<?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:blogger='http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008' 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-3480959417250365289</id><updated>2026-03-22T02:12:27.926-05:00</updated><category term="Matthew"/><category term="David"/><category term="Amber"/><category term="Matt"/><category term="Family Fun"/><category term="Shenanigans"/><category term="news"/><category term="Birthday"/><category term="Family History"/><category term="Nana"/><category term="Pop-Pop"/><category term="Cub Scouts"/><category term="Pregnancy"/><category term="Friends"/><category term="Out of the mouths of babes"/><category term="Table Talk"/><category term="Creativity"/><category term="Emma"/><category term="Grandparents"/><category term="Pets"/><category term="Spring"/><category term="gardening"/><category term="Atom"/><category term="Christmas"/><category term="Easter"/><category term="Halloween"/><category term="Happy Birthday"/><category term="Mother&#39;s Day"/><category term="Nephews"/><category term="School"/><category term="battle wounds"/><category term="crafts"/><title type='text'>My Life as Mrs. Goob</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3480959417250365289/posts/default?redirect=false'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3480959417250365289/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false'/><author><name>Amber Shoemaker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05474020435064684483</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih6zbU9U0VKi6YfZB5vVyczGYYDRG3N_LR7g_jSwsg1dgQ-1g5VNkm0Lzly2dYrXO1tKIuZ4U2x1g4kqs9vAT_ArSSqM74MVYHTPgSNlRm0GNEeDH9-Gk8eQMj37DzNxI/s220/229592_10150563142715230_635525229_18505513_5928051_n.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>132</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3480959417250365289.post-999437516859587569</id><published>2014-07-23T11:43:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2014-07-23T14:05:50.058-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Amber"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="David"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Emma"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family History"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Grandparents"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Matt"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Matthew"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Nana"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Pop-Pop"/><title type='text'>May 30, 1949-July 8, 2014</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: large;&quot;&gt;Wandall Jim Hughes.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;To his friends, he was Jim.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;To his close family he was lovingly called Chubby.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;To his 2 children, he was Dad or Pops.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&amp;nbsp;His 6 grandchildren called him Pop-Pop.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;And to the love of his life he was….more than just words.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;He was a proud Pop-Pop. We would joke that when we were all gathered together was when he was most relaxed. Because every single time, he would fall asleep.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;I was his right hand man. He was my best friend. He often called on me to do things around the house that he&amp;nbsp;couldn&#39;t. &amp;nbsp;We loved to go fishing together. We spent many nights on the boat catching fish&amp;nbsp;and talking. &amp;nbsp;I was proud to have him as a father, he was proud of me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;My wife, Adrienne was like a daughter to him. He treated her like one, often teasing her. Saying she always took the longest to order when we went out to eat. He loved when she would bring over one of her homemade pies.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;I gave him 3 grandchildren:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Jayden Wandall Hughes- Age:10&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Ava Renee Hughes- Age: 6&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;And&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Wyatt Owen Wandall Hughes-Age: 9 months&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;My sister Amber was his baby girl. She was fortunate enough to share his cheesy sense of humor and they always joked around together. He loved her cooking and was always in awe of all the things she could do. From crafting and sewing to photography. He was so proud of her.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Amber is married to Matt Shoemaker. As the years passed, Matt and Jim became close. They would often sit in a quiet room and just talk. He knew Matt was good with computers and would call on him when he needed help with anything electronic.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Amber gave him 3 grandchildren:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Matthew Wandall Shoemaker-Age: 13&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;David Bowen Shoemaker-Age: 6&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;
&lt;br&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;and the latest addition to our loving family,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Emma Jo Shoemaker-Age: 6 weeks&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;He loved his nephew Clay Wuensche like a son. He was very proud of all of Clay’s accomplishments. &amp;nbsp;He would joke with Clay’s wife Christin that she was not allowed to come to the house unless she made his favorite spinach/artichoke dip. He also loved their son Patrick like a grandchild and treated him as such.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;After we were grown and out of the house, he and my Mom loved to travel. Together they explored:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Cabo St. Lucas, Mexico&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Caymen Islands&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Virginia (Jamestown)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Washington, D.C.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;Las Vegas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;And many more.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;He was an avid golfer. He went to the golf course every single day for years. He was very good and managed to get two two holes in one while they lived in Arizona.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;He loved my Mom more than anything. They were married August 28, 1971. It would have been 44 years this year.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;He was a hard working entreprenuer who had many jobs:&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;He was millwright at Alcoa.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;He owned his own bowling center, which was his dream.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;He was a real estate agent.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;And he retired with Chase Bank as an Inside Salesman.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;He had amazing charisma. He would meet someone and next thing you knew, they were talking like they had been best friends for years.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;He will be missed by many.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;
&lt;span style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;&quot;&gt;And we will never be the same without him.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br&gt;
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&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/feeds/999437516859587569/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/2014/07/may-30-1949-july-8-2014.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3480959417250365289/posts/default/999437516859587569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3480959417250365289/posts/default/999437516859587569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/2014/07/may-30-1949-july-8-2014.html' title='May 30, 1949-July 8, 2014'/><author><name>Amber Shoemaker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05474020435064684483</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih6zbU9U0VKi6YfZB5vVyczGYYDRG3N_LR7g_jSwsg1dgQ-1g5VNkm0Lzly2dYrXO1tKIuZ4U2x1g4kqs9vAT_ArSSqM74MVYHTPgSNlRm0GNEeDH9-Gk8eQMj37DzNxI/s220/229592_10150563142715230_635525229_18505513_5928051_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3480959417250365289.post-3079383027341447434</id><published>2014-06-10T00:15:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2014-06-10T08:27:46.690-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Birthday"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Emma"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Pregnancy"/><title type='text'>Emma&amp;#39;s Story</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 17px;&quot;&gt;Warning: this post is about childbirth. There is also poo talk so proceed at your own risk if you are easily grossed out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 17px;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 17px;&quot;&gt;I&#39;m writing about this experience in detail for two reasons: 1) the obvious reason. I want to document the birth of my daughter. 2) if you are considering trying the castor oil, take heed. You quite possibly may have a similar experience. Prepare yourself for the possibility of a natural birth where an epidural is not possible. Luckily, I had already been through a natural birth with Matthew so I knew what to expect. I had wanted to try for a natural birth this time because I had an epidural with David and had some complications.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 17px;&quot;&gt;Also, it&#39;s important to research the risks of using castor oil so you go into it fully informed. Apparently it is sometimes frowned upon in the medical community. Other times it is encouraged. My nurses obviously leaned toward the frowned upon side. But I won&#39;t get into that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 17px;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 17px;&quot;&gt;I had heard of the castor oil method for years. It&#39;s intended use is to treat constipation. But it&#39;s also known to naturally induce labor by causing contractions.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); &quot;&gt;My sister-in-law tried it with success with her daughter and my mother-in-law had also used it. I was wary at first, but as my induction date got closer (set for that Monday), I became more and more nervous. I just kept hearing horror story after horror story of botched inductions that ended in c-sections. So Thursday afternoon I suddenly decided I was going to try it. I even stopped and prayed to make sure this was something I should do.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); &quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); &quot;&gt;I purchased the oil and orange juice went home and took my first dose at 6pm. At 8:30pm I took another dose.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;
