251162528358'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/5620795251162528358'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2007/12/discipline-meme.html' title='Discipline Meme'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-637526624318633367</id><published>2007-12-20T07:47:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:30.852-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='books'/><title type='text'>I Deserved a Break, at McDonald's</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;I've been so busy the last couple of weeks, like many other people, getting ready for Christmas. Every day I wake up with a long list in my head of what I want to accomplish. The last thing on my list is to have fun, which I haven't had time to get to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;A couple days ago, I had some errands to do, so I decided to stop at McDonald's with my 3 year old and bring my book along. She loves to play there and I never seem to find the time to read my books. It worked out great! I used my coupons, so I didn't cost very much. My daughter played for quite a while and made lots of new "friends"( which she'll never see again). I thought it might be too busy with all the Christmas shoppers, but it wasn't. It's a small play area, so it wasn't very loud with the kids. I had a chance to read!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Dear-Stormy-Stan-Sulecki/dp/1602900590/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=books&amp;amp;qid=1198163441&amp;amp;sr=8-1"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5146039766852860834" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R2pn5y9Me6I/AAAAAAAAAHA/Kp1NVFLF0B4/s200/blog+051.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;This is the book I'm reading right now. It's called Dear Stormy, written by my friend, &lt;a href="http://www.stansulecki.com/"&gt;Stan Sulecki&lt;/a&gt;. It's a touching story about a man, who's marriage is on the line, finds a picture in a secondhand store. On the bottom of it is written, "Sunset at Beach 6, to Daddy from Stormy, July 30, 1939". The man also has a daughter nicknamed Stormy, so he sets out to find the meaning of the picture, and the letters hidden in the back of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;This book is inspired by a picture his own daughter painted of the sunset at beach 6 when she was five years old and his wife's battle with cancer. It's pretty interesting reading from an author whom I know personally. I hear his voice in the book and picture he and his wife while I'm reading it, though he stressed to me, "But my wife never left me!". Stan has been writing this book ever since I met him when our girls were just starting school, so it's SO cool that it's now published. He's even working on a second book!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I actually bought this book for my husband's aunt as a Christmas present. She said she wanted a book for Christmas and she's pretty religious, so I thought this would be perfect! I even had him autograph it for her. I'm glad I did because now that I'm reading it, I KNOW she'll love it. I'm trying to be super careful so it still looks perfect. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-637526624318633367?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/637526624318633367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=637526624318633367' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/637526624318633367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/637526624318633367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2007/12/i-deserved-break-at-mcdonalds.html' title='I Deserved a Break, at McDonald&apos;s'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R2pn5y9Me6I/AAAAAAAAAHA/Kp1NVFLF0B4/s72-c/blog+051.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-2788621409092309113</id><published>2007-12-19T09:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-19T09:51:11.413-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Have You Hugged Your Kids Today?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.ba-reps.com/artists/155/2449/1-.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;a href="http://www.ba-reps.com/artist/gordon/as/photographer" target="_top"&gt;www.ba-reps.com/artist/gordon/as/photographer&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I woke up this morning thinking about what to blog about today. I had it all planned out to write about McDonald's, until I took my son to school. McDonald's will have to wait until another day.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every morning when I'm taking my 7 year old to school, I see one of my neighbors dropping his daughter off, too. He usually gets there a little before me, so I always see him walking in front of me. He's a really nice person, and he's so cute with his daughter. When almost every parent just pulls up to the sidewalk and drops their kids off (like me), he parks in the parking lot, holds her hand, and walks her all the way up to the door. He ALWAYS gives her a kiss and a hug, then takes her pink princess book bag off his back and gives it to her. Kind of sounds like I'm a stalker, huh? It's just so cute I can't resist watching them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning when I was dropping my son off, I noticed there was a father in the car in front of me dropping his kids off, too. I could see the three colorful hats of the kids in the car. My husband has been at work for hours by now. Is he a stay at home dad? How early did he have to get up this morning to get the kids ready. My son in the backseat didn't have a hat on. I was sitting there with wet hair from my shower. Maybe I should get up earlier and be more on the ball like him. Then as we got up to the drop off point, his car doors fly open, and he yells to the kid in the backseat, "GET OUT!". Then he yells to the kid in the front seat, "GO, GO!". The other kid in the backseat stopped to tell him something and the man looked thoroughly annoyed. The boys hat fell off on the road, and he barely picked it up before the man drove off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next, I pulled up to the drop off point. I actually could feel tears starting to come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Gulp) "Can I have a kiss?" (He doesn't like to kiss me when anyone at school can see.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He kissed me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I love you! Have a good day!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"OK. Bye mom."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whenever I see parents acting like that to their kids, it just makes me so sad and I have to hug my kids. I'm trying not to be too judgemental, though. I'm not the most perfect mom. I lose my patience. Maybe he has a lot of stress in his life right now. Did he just lose his job? Did someone just yell at him? Did his kids do something REALLY bad? Maybe. But it's still so sad to see kids starting their day off at school like this.&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/4663633665226912327-2788621409092309113?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/2788621409092309113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=2788621409092309113' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/2788621409092309113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/2788621409092309113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2007/12/have-you-hugged-your-kids-today.html' title='Have You Hugged Your Kids Today?'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-8896561768185475078</id><published>2007-12-18T10:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:31.342-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='recipes'/><title type='text'>Kid's Favorite Meatloaf</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R2fsqC9Me3I/AAAAAAAAAGo/_ywOH05YNQA/s1600-h/blog+053.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145341306386283378" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R2fsqC9Me3I/AAAAAAAAAGo/_ywOH05YNQA/s320/blog+053.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; When I first got married, my mom gave me one of her cookbooks because I had NONE. This is the one she gave me. I have really gotten my use out of it! Can't you tell? I love the recipes because they are pretty simple, but very good at the same time. Some of my favorites include: zucchini bread, peanut butter cookies, chili, beef stew, and meatloaf.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All my kids just love my meatloaf. They actually fight over who gets the last piece. Well OK, I guess not ALL my kids. I don't count my 7 year old because he only eats the healthy meats like hot dogs, pepperoni, bologna, chicken fingers, and chicken wings. But anyway, this really IS a great kid favorite recipe. My 11 year old once told me he doesn't know why kids always groan about meatloaf because he loves it so much. I told him it was because they haven't had MY meatloaf. The secret to it is the ketchup, brown sugar, and mustard topping. It's a cheap recipe, and I always have the ingredients for it on hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R2fzUy9Me5I/AAAAAAAAAG4/QTy_UDNS860/s1600-h/blog+pics+044.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5145348637895457682" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R2fzUy9Me5I/AAAAAAAAAG4/QTy_UDNS860/s320/blog+pics+044.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Meatloaf&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;2 eggs&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;3/4 cup milk&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;1/2 cup fine dry bread crumbs (I use about 1 cup seasoned bread crumbs.)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;1/4 cup finely chopped onion&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;2 tablespoons snipped parsley&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;1 teaspoon salt&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;1/2 teaspoon ground sage&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;1 1/2 pounds ground beef&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;1/4 cup ketchup (This cookbook still calls it catsup!)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;2 tablespoons brown sugar&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;1 teaspoon dry mustard (I usually used prepared.)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Preheat oven to 350'. Combine eggs and milk; stir in crumbs, onion, parsley, salt, sage, and 1/8 teaspoon pepper. Add beef; mix well. Pat into a 8x4x2 inch loaf pan. Bake 1 1/4 hours. Spoon off excess fat. Combine ketchup, sugar, and mustard; spread over meat. Return to oven for 10 minutes.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-8896561768185475078?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/8896561768185475078/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=8896561768185475078' title='14 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/8896561768185475078'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/8896561768185475078'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2007/12/kids-favorite-meatloaf.html' title='Kid&apos;s Favorite Meatloaf'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R2fsqC9Me3I/AAAAAAAAAGo/_ywOH05YNQA/s72-c/blog+053.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>14</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-5201608500364584247</id><published>2007-12-16T20:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:31.545-05:00</updated><title type='text'>l'm Almost Ready!