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&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 17px;&quot;&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 17px;&quot;&gt;
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I went into this fully aware that if my body wasn&#39;t ready to go into labor that it just wouldn&#39;t happen and I would just get tons of cramping and no baby. I had already had 3 false labors and because of that I felt my body just needed a little...nudge. Also, at my last appt I was dilated to 2cm and my cervix was described as &quot;soft.&quot; Thinking back, I remember my doctor telling me that when I did go into labor, it would probably progress pretty fast due to my cervix already being soft. But even then, I wasn&#39;t expecting things to go the way they did.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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So I waited....and waited. No diarrhea, just a few tummy gurgles. At about 10pm I decided to just go to bed. I was exhausted from not being able to sleep the night before due to contractions that stopped in the morning. I also figured nothing was going to happen and just accepted my fate that I would be facing an induction Monday morning.&lt;/div&gt;
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At 11pm I had a contraction that woke me up. So I got up and headed to the bathroom. Still no bowel movements. I didn&#39;t have any more contractions so I just went back to sleep.&lt;/div&gt;
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At 12am, the same thing. Contraction and bathroom. But nothing happened. No more contractions, so again, I went back to sleep.&lt;/div&gt;
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At 1am I woke up to an extremely painful contraction. I got up and went to the bathroom once again. (this was pretty normal for me anyways. I went to the bathroom at least 6 times in the night. Gotta love a tiny human sitting on your bladder!) Still no bowel movement. But 2 minutes later I had another contraction. And they continued. Fast and hard. They hurt like crazy! But considering they had just started I decided to just monitor them. At about 1:30am I woke my husband up due to my moaning. He took one look at me, crouched on the floor, and said &quot;We&#39;re going to the hospital. I don&#39;t care if they turn us down. You look like you&#39;re in labor.&quot; I didn&#39;t care at that point. I was in pain. I went to the bathroom and at this point the flood gates opened and my bowels completely emptied. I was relieved. I really didn&#39;t want to go to the hospital and have that happen.&lt;/div&gt;
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So we told our 13 year old we were leaving and rushed out the door. I was still having steady, painful contractions about 1-2 minutes apart. Luckily the hospital was only about 10 minutes away. That was a painful car ride. I felt every single bump in the road.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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We got to the hospital at around 2am. Got up to L&amp;amp;D and got into bed. I was dilated to 4cm. I BEGGED for an epidural! But they wanted me to fill out a ton of paperwork (even though we pre-registered) before they called the anesthesiologist. (filling out paperwork is super fun when your having extremely painful contractions *sarcasm*)&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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About 30 minutes later they checked me and I was dilated to 7cm. Literally 3 contractions later I was yelling at them that I needed to push. They told me &quot;You&#39;re only dilated to 7! You&#39;ll swell your cervix! No pushing!&quot; Well that&#39;s easier said than done and contraction after contraction I was yelling at them that I couldn&#39;t stop pushing, that my body was taking over. So the nurse checked me again and I saw her get this panicked look on her face. I said &quot;I&#39;m fully dilated, aren&#39;t I?&quot;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&quot;I don&#39;t want to tell you, just don&#39;t push!&quot; and out the door she went and returned with the doctor moments later.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
3-4 pushes later Emma was born.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;June 6, 2014&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); &quot;&gt;3:12am&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); &quot;&gt;7lbs. 6ozs.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-family: Helvetica; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969); -webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); &quot;&gt;19 3/4 inches long.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.296875); font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 17px;&quot;&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;She is absolutely perfect. I&#39;m so lucky to have the amazing kids I have. Her big brothers are already quite smitten with her, as are the rest of us.&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_bssRUso7UP_zaidxhDBD6WLe5rDLqZgEGTeBh2QdMAGjXE3BIhnXZHLrBSD1FAoscUGZ0icYQ2QKdXwAEDPM6LclfRlqQv88UrSOMP215Mu5vOi-UWVdQ104c1_jHcLy6KckuWGsHBvM/s640/blogger-image-911993843.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_bssRUso7UP_zaidxhDBD6WLe5rDLqZgEGTeBh2QdMAGjXE3BIhnXZHLrBSD1FAoscUGZ0icYQ2QKdXwAEDPM6LclfRlqQv88UrSOMP215Mu5vOi-UWVdQ104c1_jHcLy6KckuWGsHBvM/s640/blogger-image-911993843.jpg&quot;&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/feeds/3079383027341447434/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/2014/06/emmas-story.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3480959417250365289/posts/default/3079383027341447434'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3480959417250365289/posts/default/3079383027341447434'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/2014/06/emmas-story.html' title='Emma&amp;#39;s Story'/><author><name>Amber Shoemaker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05474020435064684483</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih6zbU9U0VKi6YfZB5vVyczGYYDRG3N_LR7g_jSwsg1dgQ-1g5VNkm0Lzly2dYrXO1tKIuZ4U2x1g4kqs9vAT_ArSSqM74MVYHTPgSNlRm0GNEeDH9-Gk8eQMj37DzNxI/s220/229592_10150563142715230_635525229_18505513_5928051_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_bssRUso7UP_zaidxhDBD6WLe5rDLqZgEGTeBh2QdMAGjXE3BIhnXZHLrBSD1FAoscUGZ0icYQ2QKdXwAEDPM6LclfRlqQv88UrSOMP215Mu5vOi-UWVdQ104c1_jHcLy6KckuWGsHBvM/s72-c/blogger-image-911993843.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3480959417250365289.post-7319673238758137172</id><published>2013-11-26T18:32:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2013-11-26T18:32:05.345-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Table Talk: Getting Nowhere Fast</title><content type='html'>Many of the stories my dad has told me over the years have involved his cousin Harvey. They are only 6 months apart and were thick as thieves growing up, often getting into mischief together.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This one particular instance, they were out on a pond in a little row boat, doing some fishing. They were facing each other while they fished. Suddenly one of them looked over the edge of the boat to see a snake&#39;s head popped out of the water and staring straight at them. They screamed and both started wildly paddling.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Only problem was, they were still facing each other. One was paddling one way, the other paddling the other way. In their panic, they didn&#39;t realize they were getting absolutely nowhere. When they finally realized what they were doing my dad said he looked down and there still sat the snake, staring at them. He said &quot;I swear that snake was laughing at us.&quot;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/feeds/7319673238758137172/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/2013/11/table-talk-getting-nowhere-fast.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3480959417250365289/posts/default/7319673238758137172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3480959417250365289/posts/default/7319673238758137172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/2013/11/table-talk-getting-nowhere-fast.html' title='Table Talk: Getting Nowhere Fast'/><author><name>Amber Shoemaker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05474020435064684483</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih6zbU9U0VKi6YfZB5vVyczGYYDRG3N_LR7g_jSwsg1dgQ-1g5VNkm0Lzly2dYrXO1tKIuZ4U2x1g4kqs9vAT_ArSSqM74MVYHTPgSNlRm0GNEeDH9-Gk8eQMj37DzNxI/s220/229592_10150563142715230_635525229_18505513_5928051_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3480959417250365289.post-5910265686144823336</id><published>2013-11-16T19:28:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2013-11-17T07:42:15.982-06:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family History"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Table Talk"/><title type='text'>Table Talk: The Time My Dad Chased His Cousin With a Knife.</title><content type='html'>When my dad was in his younger years, around 6 or 7, he happened to be hanging out with his cousin Linda one day. They were walking down the sidewalk when my dad suggested she jump on his back. Unfortunately she landed too far up, causing him to fall forward and scrape his head on the concrete. First he started bleeding then he started seeing red. They argued for a while, eventually making their way back to the house. Somewhere along the fight, &amp;nbsp;dad started chasing Linda through the house. They ended up in a bedroom and dad cornered Linda by a bed. He went to kick her and she moved out of the way just in time...for my dad to kick the bed instead. Just when he thought he couldn&#39;t be any more mad! Blood was boiling at this point. &quot;How dare she move! She made me kick the bed!! She should have just sat there and let me kick her!&quot; He then grabbed a big butcher knife and the story ends with him chasing her down the street, knife in hand.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
The good thing about this story is 1. He never caught her. 2. This story had been told to me once before by Linda herself. She had a glint in her eye and a smile on her lips.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
My dad told this story again tonight. As an only child, his cousins were like his siblings. Many good times and good stories have come from being with his cousins. &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/feeds/5910265686144823336/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/2013/11/table-talk-time-my-dad-chased-his.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3480959417250365289/posts/default/5910265686144823336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3480959417250365289/posts/default/5910265686144823336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/2013/11/table-talk-time-my-dad-chased-his.html' title='Table Talk: The Time My Dad Chased His Cousin With a Knife.'/><author><name>Amber Shoemaker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05474020435064684483</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih6zbU9U0VKi6YfZB5vVyczGYYDRG3N_LR7g_jSwsg1dgQ-1g5VNkm0Lzly2dYrXO1tKIuZ4U2x1g4kqs9vAT_ArSSqM74MVYHTPgSNlRm0GNEeDH9-Gk8eQMj37DzNxI/s220/229592_10150563142715230_635525229_18505513_5928051_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3480959417250365289.post-972890195852673010</id><published>2013-11-15T15:17:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2013-11-15T15:17:43.701-06:00</updated><title type='text'>You found out WHERE!?!</title><content type='html'>Here I sit, a little over 10 weeks or (2 1/2 Months) pregnant. I&#39;ve been meaning to write this down before my pregnancy brain completely wipes out the memory of how this all went down. It will happen, I just know it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It&#39;s not a terribly long story, but here it is.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I had suspected I was pregnant for a few days previously. Some things just weren&#39;t adding up. Of course, when you&#39;re trying to get pregnant, you think you&#39;re pregnant every single month. I didn&#39;t put much thought into buying the pregnancy test cause I had done it pretty much every month previously. I had gone to the store with my parents when I purchased it. On our way back we ran into traffic and came to a complete stop. It was then that I announced that I erm...needed to use the facilities. Luckily we were right next to a restaurant and were able to pull out of traffic to get to it. As I got out, I thought to myself &quot;Wouldn&#39;t it be funny if I found out I was pregnant HERE?!?&quot; I had an inkling it would be positive, but I was almost certain it would be negative. So I went ahead and grabbed my test and marched right in. I made awkward eye contact with the waitresses as I went in and made a bee-line to the ladies room.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Lo and behold it was actually positive! I couldn&#39;t believe it. I was almost frozen in place. Had an out of body experience. My body went cold all over. It had finally happened again. 7 years in between Matthew and David and now there will be 6 years in between David and this little one.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I still can&#39;t believe I found out where I did. Because I found out I was pregnant at HOOTERS!!!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I just can&#39;t make this stuff up. This is my life.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/feeds/972890195852673010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/2013/11/you-found-out-where.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3480959417250365289/posts/default/972890195852673010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3480959417250365289/posts/default/972890195852673010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/2013/11/you-found-out-where.html' title='You found out WHERE!?!'/><author><name>Amber Shoemaker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05474020435064684483</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih6zbU9U0VKi6YfZB5vVyczGYYDRG3N_LR7g_jSwsg1dgQ-1g5VNkm0Lzly2dYrXO1tKIuZ4U2x1g4kqs9vAT_ArSSqM74MVYHTPgSNlRm0GNEeDH9-Gk8eQMj37DzNxI/s220/229592_10150563142715230_635525229_18505513_5928051_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3480959417250365289.post-2485294962480959443</id><published>2013-07-19T08:32:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2013-07-19T08:32:14.758-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family History"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Nana"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Pop-Pop"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Table Talk"/><title type='text'>Table Talk: James Garner</title><content type='html'>My Mom and Dad told us about a time (before they had kids) when my mom and him were boarding a plane. They were going past first class to get to their seats when suddenly my mom stops and starts babbling uncontrollably. She had recognized James Garner sitting in his seat, reading a book.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mr. Garner looked up and seemed very startled at this woman babbling at him. It&#39;s safe to say my mom was star-struck. Unfortunately she got so nervous that she completely forgot his name!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Afterwards, when they were all seated and in the air they saw people approach Mr. Garner and ask for his autograph, which he graciously signed.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;My mom never asked for his autograph because she jokes: &quot;He probably thought I was crazy!&quot;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/feeds/2485294962480959443/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/2013/07/table-talk-james-garner.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3480959417250365289/posts/default/2485294962480959443'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3480959417250365289/posts/default/2485294962480959443'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/2013/07/table-talk-james-garner.html' title='Table Talk: James Garner'/><author><name>Amber Shoemaker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05474020435064684483</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih6zbU9U0VKi6YfZB5vVyczGYYDRG3N_LR7g_jSwsg1dgQ-1g5VNkm0Lzly2dYrXO1tKIuZ4U2x1g4kqs9vAT_ArSSqM74MVYHTPgSNlRm0GNEeDH9-Gk8eQMj37DzNxI/s220/229592_10150563142715230_635525229_18505513_5928051_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3480959417250365289.post-7928223188055675141</id><published>2013-07-18T19:23:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2013-07-18T19:38:33.474-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family History"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Nana"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Table Talk"/><title type='text'>Table Talk:The Giant</title><content type='html'>The past 8 months, my family and I have been living with my parents in Conroe, Texas. They were having some health issues and requested we come down to help. I have really enjoyed being around my family. Most nights we have dinner at the table and after everyone is done eating, the adults sit and talk. We tell stories and laugh. I really love it. Tonight we got to talking about movies. The story that follows was told by my mother, Tanna Hughes.&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
When she was a little girl, her family was driving when they came across a sign that said a movie was being filmed up ahead. So her daddy just drove on up and parked the car right outside a tent they had set up. She mentions that this was a time where people didn&#39;t make such a fuss over celebrities and movies being made. They were the only ones there, beside the crew and actors.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
The crew showed them around and let her mom sit in Liz Taylor&#39;s chair! Afterwards, the cast came over. Rock Hudson kissed her mother on the cheek and she just about fell over! She thought he was just the bees knees.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
They also got to meet a very young (approx. 18-19 years old) Liz Taylor. She said she remembers her being very shy about coming to meet them.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I love hearing these stories my parents share with us.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/feeds/7928223188055675141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/2013/07/tales-from-table-giant.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3480959417250365289/posts/default/7928223188055675141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3480959417250365289/posts/default/7928223188055675141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/2013/07/tales-from-table-giant.html' title='Table Talk:The Giant'/><author><name>Amber Shoemaker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05474020435064684483</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih6zbU9U0VKi6YfZB5vVyczGYYDRG3N_LR7g_jSwsg1dgQ-1g5VNkm0Lzly2dYrXO1tKIuZ4U2x1g4kqs9vAT_ArSSqM74MVYHTPgSNlRm0GNEeDH9-Gk8eQMj37DzNxI/s220/229592_10150563142715230_635525229_18505513_5928051_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3480959417250365289.post-5362691153886779634</id><published>2013-05-10T22:02:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2013-05-11T17:12:34.136-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Birthday"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="David"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family History"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Pregnancy"/><title type='text'>The Story of David</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-size: x-large;&quot;&gt;David Bowen Shoemaker&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt; was born on May 11th, 2008.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
Tomorrow he will be 5 years old.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I realized I had never written out his birth story. I still need to because right now I want to write about my pregnancy with him. Let me tell you....it was a crazy ride!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It all started when Matt decided to join the National Guard. He had talked about wanting to join for years. But we had Matthew and he was still quite young and I was afraid he would miss out on all his firsts so I never gave him my consent.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