</title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5144756160041876306" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R2XYeC9Me1I/AAAAAAAAAGY/VN53z1meAd8/s200/blog.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Well, I finally feel like I'm ready for Christmas. We just got the tree up this weekend. It looks pretty good. My daughter took this picture with her new ca&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;mera&lt;/span&gt;. Look carefully, there's a present under there for YOU! All my Christmas cards are sent out. I have a few last minute presents to pick up. What does Santa leave in your stockings? I wrapped all my presents. This is the earliest I did my wrapping. I baked some cookies, but I hope to get a lot more baked tomorrow. I don't understand it. I had a whole container filled in the freezer. Now it's only half full! How could that have happened?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love to watch Christmas movies. I try to see at least one every year around Christmas. I had a couple of movie passes to use by the end of the year, so we went to go see&lt;strong&gt; Fred Clause &lt;/strong&gt;today. It was cute. My 7 year old loved how he rode in the back of the sleigh to go to the North Pole to visit Santa. He wondered how all the elves become elves. My 3 year old got a little bored.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I have to go to the bathroom."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"OK. In a minute. The movie's almost over."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I have to go pee and poop!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sh! OK."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to the bathroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I was just teasing. I don't have to go."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is why she'll be with grandma when we go see &lt;strong&gt;National Treasure 2.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Tonight we watched &lt;strong&gt;Survivor . &lt;/strong&gt;I couldn't believe Todd won! I thought for sure it was Amanda. While we were watching it, my 14 year old asked me if I ever talk to myself. I told her I do. I say things like, "Now, where did I put that...", or "Why did I just do that? That was really dumb." She told me she talks to herself all the time. She said she's getting really good at it now and that she can do it silently in her head. At the bus stop in the morning when &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;everyone's&lt;/span&gt; talking to each other, she just has a conversation with herself, and she actually finds herself having fun! "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;OK&lt;/span&gt; then!", I said. I told her I just had to add that to my blog! Isn't that funny?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I keep a notebook next to my bed. I use it kind of like a journal. I don't write down everything that happened that day, just usually short things that I want to remember, like funny things the kids said to me&lt;strong&gt;: &lt;/strong&gt;Do you talk to yourself mom?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-5201608500364584247?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/5201608500364584247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=5201608500364584247' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/5201608500364584247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/5201608500364584247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2007/12/lm-almost-ready.html' title='l&apos;m Almost Ready!'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R2XYeC9Me1I/AAAAAAAAAGY/VN53z1meAd8/s72-c/blog.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-6058342477709113767</id><published>2007-12-15T21:39:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-19T09:57:22.684-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='living on a budget'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grocery bills'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='budget'/><title type='text'>Saving on Groceries</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.wegmans.com/images/about/storeFront.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.wegmans.com/images/about/storeFront.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;As I've written before, I have been saving a TON on groceries lately. I've gone from spending $200/week to $100/week for a family of 6. (This does not include the kids lunches for school. It cuts down on a lot of stress to just let them buy their lunch and I'm not buying food that gets eaten before I get a chance to pack them.) Now that I'm playing my "Grocery Game", I'm having fun watching my savings grow!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every time I see an article about how to save money shopping, I read it. I'm always looking for a good new tip. I usually don't learn anything new. &lt;a href="http://kelly4.blogspot.com/"&gt;Amy&lt;/a&gt; asked me if I had any tips on saving on grocery shopping and I thought, that's a great thing to blog about. I'll share what works for me, and you can share what works for you. I'm always looking for new ideas (other than doing the obvious like buying what's on sale and using coupons). Here's some of mine:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1.&lt;strong&gt;Bringing my calculator&lt;/strong&gt;. This was my friend Dee's idea. I use a budget of $100 that I don't want to go over. If I get to the end of my shopping and I'm over, I have to put things back until I'm under $100. This is my "Grocery Game".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2.&lt;strong&gt;Not many snacks&lt;/strong&gt;. I don't buy the kids favorite snacks much anymore. They really don't need them. I want them to eat better at meals. Snack should eaten just to tide you over until the next meal. If I buy cookies, they eat the whole box in one day. If I buy pretzels, they only eat them because they're hungry and can't wait until the next meal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3.&lt;strong&gt;Using supplies sparingly&lt;/strong&gt;. I count make-up and cleaning supplies in with my grocery budget. They are expensive! I use every last drop of make-up until it's all gone. I use every scrap of lotion. I try to hold off buying more until I absolutely have to. I use just a tiny bit of cleaners to clean. Cleaning supplies are my gold. Sometimes I dust using a damp cloth so I don't use too much furniture polish. I use just a quick spray in the bathroom. Did you know dish detergent works great for cleaning off soap scum? It's cheap, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4.&lt;strong&gt;No juice boxes, cans of pop, or fruit snack&lt;/strong&gt;. I use to buy these and my kids just ate and drank them all up because they were there, not because they needed them. I only buy 1 container of apple juice a week and two liters of pop (once in a while). I want to kids to drink water if they're thirsty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5.&lt;strong&gt;Cheap fruits and vegetables&lt;/strong&gt;. Every week I buy the ones that are the cheapest, like lettuce, bananas, apples, carrots. I only buy apple cider when it's on sale. I buy more expensive fruits and vegetables when they're on sale, in season, or when they fit in my budget.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6.&lt;strong&gt;Eat leftovers&lt;/strong&gt;. I REALLY eat leftover. If there's a piece of meat from dinner leftover, it's my husbands lunch for the next day. If there's leftover pork, I'll make BBQ pork sandwiches. I even eat the kids leftover breakfasts! I never buy anything special for myself for breakfast because there always seems to be some waffle pieces and orange juice sitting there when the kids go to school, usually just enough for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7.&lt;strong&gt;Have super cheap dinner nights&lt;/strong&gt;. A few nights a week we eat REALLY cheap dinners. I'll make french toast sprinkles with cinnamon and applesauce, Kraft mac n cheese with peas, hamburgers on the grill (sometimes with bread as the bun).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8.&lt;strong&gt;Do without&lt;/strong&gt;. &lt;a href="http://flynnards.blogspot.com/"&gt;Leslie&lt;/a&gt; said she does this, too. Sometimes, if I can, I just do without certain items so I can make it to my next shopping day. If I notice we're running low on milk, we might just have water with our dinner. You only need 3 servings a milk a day and one serving is 1 cup, a pretty small glass. My kids get their dairy from a lot of other things, too, like cheese. I'm sure they already get plenty of calcium.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9.&lt;strong&gt;Limiting food&lt;/strong&gt;. Believe me, my family is hardly starving. I think there's nothing wrong with not letting the kids eat as much as they want at dinner. My husband looked at my little meatloaf I made once and said that was never going to be enough for all of us. I told him there would be plenty if we had no more that two slices each. Why should we eat until we're stuffed?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, you can't eat like this all the time. I love to cook. I bake a ton of Christmas cookies. I just try to offset the costs a little when I can. I have my favorites that I refuse to give up, but I like to think about Laura Ingalls and how she ate. They ate whatever they had, sometimes just molasses and bread. And Laura lived to a ripe old age! Hopefully you might be able to use one of my ideas about how I watch my grocery bills. Does anyone have any other ideas that work for you?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-6058342477709113767?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/6058342477709113767/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=6058342477709113767' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/6058342477709113767'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/6058342477709113767'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2007/12/saving-on-groceries.html' title='Saving on Groceries'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-4620555465152249953</id><published>2007-12-14T16:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-19T10:01:48.543-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bed wetting'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hating school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='living on a budget'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grocery bills'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='budget'/><title type='text'>Update on past posts</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.hickerphoto.com/data/media/172/desert_christmas_t2254.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.hickerphoto.com/data/media/172/desert_christmas_t2254.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I thought I'd give an update on a few of my past posts:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;About yesterday&lt;/strong&gt;... My 7 year old came home from school perfectly fine! When I picked him up, he was walking down the street with his friends and waved goodbye. He jumped in the car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hi! How was your day?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hi mom! Good."