From the time Matthew was 3 we had been trying for baby #2. For years nothing happened. I knew I could get pregnant, I got pregnant so easily with Matthew. I just couldn&#39;t figure out why it was taking me so long to conceive again.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Matthew was 6 when Matt brought up wanting to join the Army again. We were having lunch at the local pizza shop in Maryville, MO. At the time I realized I didn&#39;t want to hold him back from his dream and Matthew was getting older so I told him to do it, join the Army. I told him we&#39;d just try again when he got back. I laugh just thinking about that now because that&#39;s not how it turned out at all.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Matt left for basic training on Matthew&#39;s 7th birthday. With basic training and A.I.T. (where they train him for the job he had in the National Guard) he would be gone for 8 months. So we decided to stay with my parents in Arizona while he was gone. I knew having him be gone that long would be hard but I really had no idea just how hard it would be.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
About 2 weeks into the 8 month stay I start complaining to my sister-in-law, Adrienne, &amp;nbsp;about having body aches. She instantly perks up with &quot;You are pregnant!&quot; I just brush her off because we had been trying for over 3 years. I was certain I was not pregnant. A couple of weeks (if not days) later she bought me some pregnancy tests. I just rolled my eyes. I told her &quot;fine, I&#39;ll take these just to prove you wrong.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Well, imagine my surprise when I get back to my parents house, take the test and it shows up POSITIVE!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I was elated. I couldn&#39;t believe it was actually happening...finally! I then realized that Matt would miss my entire pregnancy and possibly the birth of our second child. What a roller coaster of emotions that was!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Later that day I picked up Matthew from school and told him in the school parking lot. His reaction? &quot;I&#39;m not changing diapers.&quot; {He totally did though.} He had been asking for a baby sibling for a while and I was so happy to finally give him one.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In the end Matt was able to see me 4 times during my pregnancy. Once when he graduated from basic training. (I was only a couple months along) Another time when we found out we were having another bouncing baby boy. Again when I was about 6 months along. And finally in the end he made it home 48 hours before I went into labor.&lt;br /&gt;
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That last week or so before he made it home were some of the hardest days of my life. I wanted him with me for the birth so very badly. He was there, and with his help I was able to give birth to the best Mother&#39;s Day present I could ever ask for.&lt;br /&gt;
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David was born healthy and screaming at 8lbs. 15oz. The joke was if he hadn&#39;t pooped on the doctor he would have been an even 9lbs.&lt;br /&gt;
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Now here we are, 5 years later. Our life wouldn&#39;t be the same without our David. He has brought so much joy {and mischief} to our lives.&lt;br /&gt;
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Happy Birthday baby boy. I love you.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/feeds/5362691153886779634/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/2013/05/the-story-of-david.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3480959417250365289/posts/default/5362691153886779634'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3480959417250365289/posts/default/5362691153886779634'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/2013/05/the-story-of-david.html' title='The Story of David'/><author><name>Amber Shoemaker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05474020435064684483</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih6zbU9U0VKi6YfZB5vVyczGYYDRG3N_LR7g_jSwsg1dgQ-1g5VNkm0Lzly2dYrXO1tKIuZ4U2x1g4kqs9vAT_ArSSqM74MVYHTPgSNlRm0GNEeDH9-Gk8eQMj37DzNxI/s220/229592_10150563142715230_635525229_18505513_5928051_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3480959417250365289.post-1267754403626218564</id><published>2013-03-15T00:32:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2013-03-15T00:32:52.754-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Journey to Health</title><content type='html'>I think it&#39;s safe to say I have struggled with my weight my entire adult life. I probably would have struggled with it during my teen years, but I&#39;ll be honest...I did drugs. So eating was not a priority to me, therefore the weight stayed off. It wasn&#39;t until I became pregnant with my now 12 year old son that the weight started piling on. I did not make healthy eating choices. It was from then on that I started the terrible habit of eating for comfort. I would eat if I was happy. I would eat if I was sad. I would eat if I was confused about a problem. I always thought everything could be solved with food. I self&amp;nbsp;sabotaged. I really wanted to lose weight but deep down I hated myself for the way I looked therefore I punished myself with more food. It was a vicious cycle.&lt;br /&gt;
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This continued for years. I am now in my early 30&#39;s an have finally found myself in a place where I just want to change. I&#39;m tired of feeling the way I do. I know the only way I&#39;m going to be able to change is to end that vicious cycle.&lt;br /&gt;
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So on New Years Day 2013 I started going to the gym.&lt;br /&gt;
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I have not gone everyday. But I have gone quite a lot since then. I take Yoga at least once a week and I try to get my cardio in by walking on the treadmill for 30 minutes a day. I am proud to say that just the other day...I actually jogged. I was so excited, I started looking around at the other people at the gym. I just wanted to scream at them &quot;DID YOU SEE WHAT I JUST DID!!!&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
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I know I have a long road ahead of me. I try not to pay too much attention to that blasted scale. With my thyroid disease, it doesn&#39;t want to budge much anyways. So I&#39;ve been paying attention to how all this exercise is making me feel.&lt;br /&gt;
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To tell you the truth, at first I hurt. A lot. For a good month or so I was constantly in pain. My muscles hated me. I could hardly walk one day. But I pushed through it. Yes, I am still sore most days. But I FEEL stronger. I can walk to the park with my boys without feeling like I&#39;m going to die when I finally get there. And that&#39;s why I&#39;m doing all of this. I want to have a healthier life. I want to be able to play with my boys. I want to give them the mother they deserve. I just wasn&#39;t doing that before.&lt;br /&gt;
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This is the beginning of my journey to a healthier me.&lt;br /&gt;
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I&#39;m not there...but I&#39;m on my way.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/feeds/1267754403626218564/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/2013/03/journey-to-health.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3480959417250365289/posts/default/1267754403626218564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3480959417250365289/posts/default/1267754403626218564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/2013/03/journey-to-health.html' title='Journey to Health'/><author><name>Amber Shoemaker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05474020435064684483</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih6zbU9U0VKi6YfZB5vVyczGYYDRG3N_LR7g_jSwsg1dgQ-1g5VNkm0Lzly2dYrXO1tKIuZ4U2x1g4kqs9vAT_ArSSqM74MVYHTPgSNlRm0GNEeDH9-Gk8eQMj37DzNxI/s220/229592_10150563142715230_635525229_18505513_5928051_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3480959417250365289.post-5749078805589580316</id><published>2012-09-29T12:12:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-09-29T12:12:30.950-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Gun Safety &amp; Target Practice</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
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This morning we went out with 2 other home schooling families to learn about gun safety and to do a little target practice. I had only shot a gun 1 other time in my entire life so I was pretty hesitant to get out there. But I did it, and {SUPRISE} I was actually a pretty good shot!&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/feeds/5749078805589580316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/2012/09/gun-safety-target-practice.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3480959417250365289/posts/default/5749078805589580316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3480959417250365289/posts/default/5749078805589580316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/2012/09/gun-safety-target-practice.html' title='Gun Safety &amp; Target Practice'/><author><name>Amber Shoemaker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05474020435064684483</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih6zbU9U0VKi6YfZB5vVyczGYYDRG3N_LR7g_jSwsg1dgQ-1g5VNkm0Lzly2dYrXO1tKIuZ4U2x1g4kqs9vAT_ArSSqM74MVYHTPgSNlRm0GNEeDH9-Gk8eQMj37DzNxI/s220/229592_10150563142715230_635525229_18505513_5928051_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3480959417250365289.post-4914201029737574207</id><published>2012-06-20T21:20:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-06-20T21:43:38.737-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="David"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Shenanigans"/><title type='text'>The Marshmallow Experiment</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
I have to give credit where credit is due. Matthew found this experiment on Youtube and came to me asking if we could try it on David.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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Obviously I jumped right on that bandwagon!&lt;/div&gt;
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It starts off kind of rough. I had a hard time trying to explain it to him what he was supposed to do and after watching it I realized I explained it kind of wrong.&lt;/div&gt;
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But either way the end result is pretty funny.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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If you don&#39;t know what the &quot;marshmallow experiment&quot; is I&#39;ll explain it briefly before you watch the video.&lt;/div&gt;