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He questioned if big brother was home. I told him yes and he just said, "I knew it!". That was all. Then he ran off to his friends house to play when we got home. I'm really glad I sent him yesterday. This morning his brother felt better and went to school, but he still tried to tell me that he was going to throw up. When he walked out the door he forgot all about throwing up and was fine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;About my new budget&lt;/strong&gt;... It's going pretty well. Considering it's Christmas shopping time, I can't worry as much this month because I have to buy presents. But the grocery shopping, wow! I took my calculator with me to the grocery store for the past two weeks and saved a TON of money! Usually my goal is to spend $150/week for my family of 6, but when I actually added up what I spent it was closer to $200! That's $800/month! For the last two weeks I spent only $100. I think that's pretty good. If I keep it up that will be a savings of $400/month. What do others spend on their groceries?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;About potty training&lt;/strong&gt;... My 3 year old is not doing very well at staying dry at night. By the time I go up to bed (which has been pretty late because I'm always on the computer), she's usually already wet. I guess waking her to go has helped, but she still has a way to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;About my 3 year old getting into everything lately&lt;/strong&gt;... She all of a sudden is SO much better! I'm relieved. She has been going right to sleep at night, without getting out of bed and going into big sister's room and ruining her stuff. She hasn't sprayed her hair with perfume. She hasn't painted her nails. She hasn't broken her brother's Nintendo DS. Life is good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just got to work on 7 year old not hating school, and keeping 3 year old dry at night.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-4620555465152249953?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/4620555465152249953/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=4620555465152249953' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/4620555465152249953'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/4620555465152249953'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2007/12/update-on-past-posts.html' title='Update on past posts'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-4740543306700982190</id><published>2007-12-13T13:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-13T15:24:08.080-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sick kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='spirited child'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hating school'/><title type='text'>"Had a Bad Day"</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.imperfectparent.com/images/articles/crying_kid.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.imperfectparent.com/images/articles/crying_kid.gif" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As I've written about before, my 7 year old just HATES school. This morning my 11 year old felt sick and I told him he could stay home. Well, suddenly 7 year old gets very upset. Why does he get to stay home? Then he has every excuse why HE should stay home, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do you know what will happen if I let you stay home from school too many times? They'll put me in jail!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's dumb."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I very calmly told him he had to go to school. He started crying. I ran upstairs to take my shower. He followed me up the stairs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I have a fever! Can you at least take my temperature?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt his head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You don't have a fever. Go brush your teeth."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boo Hoo!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Out of all 4 of my kids, he hates school the most, always has. My 14 year old loves it. She didn't want to miss another day being sick. My 11 year old can take it or leave it. He loves his bus ride, a few of his teachers, and getting all A's. Even my 3 year old likes to play school all the time. She picks out her book bag in every store we're at. Seven year old - just plain HATES it. I really feel sorry for him. I know I wouldn't want to have to go to a job every day that I hated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every morning, I try to be as cheerful as I can. I wake him up early enough, so he's not rushed and has a little time for himself. I pick out clothes that are his favorites - comfy sweatpants and a hoodie. I make him hot cocoa with his breakfast. I try not to ever say the words, "Hurry up!". I cheerfully tell him to have a good day as he gets out of the car. All these things really help. But today, nothing was helping, knowing that his favorite big brother was home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What if I have a cough?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Then you'll just be coughing in school."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What if I get diarrhea?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You won't!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to put his shoes on myself. I had to zip his jacket. He just stood there sobbing. The whole way to school he just sobbed. As we pulled up to the doors he wiped his tears and blew his nose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You just want him to stay home with you so you can play games with him all day!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Don't be ridiculous. Besides, I'm going to take him to school today when he feels a little better."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He better be at school when I get home or I'm going to be mad."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or he's going to be mad? Is that me talking? I need to watch my words better! I hate dropping him off at school like this. I wanted to keep him home because I felt so bad for him, but what would that teach him? Poor thing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got back home, I emailed his teacher and explained to her about why he looked the way he did today. She messaged me back and told me they had a nice calm day planned: watching Frosty the Snowman in the morning (he likes that, good) and listening to Christmas music in the afternoon. Christmas music? He hates music about as much as he hates school! He covers his ears and shuts his eyes sometimes. Maybe I should have kept him home!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess he's going to be "mad" anyway when he gets home. Big brother never made it to school.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-4740543306700982190?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/4740543306700982190/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=4740543306700982190' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/4740543306700982190'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/4740543306700982190'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2007/12/had-bad-day.html' title='&quot;Had a Bad Day&quot;'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-3136854451870358581</id><published>2007-12-12T21:26:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:31.778-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Shortbread Lemon Bars'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christmas cookies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='recipes'/><title type='text'>Christmas cookies</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;Here's another one of my favorite Christmas cookie recipes. Not only is there lemon in it, but there's a little orange, too. It makes them super yummy. This is my 11 year old's favorite. He just reminded me about making them. I forgot all about them. I got the recipe from Margaret Peterson in the Taste of Home magazine. If you've never read it, it has lots of really delicious country style recipes. I think I've tried recipes from every single issue that I own!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R2CZJlFCcDI/AAAAAAAAAGI/Jd0uz1YStow/s1600-h/blog+037.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5143279164308222002" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R2CZJlFCcDI/AAAAAAAAAGI/Jd0uz1YStow/s320/blog+037.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/a&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Shortbread Lemon Bars&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 1/2 cup flour&lt;br /&gt;1/2 cup confectioners' sugar&lt;br /&gt;1 teaspoon grated lemon peel&lt;br /&gt;1 teaspoon grated orange peel&lt;br /&gt;3/4 cup cold butter&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;FILLING&lt;br /&gt;4 eggs&lt;br /&gt;2 cups sugar&lt;br /&gt;1/3 cup lemon juice&lt;br /&gt;1/4 cup flour&lt;br /&gt;2 teaspoons grated lemon peel&lt;br /&gt;2 teaspoons grated orange peel&lt;br /&gt;1 teaspoon baking powder&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TOPPING&lt;br /&gt;2 cups sour cream&lt;br /&gt;1/3 cup sugar&lt;br /&gt;1/2 teaspoon vanilla extract&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In food processor, combine flour, confectioners' sugar, and lemon and orange peel. Cut in butter until crumble. Process until mixture forms a ball. Pat into a greased 13x9 baking pan. Bake at 350' for 12-14 minutes or until set and edges are lightly browned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Combine filling ingredients. Pour over hot crust. Bake for 14-16 minutes or until set.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Combine topping ingredients. Spread over filling. Bake 7-9 minutes or until topping is set.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cool on a wire rack. Refrigerate overnight. Cut into bars. Makes 3 dozen.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-3136854451870358581?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/3136854451870358581/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=3136854451870358581' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/3136854451870358581'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/3136854451870358581'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2007/12/christmas-cookies.html' title='Christmas cookies'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R2CZJlFCcDI/AAAAAAAAAGI/Jd0uz1YStow/s72-c/blog+037.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-5213270886928096529</id><published>2007-12-11T16:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:31.938-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Santa!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R18OvJmMhiI/AAAAAAAAAGA/W6ytjI6X5RI/s1600-h/blog+001.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5142845502673159714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R18OvJmMhiI/AAAAAAAAAGA/W6ytjI6X5RI/s400/blog+001.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last night we saw Santa! The REAL one! See? From the big bushy beard down to the big black boots? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My husband and I took the kids to our local mall last night to see Santa and were surprised when the real one was actually there! Not a Santa helper, the real one. It was quite exciting.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My 3 year old was fairly typical. She wouldn't sit on his lap. Finally, with some coaxing, she told Santa what she wanted - new play dough, suckers, and some new barbies. Then she wouldn't STOP talking. Santa finally had to tell her she could go get a treat.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For my 7 year old, this was serious business. He told Santa he wanted the Wii system. Santa told him it would fit in his sleigh. Last night when he went to bed, he told me what Santa had said and does that mean he's going to get it. I told him that sounded like it's a good possibility. He also said Santa has cameras set up everywhere to watch all the kids to see if they're good or not. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mom. How old are you when you stop seeing Santa?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Probably whenever you want to."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well I'm never going to stop seeing him. I'm going to be seeing him even when I'm an old man!"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-5213270886928096529?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/5213270886928096529/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=5213270886928096529' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/5213270886928096529'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/5213270886928096529'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2007/12/santa.html' title='Santa!'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R18OvJmMhiI/AAAAAAAAAGA/W6ytjI6X5RI/s72-c/blog+001.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-6934948329912591592</id><published>2007-12-10T09:34:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-19T09:59:42.549-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthdays'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teenager'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school bus drivers'/><title type='text'>Happy  Birthday Mr. Bus Driver!</title><content type='html'>&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.morethanpaper.com/TeacherGifts/DinkyDesigns/SchoolBus.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Today is my daughter's bus driver's birthday. Normally a day we wouldn't know about or even care about, but his birthday is one the kids on his bus WANT to celebrate.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Being a bus driver isn't the most glamorous job, isn't the highest paid, but my daughter's bus driver obviously is happy to have it, and the kids are happy to have him! It's a huge responsibility and involves TONS of patience. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;He says good morning to every kid who gets on and goodbye to every kid who gets off. Most of the school's bus drivers assign seats to the kids, not him. That's so important to middle schooler's who are usually not speaking to someone and who have a new best friend every week! He's very patient. At one of the stops, he waits every morning for one of the kids to walk all the down the street to the stop and get on the bus. My daughter asked him, "Doesn't that bother you? Waiting for her every morning?" "Nope, not at all!", he replied. He doesn't flinch with the screaming kids. He is the ONLY bus driver who will allow the kid's friends to ride home on his bus. The parents like that. Then we don't have to drive our kids to their friends house after school.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;About a week ago, my daughter said that it was her birthday that weekend and (by the way) when was his birthday. He said it was December 10. She went around to all the kids on the bus collecting just $1 each. Some kids gave more than $1, like $5 and even $8! Some kids none at all. But after a few days she collected almost $30 and is going to buy him a gift certificate for his favorite restaurant - The Olive Garden. I'm sure it's a place he doesn't get to visit very often, living on a bus driver's salary. The kids are going to sing Happy Birthday to him. I'm glad he's going to know how much he's appreciated. Only one little flaw. Daughter's sick today! Oh, well. They'll celebrate it tomorrow. He'll be even more surprised then! Happy Birthday Mr. Bus Driver!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-6934948329912591592?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/6934948329912591592/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=6934948329912591592' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/6934948329912591592'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/6934948329912591592'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2007/12/happy-birthday-mr-bus-driver.html' title='Happy  Birthday Mr. Bus Driver!'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-5305985481157331246</id><published>2007-12-08T09:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:33.304-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christmas shopping'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='PTA'/><title type='text'>Holiday Shopping at School</title><content type='html'>This week 7 year old had his Holiday Shopping day at school. I just had to tell you how GREAT and FUNNY and CUTE it was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few days before their day to shop, he brought home an envelope for me to put money in and check off who he should buy for and how much money to spend on each person. The presents ranged from $.25 - $7.00. We decided he would buy for Mom, Dad, brother, sisters, and maybe Grandma (if he had enough left). I put $10 in the envelope. I wasn't sure if he'd be able to get very much for that amount, but my other son wanted money too, so I told them to just buy what they could (living on a budget, remember).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, as I drove over to pick him up after school, I saw him walking down the street with two plastic bags stuffed to the top with presents! He looked so funny! He got in the car and told me all about how he bought presents for everyone. When we got home, he went right to work wrapping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"This is what I got for you, mommy!" ( It was a box of candy.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R1sDncPMSoI/AAAAAAAAAEY/zzuOaRstdKA/s1600-h/blog+025.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5141707375703247490" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R1sDncPMSoI/AAAAAAAAAEY/zzuOaRstdKA/s200/blog+025.jpg" border="0" /&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;"It was only $1!" ( I was happy. I love candy. )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Don't you want to wait until Christmas to give this to me?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, I have another present for you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How many kids do you think gave their mom's their presents today?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Ummm&lt;/span&gt;. Probably everyone!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then he showed me what he got everyone else: a "golden" necklace for Grandma for only $!. (It was actually really pretty!), a chess game for Dad, a watch for little sis, boxes of candy for big sis and brother, a football for himself, a cup filled with candy for himself again, and another box of candy for the whole family, oops, he forgot (and hit himself in the head), this last of candy he actually bought for himself, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R1sKxMPMSuI/AAAAAAAAAFI/-9_Gr60cw4Y/s1600-h/blog+035.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5141715239788366562" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R1sKxMPMSuI/AAAAAAAAAFI/-9_Gr60cw4Y/s200/blog+035.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R1tjncPMSxI/AAAAAAAAAFg/qwUCbVMpJ3M/s1600-h/blog+030.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5141812928819514130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R1tjncPMSxI/AAAAAAAAAFg/qwUCbVMpJ3M/s200/blog+030.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R1sNMsPMSwI/AAAAAAAAAFY/hq_duINhGH4/s1600-h/blog+034.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5141717911258024706" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R1sNMsPMSwI/AAAAAAAAAFY/hq_duINhGH4/s200/blog+034.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I thought you were suppose to be buying US presents. "&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I did, but they told me I had $3 left to spend on myself!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;OK&lt;/span&gt;, I guess. He had so much fun. The event was VERY organized. They had all the presents arranged in separate sections for moms, dads, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;grandmas&lt;/span&gt;, etc. They took donations of candy to make some of them. There were volunteers to help the kids pick out the presents. All the the items for sale were really nice things! Obviously they cost less than their retail price. Great job PTA! This project was headed my friend Dee, of course (founder of my new budget).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R1sCHcPMSnI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/xYRRVDFEQBI/s1600-h/blog+024.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5141705726435805810" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R1sCHcPMSnI/AAAAAAAAAEQ/xYRRVDFEQBI/s320/blog+024.jpg" 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/4663633665226912327-5305985481157331246?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/5305985481157331246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=5305985481157331246' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/5305985481157331246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/5305985481157331246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2007/12/holiday-shopping-at-school.html' title='Holiday Shopping at School'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R1sDncPMSoI/AAAAAAAAAEY/zzuOaRstdKA/s72-c/blog+025.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-6440968680464635202</id><published>2007-12-07T11:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-19T09:57:51.626-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='living on a budget'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grocery bills'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='budget'/><title type='text'>Living on a Budget</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.winona.edu/grants/images/budget%20green.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www.winona.edu/grants/images/budget%20green.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;It's official. I'm now on a budget. Husband and I decided we want to start saving more money. Where does it all go? It doesn't seem like we spend that much, but how come we're not seeing it in our savings. We have lots of plans, vacations, college funds, retirement, cottage on the lake. We decided to take a closer look at how we're actually spending our money.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;We like our credit card. I put all my groceries, gas, and other expenditures on it and the card gives a percentage back based on how much we spent. I recently received a check for $78! That really was free money. I wouldn't have gotten that check if I had used cash. The problem is, it's too easy to use the card. We took a closer look at what was put on the card. Our biggest expense - groceries! I almost had a heart attack when I added up what we spend in one month. I DO have 4 kids, but I still think I'm spending too much. That's when I talked to my friend Dee.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Dee told me she's been on a budget ever since she and her husband got married. They sat down and decided how much they can spend each month, and how much will go into their savings and emergency fund. They call their emergency fund anything that comes up each month that they weren't planning on , such as fixing their car all the way down to a birthday present! For Christmas, she has a Christmas club that she contributes to all year. She only spends the money &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;allotted&lt;/span&gt; for it. I asked her how she handles the grocery bill. She told me she has an amount she can spend at the store and uses a calculator to add everything up as she puts it in her cart. She puts some extra items that she wants, but doesn't actually need in the corner of her cart. If she gets to the end of her shopping and sees she's over her limit, she has to put back some of the items in her "extra" corner until she's back within her budget. Dee said it's fun. It's kind of like a game.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Really? Hey, I like games! I could do that! My husband and I decided on a grocery budget. This week I even decided to spend $50 less than that, to make up for some of the Christmas presents I was buying. I took a calculator to the grocery store. I entered the price of EVERYTHING, right down to the price of my eggplant. I must admit, I felt a little embarrassed at first. What would people think of me and my calculator? I tried hiding it at first. Then I realized what Dee was talking about. It really was like a game! I found myself watching every single penny I spent! I wanted 4 bananas, so I looked for the smallest ones I could find. This was the first time I bought generic ketchup. It was so much cheaper! I never even looked at the price of sprinkles for my cookies before, $2.99? Forget it, I'll think of something else. Would you believe I came in $6 below what I wanted to spend? By watching EVERYTHING, I had enough money to buy supplies for Christmas cookies and some fish that I really wanted. It really wasn't that hard. I had fun doing it, too. Also, by the time I got to the end of the store, I didn't care who saw my calculator. My husband is very happy about this, too. A calculator, such a simple thing.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Everyone I know tells me they spend so much on groceries, too. Who says, "Honestly, I don't spend very much on food?" Try this the next time you go to the store. It's amazing. I can't believe I haven't tried this before. I'm going to call Dee now to thank her. THANK YOU!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Please tell me any budget tips you have!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-6440968680464635202?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/6440968680464635202/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=6440968680464635202' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/6440968680464635202'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/6440968680464635202'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2007/12/living-on-budget.html' title='Living on a Budget'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-7137014431421791436</id><published>2007-12-06T09:56:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:33.708-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christmas cookies'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='recipes'/><title type='text'>Christmas cookies</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R1gZfsPMSlI/AAAAAAAAAEA/4SHOU7x1Ut8/s1600-h/blog+007.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140887006884940370" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R1gZfsPMSlI/AAAAAAAAAEA/4SHOU7x1Ut8/s200/blog+007.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I just started baking my Christmas cookies last night, so I thought I'd share my favorites each time I make them:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Peanut Butter Kisses&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1/2 cup shortening&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;1 cup peanut butter&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;1/3 cup sugar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;1/3 cup brown sugar&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;1 egg&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;2 tablespoons milk&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;1 teaspoon vanilla&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;1 1/2 cup flour&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;1 teaspoon baking soda&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;1/2 teaspoon salt&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;10 ounces kisses or peanut butter cups&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Preheat oven to 350'. Beat shortening and peanut butter. Add sugar and brown sugar. Then add egg, milk, and vanilla. In a separate bowl, stir together flour, baking soda, and salt. Gradually add this to mixture. Shape into balls. Roll in sugar. Bake 8-10 minutes. Immediately place kiss or peanut butter cup on each cookie. Cool on wire rack. Makes 4 dozen.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*This is SUCH a good recipe because it uses extra peanut butter. I can't stop my kids from eating them!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140887015474874978" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R1gZgMPMSmI/AAAAAAAAAEI/6WeU9g0HEhI/s200/blog+010.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Chocolate Chip Toffee Bars&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 1/3 cup flour&lt;br /&gt;2/3 cup brown sugar&lt;br /&gt;1 1/2 sticks butter&lt;/div&gt;1 egg&lt;br /&gt;2 cups chocolate chips (12 ounces)&lt;br /&gt;1 can sweetened condensed milk&lt;br /&gt;10 ounces toffee bits&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Stir together flour and brown sugar.Cut in butter until mixture resembles course crumbs.Add egg, mix well. Stir in 1 1/2 cups chips. Reserve 1 1/2 cups of the mixture.Press remaining mixture onto greased 13x9x2 baking pan. Bake for 10 minutes. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Pour&lt;/span&gt; condensed milk over hot crust. Top with 1 1/2 cups toffee bits. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Sprinkle&lt;/span&gt; reserved crumb mixture, then 1/2 cup chocolate chips on top. Bake 25-30 minutes or until golden brown. Sprinkle top with remaining 1/4 cup toffee bits. Cool and cut into bars.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;*These are one of the faster cookies to make. I usually bake these along with another kind of cookie. They are my husband's favorite.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-7137014431421791436?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/7137014431421791436/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=7137014431421791436' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/7137014431421791436'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/7137014431421791436'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2007/12/blog-post.html' title='Christmas cookies'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R1gZfsPMSlI/AAAAAAAAAEA/4SHOU7x1Ut8/s72-c/blog+007.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-5325540644212872675</id><published>2007-12-05T11:02:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:34.066-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photography'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='snow'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christmas decorating'/><title type='text'>The Snowy Day</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R1bNEcPMShI/AAAAAAAAADg/NrEO62B23HI/s1600-h/IMG_1474[1].jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140521500873083410" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R1bNEcPMShI/AAAAAAAAADg/NrEO62B23HI/s200/IMG_1474%5B1%5D.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Last night it started to snow a little. The kids couldn't wait. They got their snow pants on, even though the grass was just barely covered. This is what we woke up to today: a lot of snow. Eleven year old happily shoveled the sidewalk before school. One of his jobs is to shovel the sidewalk before and after school in the winter. We have a plow service to do our big driveway, so I don't have to shovel at all anymore!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Last year, I knew I needed new tires. If there was snow on a hill, I just barely could get up it. The road to my son's school is very steep and windy. One time last year, I went to pick the kids up from a dance. I barely got up the hill! All the cars behind me were on my tail, driving up the hill with no problem at all. My husband says I just need to take lessons in how to drive in the snow. I admit, he does have a small point, but I don't believe he could have done much better than me that day. Tonight's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;agenda&lt;/span&gt;: new tires! I'm excited! I'll be able to drive again!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R1bX_8PMSiI/AAAAAAAAADo/CUsVmzLKOYM/s1600-h/blog+pics+128.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5140533518191577634" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R1bX_8PMSiI/AAAAAAAAADo/CUsVmzLKOYM/s200/blog+pics+128.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; This is my little shed in my yard. Last year I bought two wreaths with red berries to put on the doors. This year I want to put icicle lights around the roof, but I have to figure out a way to string the lights out there, without the kids tripping over the cords. I think it would be so cute! I can see my shed from my mudroom, my kitchen cooking area, and my kitchen tale. Also, you can see the shed when you drive down one of the side streets.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;As for my picture taking abilities, I'm now determined to learn more about photography, thanks to &lt;a href="http://photosbytammy.blogspot.com/"&gt;Tammy&lt;/a&gt; and her beautiful pictures on her blog and &lt;a href="http://ourpieceoftheworld.blogspot.com/"&gt;Irene&lt;/a&gt; for her photo tips. I REALLY don't know much about it, so I'm now going to learn. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-5325540644212872675?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/5325540644212872675/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=5325540644212872675' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/5325540644212872675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/5325540644212872675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2007/12/snowy-day.html' title='The Snowy Day'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R1bNEcPMShI/AAAAAAAAADg/NrEO62B23HI/s72-c/IMG_1474%5B1%5D.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-8235289095694867271</id><published>2007-12-04T09:35:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-12-13T13:37:23.017-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='photography'/><title type='text'>Posting Pictures on Your Blog</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www.museum.tv/archives/etv/L/htmlL/leaveittob/leaveittobIMAGE/leaveittob.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.museum.tv/archives/etv/L/htmlL/leaveittob/leaveittobIMAGE/leaveittob.