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You take a child, preferably a young child, and you give them a marshmallow. You tell them they can eat this one now or wait 5 minutes and get another marshmallow.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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Train a camera on them, leave and let the fun begin!!&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span id=&quot;goog_543901887&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span id=&quot;goog_543901888&quot;&gt;&lt;/span&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/feeds/4914201029737574207/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/2012/06/marshmallow-experiment.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3480959417250365289/posts/default/4914201029737574207'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3480959417250365289/posts/default/4914201029737574207'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/2012/06/marshmallow-experiment.html' title='The Marshmallow Experiment'/><author><name>Amber Shoemaker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05474020435064684483</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih6zbU9U0VKi6YfZB5vVyczGYYDRG3N_LR7g_jSwsg1dgQ-1g5VNkm0Lzly2dYrXO1tKIuZ4U2x1g4kqs9vAT_ArSSqM74MVYHTPgSNlRm0GNEeDH9-Gk8eQMj37DzNxI/s220/229592_10150563142715230_635525229_18505513_5928051_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3480959417250365289.post-729929001385863790</id><published>2012-06-20T17:15:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-06-20T17:15:22.699-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="David"/><title type='text'>David&#39;s Story</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
While going through my previous posts I found this draft that I had not finished. So I figured I&#39;d go ahead and upload the whole&amp;nbsp;shebang.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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These were taken at the Armory Christmas party last year.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEi22N6jXvniYi98LFznv5WzSLYWjmXxVE5NPYzk9YLKJbGyOjsCv0EzKCIiDZ-pJA_kDCYgxZ4NoOqVf-55DoXUHjdqTyP7KWKYl3p15wBJGuOqQTubTiAZaQ08p23OqCyuVKWwsoD1B8/s1600/100_0784.JPG&quot; onblur=&quot;try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img alt=&quot;&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643423192028117346&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEi22N6jXvniYi98LFznv5WzSLYWjmXxVE5NPYzk9YLKJbGyOjsCv0EzKCIiDZ-pJA_kDCYgxZ4NoOqVf-55DoXUHjdqTyP7KWKYl3p15wBJGuOqQTubTiAZaQ08p23OqCyuVKWwsoD1B8/s400/100_0784.JPG&quot; style=&quot;display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 226px;&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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I&#39;m not really sure what I was going for when I put this together.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguKuZcyjnd3ZdxwgfadxakfBKMzPdQxxUZMAD1P0xwjxf-PG4rvRupWjlJNdwG4unxsvAoy-rNbEVVWr0J_sfSEkDn7oOhYQi_deTotqyzkk_Uh3NV7EflGtIvvnZPLqX5i27dcW5Egfi3/s1600/100_0783.JPG&quot; onblur=&quot;try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img alt=&quot;&quot; border=&quot;0&quot; id=&quot;BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643423190618328658&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguKuZcyjnd3ZdxwgfadxakfBKMzPdQxxUZMAD1P0xwjxf-PG4rvRupWjlJNdwG4unxsvAoy-rNbEVVWr0J_sfSEkDn7oOhYQi_deTotqyzkk_Uh3NV7EflGtIvvnZPLqX5i27dcW5Egfi3/s400/100_0783.JPG&quot; style=&quot;display: block; height: 400px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 226px;&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&amp;nbsp;I think I remember that I was going to make up a story to go a long with the pictures.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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This last picture cracks me up. I&#39;m pretty sure this started the whole thing.&lt;/div&gt;
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Moral of the story: Don&#39;t mess with this boy while he&#39;s eating or he will give you this face.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/feeds/729929001385863790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/2012/06/davids-story.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3480959417250365289/posts/default/729929001385863790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3480959417250365289/posts/default/729929001385863790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/2012/06/davids-story.html' title='David&#39;s Story'/><author><name>Amber Shoemaker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05474020435064684483</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih6zbU9U0VKi6YfZB5vVyczGYYDRG3N_LR7g_jSwsg1dgQ-1g5VNkm0Lzly2dYrXO1tKIuZ4U2x1g4kqs9vAT_ArSSqM74MVYHTPgSNlRm0GNEeDH9-Gk8eQMj37DzNxI/s220/229592_10150563142715230_635525229_18505513_5928051_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEi22N6jXvniYi98LFznv5WzSLYWjmXxVE5NPYzk9YLKJbGyOjsCv0EzKCIiDZ-pJA_kDCYgxZ4NoOqVf-55DoXUHjdqTyP7KWKYl3p15wBJGuOqQTubTiAZaQ08p23OqCyuVKWwsoD1B8/s72-c/100_0784.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3480959417250365289.post-8426153824745432355</id><published>2012-06-01T19:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2012-06-01T19:09:49.150-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Amber"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="David"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family Fun"/><title type='text'>Storytime</title><content type='html'>I used to read to the kids every night before bed. But we have the same books and I really got tired of reading the same ones over and over and over again. (really need to get some new books)&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
It was then that I remembered we used to do story time with Matthew when he was little because we would giggle at the adorableness that would come out of his mouth.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
So I&#39;ve started back up this tradition of storytelling with David.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
We usually do the back and forth storytelling. I tell a little bit until he feels like filling in.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
This was his story the other day.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
A:Once upon a time, there was a little boy named...&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
D: DAVID!!&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
A: David and his mommy decided to go into the garden to pick some vegetables for a salad!&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
D: then they found a worm!!&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
A: yes, they found a worm and David picked it up and the worm crawled all over his arm.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
D: &amp;nbsp;then David climbed on da worm and they flew away!! (makes flying noises) &amp;nbsp;Then the worm fell out of the sky!! (AAHHHH!!!) And David broke his foot.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
A: So then his mommy picked him up and took him to the doctor to get his foot fixed. The End.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
D: Awww....Phank you Mommy.&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/feeds/8426153824745432355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/2012/06/storytime.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3480959417250365289/posts/default/8426153824745432355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3480959417250365289/posts/default/8426153824745432355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/2012/06/storytime.html' title='Storytime'/><author><name>Amber Shoemaker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05474020435064684483</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih6zbU9U0VKi6YfZB5vVyczGYYDRG3N_LR7g_jSwsg1dgQ-1g5VNkm0Lzly2dYrXO1tKIuZ4U2x1g4kqs9vAT_ArSSqM74MVYHTPgSNlRm0GNEeDH9-Gk8eQMj37DzNxI/s220/229592_10150563142715230_635525229_18505513_5928051_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3480959417250365289.post-4550664954137312662</id><published>2012-03-04T18:48:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-03-04T18:48:16.146-06:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Amber"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Birthday"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Matthew"/><title type='text'>My Lovely Purple Breakfast</title><content type='html'>Saturday was my birthday. If you remember my last birthday post, I wasn&#39;t too &amp;nbsp;thrilled on becoming a year older. It was not the case this year. I simply did not mind another birthday had snuck up me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I was pretty bummed when I found out Matt had drill the day of my birthday (Saturday) and even more bummed when I found out he had to spend the entire day and night in Kansas City and wouldn&#39;t be back until Sunday afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He made it better though.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I received a beautiful bouquet of roses.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He also organized a party with our closest friends. It was nice to sit and talk and watch little ones play.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The next day, my birthday, I got up early to drop Matt off at the armory. Somehow during the night I had developed a nasty head cold. So I came home to still sleeping children and put myself back to bed.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