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, everything is pretty much back to normal today. All the kids are back in school. My seven year old was still hoping to be sick today. He asked me what would happen if he wakes up sick. I told him it won't happen. What's to hate in 1rst grade? It's sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know there are many of you who post pictures of yourselves and your families on your blog. I haven't done that, yet. I guess it just worries me a little. I think about doing it, but just haven't done it. I enjoy looking at everyone's pictures. I like to see what everyone looks like. I enjoy seeing the cute and sometimes funny pictures of your kids. It also makes me feel like I know these people a little better when I can picture what you look like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think one of the reasons I haven't posted my pictures is because when I first started my blog, I was afraid someone I knew would see it. Now, after reading so many other blogs, I realize there are a lot of people like out there like me. I don't care anymore who sees my blog. Last night a good friend of mine, who I don't get a chance to see enough, called me and told me she found my blog. "Oh, uh, you did?" She said she loved it and that it's a great way for her to keep in touch with what's going on with my family. I'm glad she liked it! But then I told her that now I'm going to have to make sure I don't post something bad about her! (jk, jk)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This past weekend I emailed an old friend of mine, a former ballet dancer now turned opera singing cousin (yes I'm talking about you). I mentioned that I'm now blogging and he said he wanted to see it. My mom said it's a little personal, like when I mentioned what my 3 year old put in her underwear. I don't care. I don't think he'll be offended by hearing my "girl" stories. Besides, I'm glad he'll get a chance to learn what's going on in my life. We use to be such good friends. When our families would visit from out of town, we would stay up all night talking about the facts of life. Now we lead such different lives. He moved away from his hometown to become an opera singer in NYC. I live just a couple minutes from where I grew up, and am a stay at home mom to 4 kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One blogger recently questioned if other bloggers thought they would be friends with the people they have met online. I didn't comment, but have thought about that question a lot lately. I think that's the best thing about blogging. It gives you the chance to talk to people that you may never have the chance to in real life. You can talk to people all over the world. You get to know about someone else without judging everything about them. Sometimes it's hard to get to know people in real life just because of how they look. For example, I once had a job where my boss looked SO mean. She never smiled or joked. Because we worked right next to each other, it forced me to get to know her. I found out she wasn't mean at all. She was just unhappy at the moment with her life. She was extremely patient and always asked me questions about myself. Also, did you ever meet someone that looked like a nice person and at thought they were someone you would want to become friends with, only to discover later that they weren't as nice as they looked?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well this is why I love blogging. I love reading other people's blogs and reading the comments I get! Maybe someday I'll post some pictures of my family.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-8235289095694867271?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/8235289095694867271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=8235289095694867271' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/8235289095694867271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/8235289095694867271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2007/12/posting-pictures-on-your-blog.html' title='Posting Pictures on Your Blog'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-5028610632854885386</id><published>2007-12-03T10:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:34.230-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sick kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='sick bed'/><title type='text'>Sick Kids and the Sick Bed</title><content type='html'>I hate Monday mornings. Even though I don't have a job to go to, I still have to go to bed earlier Sunday nights and get up early to get the kids ready for school. Last night I was up late on the computer, as usual, so when my 14 year old came in my room at 6:15 and said she was so tired and had a headache, I secretly was happy to be able to go back to sleep for another hour. "That's why I hate sleepovers!", I told her. "You never get enough sleep! You're not going to have another one for a very long time." I let her go back to sleep for 2 more hours and decided to just take her to school late. Yes, I still have to get up with her. I want to make sure her clothes match good enough, she doesn't forget anything, her hair is neat, and make sure she gets out the door in time to catch the bus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At 7:15 my 11 year old walked my room. "Mom, I feel like I'm going to throw up." "Well, get in the bathroom then!" He didn't throw up, but did not feel well. At 7:50 I woke up my 7 year old for school. "Time to get up." "OK. Hey, why is (11 year old) still here?" "He doesn't feel well." Suddenly 7 year old, AKA the spirited child who REALLY hates school says, "Mom, I don't feel well either." "Well, you still have to go to school." My 7 year old hates going to school SO much, so I like to wake him up early enough, so that he has a little free time for himself, and he doesn't have to rush, and I don't have to yell. Well, with the other kids at home, my whole morning routine was off. He was talking to everyone, slowing himself up. Then when it was time to go he said, "Could you at least take my temperature first?" He can't bear the thought of going to school when everyone else was home. I felt his forehead, "You're fine", then said the words I try NOT to say in the morning, "HURRY UP!".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got 7 year old and 14 year old off to school. The 11 year old is staying home. That's OK, though. He doesn't miss much school.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When my sister and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;I were&lt;/span&gt; sick when we were kids, we got the treat of sleeping in our parent's room on their couch. My mom could keep an eye on us all night and catch our throw up in "the bucket". After I got married and we moved into our 2nd house , we only had 2 kids and 3 bedrooms. Then we had our 3rd child and we just let the boys share the bigger bedroom. Four years later I found out I was expecting baby #4. Now was the perfect time to put the addition on. I wanted my new bedroom large enough to put a couch in it. One person told us, "Why would you put a couch in your room? That's such a waste!" She never had kids, so she didn't know what it was like watching them all night when they are sick. Our couch is the greatest thing! It serves as the "sick bed", extra living room for watching &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;tv&lt;/span&gt;, study room, nap time getaway, and a place to have a discussion with my husband for a couple minutes until the kids find us. I don't know how we ever lived without one!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R1Q2P8PMSgI/AAAAAAAAADY/P-TxoB9ON5w/s1600-R/Kats+14th+birthday+025.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139792722232363522" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R1Q2P8PMSgI/AAAAAAAAADY/knonzAgMBlI/s200/Kats+14th+birthday+025.jpg" 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/4663633665226912327-5028610632854885386?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/5028610632854885386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=5028610632854885386' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/5028610632854885386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/5028610632854885386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2007/12/sick-kids-and-sick-bed.html' title='Sick Kids and the Sick Bed'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R1Q2P8PMSgI/AAAAAAAAADY/knonzAgMBlI/s72-c/Kats+14th+birthday+025.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-4982526641014975320</id><published>2007-12-01T23:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:34.343-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthdays'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='teenager'/><title type='text'>Happy Birthday!</title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5139237679313734114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R1I9cMPMSeI/AAAAAAAAADI/Xmsd6KRFthE/s200/Picture+173.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Today was my daughter's birthday. She turned 14. It's hard to believe I'm now the mother of a 14 year old! I remember going to the hospital early in the morning on December 1, 1993. I knew I was going to have the baby, but when I actually DID have her I thought, "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;OMG&lt;/span&gt;! I just had a baby!" It was the best day of my life. I cried so hard that when I called my mom, she thought the baby had died! &lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I've heard so many people say, "Just wait til they become teenagers!". I have to say I agreed with that, but only for a very short time with her. I think when she first entered middle school, she tested the boundaries a little. She was trying to find a place to fit in. I nipped that in the bud! Now, in 8&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; grade, she is very sure of herself, has lots of friends (nice ones), gets the best grades she ever had, and is a very good girl. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I love her being a teenager. I'm a little sad to see her grow up, but I have 3 younger kids to still watch grow up. Now she's old enough to have lots of conversations with me. We like to watch the same &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;tv&lt;/span&gt; shows and movies. She's like my best friend! "Just wait til they become teenagers" has a great connotation for me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;We got her a digital camera and let her have about 10 people over for a party. They all had a great time. It's a good thing we have a basement, though. We put them down there and shut the door tight! They were SO loud! Now I'm letting two of the girls sleep over. I just hope they sleep and don't keep me up. It was a great day, and these supposedly difficult teen years are only getting better.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-4982526641014975320?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/4982526641014975320/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=4982526641014975320' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/4982526641014975320'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/4982526641014975320'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2007/12/happy-birthday.html' title='Happy Birthday!'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R1I9cMPMSeI/AAAAAAAAADI/Xmsd6KRFthE/s72-c/Picture+173.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-4384120245057779658</id><published>2007-11-30T21:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-30T22:16:27.716-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quality time'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='God'/><title type='text'>I'm happy God Made Us</title><content type='html'>Just a quick story to tell you about what my 7 year old said to us today:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Son - "Aren't you happy God made us?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Me - "Yes, I'm happy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Son - "I'm happy, too."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then we started talking about where would we be if God didn't make us. Son said we wouldn't even know we weren't here! We wouldn't be anywhere!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So sweet. I guess he was having a good day, and not, "the worst day of my life!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom always said it's not quality time that's important, it's quantity! I wouldn't have had that moment if I wasn't around him enough (we were just cleaning up from dinner). Also, I think, any time with your kids is quality time. Just riding in the car, eating dinner, helping kids with their homework, putting them to bed, EVERYTHING can be quality time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-4384120245057779658?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/4384120245057779658/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=4384120245057779658' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/4384120245057779658'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/4384120245057779658'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2007/11/im-happy-god-made-us.html' title='I&apos;m happy God Made Us'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-7650905935362664440</id><published>2007-11-29T23:03:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-29T23:43:24.641-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fear of dentist'/><title type='text'>Fear of the Dentist</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/30/55412493_fe361e0e08.jpg?v=0"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/30/55412493_fe361e0e08.jpg?v=0" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Reclining in the chair, listening to the easy rock music, opening my mouth so wide that I get lockjaw, scraping my sensitive teeth, shots of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Novocain&lt;/span&gt;, dry lips, drilling my teeth, numbness in my mouth, finally, having to pay for this torture!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've always hated going to the dentist. That's why it's so easy to say I'm just too busy to go. Before I got married, I had a great dentist. For being my least favorite thing in the world to do, he was at least very nice and very fast. After I got married, I decided to see my husband's dentist. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;OMG&lt;/span&gt;! He was actually mean! He was rude. He said I had a cavity on the back on my wisdom tooth, so I should just make an appointment to have all my wisdom teeth removed. What? &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Yah&lt;/span&gt; right! I went back to dentist #1. He looked at that cavity and told me no problem, it would just take a minute to fill. Thank You!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few years went by. I still didn't see the dentist. With our new insurance plan, dentist #1 wasn't listed as a dentist I could see. Also new dentist #1 was more expensive. I decided to see a dentist from the plan. Terrible again. I was about 35 at the time, and this was the first time in my life that they made my gums bleed. I even took better care of my teeth. When they told me to spit, pure blood! So gross. I could taste it. I asked them why that happened, and they said most people's gums bleed at the dentist. OK, by!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few years went by again. This time I chipped my front tooth. I actually got a headache thinking about just going back. What would they do? Is it going to hurt? Will it look bad? I didn't care about money this time. I had to see dentist #1. (Actually he did accept our insurance. We just had to pay whatever the insurance wouldn't cover.) He fixed my tooth super fast and was so positive! No problem. I love him!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just went to dentist #1 today for a cleaning and two fillings. I still hate going. I get tense while they're working on me. When I was leaving, I was actually freezing and shaking from the stress! The one thing good that came out of this? My front tooth cracking forced me to go and made me realize that I'll never see another dentist again. I wouldn't care what it cost. I love my dentist! Please don't retire! He IS starting to get a little old. I don't know if I could ever go to the dentist again!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-7650905935362664440?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/7650905935362664440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=7650905935362664440' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/7650905935362664440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/7650905935362664440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2007/11/fear-of-dentist.html' title='Fear of the Dentist'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-2231615717234072990</id><published>2007-11-28T21:13:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:34.635-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='oxyclean'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='laundry'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lists'/><title type='text'>Laundry, the Neverending Job</title><content type='html'>There are some jobs that I do around the house that I really hate to do. Some of these are - cleaning up the kitchen, picking up endless toys, cleaning my bathroom (it takes too long), and weeding the garden (I don't like getting dirt in my nails). One job that I don't mind doing is laundry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a pretty good system going for having a large family. First, I do laundry six days a week. Each of the kids room has their own hamper and they are responsible for putting their own dirty laundry in it. Every morning after I get the kids off to school, I collect all their laundry and throw it down the laundry chute to the laundry room in the basement. By doing it every morning, I can quickly sort it, throw in a load or two, and fold what's left in the dryer from yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For me, it's a satisfying job. I love the feeling of accomplishment of folding the clean clothes and putting it in our closets. I wash everything a certain way - white clothes in hot with a scoop of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;oxyclean&lt;/span&gt;, soaking for 15 minutes, and a double rinse - &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;darks&lt;/span&gt; in cold on a gentle and shorter cycle - my shirts in warm and hand dry. That's part of the reason I like to do it myself. No one knows exactly how I like it done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The part I DO hate is when there is an endless amount of laundry to do that I have to do it all day long. This I why I have laundry rules:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Only throw DIRTY clothes in the hamper. If your jeans look clean, wear them again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Don't throw towels in the hamper. Hang them back up in the bathroom and I will collect them when I think they need to be washed. (Otherwise the kids would throw them in the hamper every day because it's easier than hanging it back up.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Hang your pajamas up on a hook every morning. I decide when to wash those too. (Once again, it's easier for the kids to just throw them in the hamper. They would never be able to keep track of how many days they wore them anyway.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Don't throw your socks in the hamper inside out. It's a disgusting job to have to flip &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;everyone's&lt;/span&gt; smelly dirty socks the right way before they go in the wash. Yuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If the kids do it right, I collect the laundry out of their hamper and wash it. (I even put it away for them if it's not too much.) But if they throw down clean clothes, for example, they have to help me fold it all and put ALL the laundry away. If I find socks that are inside out, the person of the first inside out sock that I find has to flip all the socks the right way. They love doing this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These rules work out really well, most of the time. Imagine how I felt this morning when saw what was waiting for me in the laundry room:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R04jhIKa7wI/AAAAAAAAAC4/9VFSoaWpjzU/s1600-h/blog+pics+115.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5138083276910161666" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R04jhIKa7wI/AAAAAAAAAC4/9VFSoaWpjzU/s200/blog+pics+115.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Now who threw down all these clothes! (I thought I was all caught up yesterday?)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-2231615717234072990?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/2231615717234072990/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=2231615717234072990' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/2231615717234072990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/2231615717234072990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2007/11/there-are-some-jobs-that-i-do-around.html' title='Laundry, the Neverending Job'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R04jhIKa7wI/AAAAAAAAAC4/9VFSoaWpjzU/s72-c/blog+pics+115.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-8620862053421005226</id><published>2007-11-26T23:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-27T09:28:12.732-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='spirited child'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bible stories'/><title type='text'>The Kids Are Fighting! (again)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://www1.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/1721346/2/istockphoto_1721346_kids_fighting.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://www1.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/1721346/2/istockphoto_1721346_kids_fighting.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Today was the last day off of school for my kids from their Thanksgiving break. I actually love it when they're home. They talk to me all day. They want me to play games and watch movies with them. I truly enjoy being with all 4 of them. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Today was not as fun as I usually like it to be. I had a ton of things to do (go to the library, the bank, piles of laundry, make some phone calls, etc). This is when the problems started. I gave each of them a job to do. 13 year old - clean up the kitchen, 11 year old - pick up his room and basement, 7 year old - pick up his room and the basement, also, and 3 year old - help clean up the basement. Then I went to go on some errands. My phone rings, "Mom, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;everyone's&lt;/span&gt; fighting and no one's cleaning up!" "OK", I try to say as quietly as I can in the library, "Tell (11 year old) to finish cleaning up and you play a game with (3 year old)". "OK. Can we make brownies?" "YES!" I figured it would give them something to do that wouldn't involve fighting. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I got home, not too bad. Everything was pretty clean, but, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;evertime&lt;/span&gt; I went to do another job of mine, FIGHTING! 3 year old is screaming in the basement. 7 year old is teasing her. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I decided to take a breath and play with 3 year old. It's amazing how good they are when you give them your complete attention and play with them. But, how do you get anything done? OK, everything is calmed down now, back to making dinner. More fighting! Do you ever have a day that you can't wait until all the kids are in bed asleep and the house is quiet? I couldn't wait today. This was suppose to be our fun day!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I hate to call 7 year old difficult. It sounds so negative. I prefer &lt;em&gt;spirited&lt;/em&gt;. It's a prettier word. It seems like the fighting matches always happen to be in the room that he is in! TIME FOR BED! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;At the end of the night, husband grabs the 3 year old and heads off to bed. I got the 7 year old. &lt;em&gt;Hurry up. Don't do that. It's late. Get in bed. &lt;/em&gt;We finally are actually getting the kids IN their beds. I take a deep breath, "OK, do you want to read to me tonight? I'll find a book for you." The spirited child replies, "No mom. I want you to read me a Bible story." My frustration is gone. The kid who was driving me crazy all day wants me to read his favorite Bible stories to him! "Yes, I can read two." Gotta love him! This is when I sit back and think about what went wrong today, and make sure tomorrow will be better.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-8620862053421005226?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/8620862053421005226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=8620862053421005226' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/8620862053421005226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/8620862053421005226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2007/11/kids-are-fighting-again.html' title='The Kids Are Fighting! (again)'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-4366129542358451995</id><published>2007-11-25T16:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:34.805-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='date night at home'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='honey mustard dressing'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='recipes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grilled pork tenderloin'/><title type='text'>At Home Date Night</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R0nt3YKa7uI/AAAAAAAAACo/xWRChniBqgs/s1600-h/blog+pics+107.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5136898385627508450" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R0nt3YKa7uI/AAAAAAAAACo/xWRChniBqgs/s320/blog+pics+107.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; My husband and I love to go out to eat and see movies. The problem is it's expensive and we have to find a babysitter. That's why we only go out once in a great while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead of going out a lot, my husband and I have a date night at home every Saturday night. First we make dinner for the kids, usually something simple that they enjoy (sloppy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;joes&lt;/span&gt;, hot dogs, hamburgers, ham, etc). Then when the kids are done eating and go off to play or watch &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;TV&lt;/span&gt;, my husband makes some cocktails and we cook a nice meal together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still try to make something simple, but I make it a little more special than our weekday meals. Last night we made grilled pork tenderloin, butternut squash, and salad with honey mustard dressing. It was so good. This is a great meal that doesn't cost too much and is simple to cook! We get everything ready, put the youngest to bed, then grill and eat in peace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Grilled Pork Tenderloin&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 pork tenderloin&lt;br /&gt;olive oil&lt;br /&gt;garlic powder&lt;br /&gt;oregano&lt;br /&gt;salt&lt;br /&gt;pepper&lt;br /&gt;crushed red pepper flakes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just rub as much of the spices as you like on the tenderloin and grill until pink in the center!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Butternut Squash&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 butternut squash&lt;br /&gt;butter&lt;br /&gt;maple syrup&lt;br /&gt;salt&lt;br /&gt;pepper&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cut the squash in half and scoop out seeds. Lay skin side down in baking pan with a little water on the bottom. Put butter, a little maple syrup, salt, and pepper on top. Cover with tin foil and bake 350' until soft (about 1-1/2 hour). Scoop the flesh of the squash out into a bowl to serve.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Honey Mustard Dressing&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 cup olive oil&lt;br /&gt;1/3 cup apple cider vinegar&lt;br /&gt;1/2 cup sugar&lt;br /&gt;3 tablespoons prepared mustard&lt;br /&gt;1 teaspoon salt&lt;br /&gt;1/2 teaspoon pepper&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Whisk&lt;/span&gt; ingredients together and pour on salad when serving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For the salad I used Boston &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;bibb&lt;/span&gt; lettuce, a little red onion, 1 tomato, sweet red pepper, crispy bacon, and shredded cheddar cheese. I pour lots of honey mustard dressing on it so I have plenty to dip my pork into. So simple. So delicious!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-4366129542358451995?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/4366129542358451995/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=4366129542358451995' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/4366129542358451995'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/4366129542358451995'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2007/11/at-home-date-night.html' title='At Home Date Night'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R0nt3YKa7uI/AAAAAAAAACo/xWRChniBqgs/s72-c/blog+pics+107.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4663633665226912327.post-5092782693624271272</id><published>2007-11-23T23:26:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-12T01:15:34.997-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christmas shopping'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Black Friday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Thanksgiving'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lists'/><title type='text'>Crazy Black Friday</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R0erWIKa7rI/AAAAAAAAACQ/KMcAcbvIEH0/s1600-h/black+friday.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5136262296676003506" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 311px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 205px" height="300" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R0erWIKa7rI/AAAAAAAAACQ/KMcAcbvIEH0/s400/black+friday.jpg" width="367" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; It's the day after Thanksgiving, aka &lt;strong&gt;Black Friday&lt;/strong&gt;. Did any of you dare to go out? I can't believe I did, and I'm not sure I will again next year! I didn't go out at 5:00 AM. I waited until 8:00 AM. I don't know if it was any better. I took the back roads there. Not much traffic. I pulled in Target. Found a parking spot right away. Walked in the store and an employee handed me a cart. "Not bad", I thought. I did notice the lines were a little long. As I headed to the back of the store I wondered why all these people were standing around back here. Then I realized, these were the lines! Every line stretched to the back of the store and down the aisle! How long would it take me to even stand in the line IF I even found what I was looking for?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided I may as well look to see if they had any of the digital cameras left that were on sale. I headed to electronics. What are these people standing for in the middle of the store? They were in line at the pharmacy! I found electronics. More long lines. I could barely even get around the people to find where the cameras were. I searched the shelves for the camera and couldn't figure out which one it was! I couldn't find it! Then I noticed one camera on the bottom of the shelf. It didn't seem to have a place it fit, so I didn't know the price. I hoped it was the one and got in the long line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got up to the register (about 1/2 hour later), I asked the clerk if this was the camera that was on sale. He rang it up. "Yep, it's the one. You found one?" He thought they were sold out. I guess another customer changed their mind and just left it on the bottom of the shelves, FOR ME!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got out of Target, no problem. Next, the mall. I figured luck was on my side today and I had to try Bon Ton to use my $10 gift cards. I got the only parking spot around (lucky again). Then I headed to The Bon. I searched around for the best deals. I got two sweaters, a pair of boots, and a shirt. Then I waited in another long line. When I got up to the counter the clerk informed me my gift cards were not good on any of my purchases. "You've got to be kidding! After I stood in this line!" Everyone around me was saying the same thing. The coupons were not good on: door busters, clearance sales, certain name brand items, basically everything that would have been a good deal. They would be better off listing the items the coupons were good for. Anyone else have this problem today?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, here's what I learned about how to have a stress free Black Friday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Plan on going to only one store for the items you really want, and get there early enough before they sell out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Take a friend with you. One person gets in the line as soon as you get inside while the other picks up the items.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Take a deep breath and realize that even though it's a very long line, at least you'll only be standing in one line if you listen to me and only go to one store.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. While in line, start up a conversation with the people in line in front of you and behind you. It makes the time go by faster and it's interesting to hear the other shoppers experience. It was funny. We all felt like we were friends! We discussed other stores we were at, what deals we were getting. A few people were even offering their extra coupons to the other people in line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. If you're not looking for the doorbuster sales, shop at 6:00 PM. It's amazing how the traffic dies down when the tummies start to rumble.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Last, but not least, don't shop at Bon Ton. The sales are not as good as they seem!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Was anyone else brave enough to go out today? If you did, what was your experience like?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4663633665226912327-5092782693624271272?l=mariamommyof4.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/feeds/5092782693624271272/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4663633665226912327&amp;postID=5092782693624271272' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/5092782693624271272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4663633665226912327/posts/default/5092782693624271272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://mariamommyof4.blogspot.com/2007/11/crazy-black-friday.html' title='Crazy Black Friday'/><author><name>Maria</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13064271466583841630</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='28' height='32' src='http://bp0.blogger.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R58n8rIVppI/AAAAAAAAAKc/JrUda0DUeRs/S220/marina2.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_KPuWMtwSR-s/R0erWIKa7rI/AAAAAAAAACQ/KMcAcbvIEH0/s72-c/black+friday.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry></feed>