At some point I hear the rustling of wakening children and thought for a moment that maybe I should get up and fix them some breakfast. But I really didn&#39;t feel good and felt better knowing there was bread and peanut butter in the house. They would have to fend for themselves until I was able to drag myself out of bed.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Much to my surprise, I was awoken to a platter of food being placed next to my head.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Matthew then very timidly said &quot;I wanted to serve you breakfast in bed.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It was so sweet. He had made a cheese omelette and toast. I was a little unsure about the omelette, it was, well...green.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Come to find out he got out the food coloring and attempted to make me a purple omelette. (Purple is my favorite color)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It was all so sweet I almost couldn&#39;t stand it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So aside from a stuffy AND runny nose (how does that happen!?!) and overall icky feeling, my birthday was absolutely PERFECT!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/feeds/4550664954137312662/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/2012/03/my-lovely-purple-breakfast.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3480959417250365289/posts/default/4550664954137312662'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3480959417250365289/posts/default/4550664954137312662'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/2012/03/my-lovely-purple-breakfast.html' title='My Lovely Purple Breakfast'/><author><name>Amber Shoemaker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05474020435064684483</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih6zbU9U0VKi6YfZB5vVyczGYYDRG3N_LR7g_jSwsg1dgQ-1g5VNkm0Lzly2dYrXO1tKIuZ4U2x1g4kqs9vAT_ArSSqM74MVYHTPgSNlRm0GNEeDH9-Gk8eQMj37DzNxI/s220/229592_10150563142715230_635525229_18505513_5928051_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3480959417250365289.post-1373133115103677450</id><published>2012-03-02T10:49:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-03-02T10:49:50.778-06:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Amber"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family History"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Pop-Pop"/><title type='text'>Lesson Learned</title><content type='html'>Another&amp;nbsp;awesomely funny story brought to you by my dad.&amp;nbsp;Before I tell it, I&#39;ll let you know how the telling of this story came about:&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
A couple of days ago I went into town to run some errands. On the way home I stopped at the gas station to refuel my car. It was windy so I grabbed my jacket and wallet as I was getting out of the car. I paid for my gas and started fueling. I put my wallet on the top of my car while I put my jacket on and told myself not to forgot it was up there. The fuel stopped pumping at 2 dollars in. I knew that I needed more gas than that so I went to adjust the pump. It was at that point that I completely forgot about my wallet. I drove on home completely oblivious that my wallet was still up there. I didn&#39;t even realize until I got home that it was gone. Luckily, just yesterday I got a call that my wallet had been found.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
So Matthew was talking to my dad on the phone the other day, telling him how I had lost my wallet. He then produced this story, which we all thought was pretty funny.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
One Sunday morning he was leaving to go to church. He had to strap a toddler Amber into the car seat, so he put his bible on top of the car. He then drove off, heading to church. As he was driving down the freeway he looked at his rear view mirror to see paper flying all over the place. Come to find out his bible was still on top of his car, but the pages were coming out one at a time.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
He spread the gospel all over town that morning.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
So now I don&#39;t feel too bad about my wallet fiasco. Apparently it&#39;s pretty common. A friend even told me she once left an entire cake on top of her car.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
But I will never, ever put my wallet on top of my car ever again. Lesson learned.&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/feeds/1373133115103677450/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/2012/03/lesson-learned.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3480959417250365289/posts/default/1373133115103677450'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3480959417250365289/posts/default/1373133115103677450'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/2012/03/lesson-learned.html' title='Lesson Learned'/><author><name>Amber Shoemaker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05474020435064684483</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih6zbU9U0VKi6YfZB5vVyczGYYDRG3N_LR7g_jSwsg1dgQ-1g5VNkm0Lzly2dYrXO1tKIuZ4U2x1g4kqs9vAT_ArSSqM74MVYHTPgSNlRm0GNEeDH9-Gk8eQMj37DzNxI/s220/229592_10150563142715230_635525229_18505513_5928051_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3480959417250365289.post-8692349280037416876</id><published>2012-02-24T10:23:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-02-24T10:23:19.896-06:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Matthew"/><title type='text'>Interview with Matthew: Age 11</title><content type='html'>A:&amp;nbsp;If you were stranded on an island and only had one kind of food to eat, what would it be?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;b&gt;M: Something healthy, probably coconuts cause that&#39;s the only thing on islands. But I don&#39;t like coconuts.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
A: What do you love most about your brother&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;b&gt;M: When he&#39;s not a pain...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
A: What makes you laugh?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;b&gt;M: When dad does funny things and it makes mom laugh.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
A: &amp;nbsp;How old are your grandparents?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;b&gt;M: Uh...85 I guess. (Off by at least 20 years, kid)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
A: What do you love most about Pop-Pop, Nana, and Grammy?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;b&gt;M: Pop-Pop- He loves me/ It makes me smile when I look at him and he&#39;s still there.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Nana- That whenever I smile at her she smiles back. It lets me know that she loves me.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Grammy: I like that she know how to make her grandchildren smile.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;b&gt;I wish I could see them more.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
A: What is the funniest thing that has ever happened to you?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;b&gt;M: I was riding my bike with some friends and a wagon was in the road. I swerved &amp;nbsp;and crashed into the weeds and disappeared. My friends asked me if I was ok. I just stuck out my hand and gave them the thumbs up. They started laughing and I started laughing. I&#39;m just glad I didn&#39;t get turned into sliced ham.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
A: What&#39;s the saddest thing that has ever happened to you?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;b&gt;M: We had a dog named Dax that got hit by a car.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
A: What is the scariest thing that has ever happened to you?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;b&gt;M: When I rode the Tower of Terror at Disney World with my mom. (Really...you should have seen his face. It was hilarious! We just had a good laugh remembering that one.)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
A: Tell me about a random memory:&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;b&gt;M: This was when I was little, I think I was 5. It was in Arizona. My devilish Uncle Josh and Uncle Steve, we went on a boat together and they decided to throw me into the lake. Terror came to me. Like my favorite balloon being popped. &amp;nbsp;(dramatic much??) (Also, what he doesn&#39;t remember, is that he was taunting his Uncles, saying &amp;nbsp;&quot;You can&#39;t throw me in the water!&quot; He had a life jacket on and the rest is history.)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
A: What do you like about being a kid?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;M: That I don&#39;t have to pay the bills. (Enjoy it while it lasts!)&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
A:One word to describe you would be _____?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;b&gt;M: Crazy&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
A: What is the grossest thing you can think of?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;b&gt;M: When I went hunting with my dad. I had to see a deer get it&#39;s skin cut off.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/feeds/8692349280037416876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/2012/02/interview-with-matthew-age-11.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3480959417250365289/posts/default/8692349280037416876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3480959417250365289/posts/default/8692349280037416876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/2012/02/interview-with-matthew-age-11.html' title='Interview with Matthew: Age 11'/><author><name>Amber Shoemaker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05474020435064684483</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih6zbU9U0VKi6YfZB5vVyczGYYDRG3N_LR7g_jSwsg1dgQ-1g5VNkm0Lzly2dYrXO1tKIuZ4U2x1g4kqs9vAT_ArSSqM74MVYHTPgSNlRm0GNEeDH9-Gk8eQMj37DzNxI/s220/229592_10150563142715230_635525229_18505513_5928051_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3480959417250365289.post-943513554477030748</id><published>2012-02-20T21:06:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-02-20T21:06:48.604-06:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="David"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Out of the mouths of babes"/><title type='text'>David the Dog Whisperer</title><content type='html'>Tonight during bedtime David came downstairs to use the bathroom. Our dog Maggie is in her dog crate this time of night and inhabits the bathroom.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This little nugget of awesomeness followed:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
{David exiting the bathroom} Mom! (in that whiny little boy voice) Maggie told me to be quiet.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Me: No she didn&#39;t, David. Do you know how I know?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
David: No.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Me: Because Maggie is a dog. Dogs cannot talk, David.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
David: Oh... {runs back into the bathroom} Maggie!! {in a voice seething with attitude} You can&#39;t talk!!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We all had to stifle our laughter. He is supposed to be going to bed. Laughing at him only delays the process.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&amp;nbsp;That kid makes me smile on a daily basis.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/feeds/943513554477030748/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/2012/02/david-dog-whisperer.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3480959417250365289/posts/default/943513554477030748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3480959417250365289/posts/default/943513554477030748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/2012/02/david-dog-whisperer.html' title='David the Dog Whisperer'/><author><name>Amber Shoemaker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05474020435064684483</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih6zbU9U0VKi6YfZB5vVyczGYYDRG3N_LR7g_jSwsg1dgQ-1g5VNkm0Lzly2dYrXO1tKIuZ4U2x1g4kqs9vAT_ArSSqM74MVYHTPgSNlRm0GNEeDH9-Gk8eQMj37DzNxI/s220/229592_10150563142715230_635525229_18505513_5928051_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3480959417250365289.post-8493580030863150438</id><published>2012-02-02T14:28:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-02-02T14:28:53.859-06:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="David"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family Fun"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Matthew"/><title type='text'>Hats and Scarves</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
Matthew has been wearing this hat and scarf combo for the past couple of days. I rather like it.&lt;/div&gt;
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The hat he acquired from his Uncle Bear and I made the scarf especially for him.&lt;/div&gt;
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&amp;nbsp;He&#39;s been quite camera shy lately so when I suggested we take some pictures and he agreed, I was shocked.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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Not so&amp;nbsp;surprisingly, he totally hammed it up for the camera.&lt;/div&gt;
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&amp;nbsp;I had to get David in on the hat/scarf fun. They both pull it off so well!&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYMabrwqyEB6TfdViB7t5T60JTIM9Ibb2q7I9ZCXcUPsPyJMDLPgT-tVnkUowvCGp7GwSyvHvIH3_nwR409VZh9UO9HF7dMHf-IhO6WyGL0IGJgoVqEZ0KVccbqkqUxGUSPKwaEpJYO1Dv/s1600/100_8924.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYMabrwqyEB6TfdViB7t5T60JTIM9Ibb2q7I9ZCXcUPsPyJMDLPgT-tVnkUowvCGp7GwSyvHvIH3_nwR409VZh9UO9HF7dMHf-IhO6WyGL0IGJgoVqEZ0KVccbqkqUxGUSPKwaEpJYO1Dv/s320/100_8924.JPG&quot; width=&quot;181&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&amp;nbsp;I only wish David had been wearing a different shirt. But this was an impromptu photo shoot so I just tried not to let it bother me too much.&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNgTOZ9leuKU2bryHbEMm0-GT1i-YXkW7IRPxA9RenVUvL-qb1xeQXGj9zbto2e5ssYh2caUM_Si6YvoHxd8LrszKo-aJZEX0qVjYlmHV8KIXghzpB7fLfiMYxvrn-d_UG2xlSFkhOR1qc/s1600/100_8930.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNgTOZ9leuKU2bryHbEMm0-GT1i-YXkW7IRPxA9RenVUvL-qb1xeQXGj9zbto2e5ssYh2caUM_Si6YvoHxd8LrszKo-aJZEX0qVjYlmHV8KIXghzpB7fLfiMYxvrn-d_UG2xlSFkhOR1qc/s320/100_8930.JPG&quot; width=&quot;181&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&amp;nbsp;*kissie face!!!&lt;/div&gt;
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This last one is a Matthew original. He decided he needed a&amp;nbsp;mustache&amp;nbsp;to complete his look.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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Gotta love him!&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/feeds/8493580030863150438/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/2012/02/matthew-has-been-wearing-this-hat-and.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3480959417250365289/posts/default/8493580030863150438'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3480959417250365289/posts/default/8493580030863150438'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/2012/02/matthew-has-been-wearing-this-hat-and.html' title='Hats and Scarves'/><author><name>Amber Shoemaker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05474020435064684483</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih6zbU9U0VKi6YfZB5vVyczGYYDRG3N_LR7g_jSwsg1dgQ-1g5VNkm0Lzly2dYrXO1tKIuZ4U2x1g4kqs9vAT_ArSSqM74MVYHTPgSNlRm0GNEeDH9-Gk8eQMj37DzNxI/s220/229592_10150563142715230_635525229_18505513_5928051_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOtTEyFAfvO2A46U_RESQZaHmolr-O5nUBnypDQX31TZzb0CZ59GM927SmIJQcPcbLjtbXAyM8qdSBG83jOIMsKpt9ItrTnQb4AB9tA5NwhGt8oKSqWO_POm-1OcDFukIMB3rZKGvRbvxu/s72-c/100_8934.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3480959417250365289.post-7699362356363858905</id><published>2012-01-01T13:26:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2012-01-01T20:07:15.161-06:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Matthew"/><title type='text'>The Search for Cash</title><content type='html'>The awesomeness that is Matthew:&lt;br /&gt;
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Yesterday we received a knock on the door. It was a lady passing out flyers for her missing dog &quot;Cash.&quot; He had been missing over 2 weeks and they really wanted to find him.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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Matthew had been standing in the hallways listening to this lady&#39;s plea for help. When she finished he pumped his fist into the air and said &quot;a mission!!! This is a job for MATTHEW!!&quot;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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I smiled at his enthusiasm. We then decided to make it a family mission.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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We all piled into the car and drove around town, having Matthew lead the way. He rolled down his window and yelled for Cash.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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When we got back from driving around town he grabbed a friend and they walked around the neighborhood to look some more.&lt;/div&gt;
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Unfortunately he never did find the dog.&lt;/div&gt;
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Upon further inspection of the flyer we saw that there was a $200 reward for the safe return of the dog.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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Matt asked Matthew what he would do with all that money. His response: &quot;I would give it to you.&quot;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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He knows that things have been tough financially.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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But seeing him so excited to help someone he had never even met before makes me proud beyond words.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/feeds/7699362356363858905/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/2012/01/search-for-cash.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3480959417250365289/posts/default/7699362356363858905'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3480959417250365289/posts/default/7699362356363858905'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/2012/01/search-for-cash.html' title='The Search for Cash'/><author><name>Amber Shoemaker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05474020435064684483</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih6zbU9U0VKi6YfZB5vVyczGYYDRG3N_LR7g_jSwsg1dgQ-1g5VNkm0Lzly2dYrXO1tKIuZ4U2x1g4kqs9vAT_ArSSqM74MVYHTPgSNlRm0GNEeDH9-Gk8eQMj37DzNxI/s220/229592_10150563142715230_635525229_18505513_5928051_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3480959417250365289.post-6385805946650475330</id><published>2011-11-14T19:43:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2011-11-14T21:05:16.110-06:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="David"/><title type='text'>Conversations with a 3 year old</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;While getting out of the tub, David hears the water draining.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Mommy! It&#39;s burping!! (moment of stunned silence) Oh, it says &#39;Excuse Me.&#39; &quot;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;While I was getting him dressed after his bath&lt;/b&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Mommy I naked boy!&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
(in his best superhero voice) &quot;Naked Boy!&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;b&gt;This little exchange happened the other day.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Mommy, you&#39;re awesome.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Thank you David.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;You&#39;re welcome Mommy.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
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&quot;I like the skelly goat.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;After a few seconds of mental confusion I realized what he was talking about. A telescope.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;While sitting on my lap with his head on my shoulder and rocking us back and forth.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Rocky a baby, in the tree.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Looks up at me and whispers...&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&quot;Close your eyes Mommy. Go to sleep.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/feeds/6385805946650475330/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/2011/11/conversations-with-3-year-old.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3480959417250365289/posts/default/6385805946650475330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3480959417250365289/posts/default/6385805946650475330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/2011/11/conversations-with-3-year-old.html' title='Conversations with a 3 year old'/><author><name>Amber Shoemaker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05474020435064684483</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih6zbU9U0VKi6YfZB5vVyczGYYDRG3N_LR7g_jSwsg1dgQ-1g5VNkm0Lzly2dYrXO1tKIuZ4U2x1g4kqs9vAT_ArSSqM74MVYHTPgSNlRm0GNEeDH9-Gk8eQMj37DzNxI/s220/229592_10150563142715230_635525229_18505513_5928051_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3480959417250365289.post-1091948445437066842</id><published>2011-11-01T15:33:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-01T15:34:45.553-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Amber"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family History"/><title type='text'>How am I doing?</title><content type='html'>Everyone keeps asking me &quot;How are you doing?&quot; I think this is really sweet, but I don&#39;t always want to give the full, drawn-out explanation. So mostly, I just say &quot;I&#39;m fine, thank you.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;
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There is truth to that. I am fine. Just not all the time. A lot happened last week, including the miscarriage.&lt;br /&gt;
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Matt&#39;s Aunt Christina passed away suddenly at the young age of 42. His Grandfather also had a stroke, but thankfully seems to be doing well.&lt;br /&gt;
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The passing of Aunt Christina just about knocked me off my feet. It was just a few months ago we were visiting and were all piled on her bed with 2 of her 3 kids talking and laughing while Matt fixed her computer.&lt;br /&gt;
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So I&#39;m dealing with a lot of grief.&lt;br /&gt;
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Today doesn&#39;t seem to be one of my good days. I&#39;m weepy and cranky.&lt;br /&gt;
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I just need to keep reminding myself that I&#39;m having a bad day, not a bad life.&lt;br /&gt;
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So, I am fine. But then again, I&#39;m not.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I&#39;m still healing from my miscarriage. I didn&#39;t think it would take this long. I always thought you had a miscarriage and then that was it. A one day thing. But it was a week on Sunday and I&#39;m still feeling the effects of it. Ibuprofen helps. So does lots and lots of candy.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Thank goodness for Halloween.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/feeds/1091948445437066842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/2011/11/how-am-i-doing.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3480959417250365289/posts/default/1091948445437066842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3480959417250365289/posts/default/1091948445437066842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/2011/11/how-am-i-doing.html' title='How am I doing?'/><author><name>Amber Shoemaker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05474020435064684483</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih6zbU9U0VKi6YfZB5vVyczGYYDRG3N_LR7g_jSwsg1dgQ-1g5VNkm0Lzly2dYrXO1tKIuZ4U2x1g4kqs9vAT_ArSSqM74MVYHTPgSNlRm0GNEeDH9-Gk8eQMj37DzNxI/s220/229592_10150563142715230_635525229_18505513_5928051_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3480959417250365289.post-536796679919550597</id><published>2011-10-24T09:41:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2013-09-10T10:02:22.022-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Amber"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family History"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Pregnancy"/><title type='text'>Miscarriage</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style=&quot;text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
&lt;b&gt;The following post is slightly graphic.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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Writing is sometimes therapeutic for me. I&#39;m going to talk about something that is very hard for me to verbally say but I want everyone to know. Mostly so there are no awkward conversations. One day I will be able to talk about it. Maybe even in the next couple of days. But right now, every time I utter the word Miscarriage, my heart aches and the tears flow openly.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;I had a miscarriage.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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Sunday morning the boys and I went to church. Matt stayed home because he is working the night shift and so sleeps during the day. I was still on my new pregnancy high. 7 weeks pregnant, the baby was the size of a blueberry. That was our little nickname for it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
During church services I noticed I was cramping a little. My back was sore also. I just shrugged it off, thinking maybe I was being a little bit of a sissy. I had been spotting the week before and even went and had an ultrasound done. I saw the teeny heartbeat. I&#39;ll always remember that teeny little heartbeat. But according to my doctor, everything looked fine.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Spotting is normal as long as it&#39;s not bright red and there are no clots. So I just kept an eye on the spotting and slowed my activities way down. No lifting and lots of laying down to read.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sunday afternoon we were invited over to a friends house for their daughters First Birthday. I arrived at 4pm, played with the baby. Watch David be crazy and silly per usual. I even received some congratulations for my pregnancy and showed off my ultrasound which showed a little blur for a baby. Even at that point I just wasn&#39;t feeling right. Call it intuition. I just couldn&#39;t put my finger on it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
At one point I went to the bathroom. It was then that I noticed my underwear was soaked with blood, amongst other things. I was devastated.&lt;br /&gt;
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Matthew came to the door just as I was getting ready to leave. &quot;Mom? Are you ok?&quot; I opened the door, let him and start crying. I manage to say &quot;I lost the baby.&quot; He immediately tears up and wraps his arms around me. I love that kid so much.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I then realized I was going to have to walk through a whole crowd of &amp;nbsp;people to get to the front door while still crying freely. I made it to the kitchen where my friend Beka was preparing food for the party. I managed to sputter out that I had to leave because I just had a miscarriage. She gave me a big hug (hugs really help) and offered to take the boys home later, I agreed and ran out of the door, desperate to get home to my husband.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I get home, wake Matt and we go to the ER. Mostly because I didn&#39;t know what to do in a situation like this. I&#39;d never had a miscarriage. After a 4 hour wait, blood work, and an ultrasound, it is determined that this indeed is a miscarriage.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I had pretty much prepared myself for that outcome, but to hear those words come out of the doctors mouth broke that teeny tiny string of hope I had left. We cried and then I told Matt I just want to go get something to eat.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So he fed me, he hugged me, he even rubbed lotion on my legs because they were dry. He has been my rock through all of this. I am so thankful that he is mine and I am his.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I will say that even though this has happened and I am sad about it:&lt;br /&gt;
I will not let it define my life or who I am.&lt;br /&gt;
I am not broken.&lt;br /&gt;
I will be happy, although just not right now.&lt;br /&gt;
I will recover.&lt;br /&gt;
We will try again.&lt;br /&gt;
We love Matthew and David so much. We are eternally grateful to have them as our children.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/feeds/536796679919550597/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/2011/10/following-post-is-little-tmi-too.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3480959417250365289/posts/default/536796679919550597'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3480959417250365289/posts/default/536796679919550597'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/2011/10/following-post-is-little-tmi-too.html' title='Miscarriage'/><author><name>Amber Shoemaker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05474020435064684483</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih6zbU9U0VKi6YfZB5vVyczGYYDRG3N_LR7g_jSwsg1dgQ-1g5VNkm0Lzly2dYrXO1tKIuZ4U2x1g4kqs9vAT_ArSSqM74MVYHTPgSNlRm0GNEeDH9-Gk8eQMj37DzNxI/s220/229592_10150563142715230_635525229_18505513_5928051_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3480959417250365289.post-173675108836335567</id><published>2011-10-17T20:10:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-22T17:37:45.310-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="David"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Matthew"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Pregnancy"/><title type='text'>Silly boys and a BIG surprise!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
Things have been kind of crazy here at the Shoemaker Homestead.&lt;/div&gt;
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Winter is closing in fast so I&#39;ve been trying to relish in the last warm days of Fall.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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Last week it was so warm we decided to grab some blankets and soak up some sun. It was just what we needed.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFFUCgSIkcLiWSsMq-eKUc7K4_KdlVsN0L7FWLPVNGsVr2SV0UOnUIiuY5SabT0jWYchje0CC70HQir3JpniMf-DqPT9H1WQK7oKXCA2PwTaleZx2SMF3RUYUcR5pPKvG7QK_f48tUa4hyphenhyphen/s1600/100_1445.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;181&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFFUCgSIkcLiWSsMq-eKUc7K4_KdlVsN0L7FWLPVNGsVr2SV0UOnUIiuY5SabT0jWYchje0CC70HQir3JpniMf-DqPT9H1WQK7oKXCA2PwTaleZx2SMF3RUYUcR5pPKvG7QK_f48tUa4hyphenhyphen/s320/100_1445.JPG&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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A few days later Matthew took it upon himself to rake some leaves in the backyard. He then led his little brother out there and they jumped and played. It&#39;s days like that that get me through the days when they aren&#39;t getting along so well.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Q-HSuYH9MeeV8WZZQmn_OKpNV3mbfd9uvvyij3xaRzD-xB_rH-PErvNNfO7ACFd8Gb6-g9-xnF0VviYlncpq3McOO-t72P14sRIP5DO49kH89relIPZ-oYp1M1EnKAoKPHXzHbtvceYZ/s1600/100_1459.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;265&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Q-HSuYH9MeeV8WZZQmn_OKpNV3mbfd9uvvyij3xaRzD-xB_rH-PErvNNfO7ACFd8Gb6-g9-xnF0VviYlncpq3McOO-t72P14sRIP5DO49kH89relIPZ-oYp1M1EnKAoKPHXzHbtvceYZ/s320/100_1459.JPG&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;i&gt;Matthew as the leaf monster!!&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJJfRPL0hxhafmB605hRl6Q9Je1I6rp0jnVU6CRsUSamDzKfS2BRX5P86enrB5xZidIkYEPSK7gH0QBlBa1W5AlPE2ll6khJbFG0pLg0OA4zWjYipk0AUp3OQTYqdvxQYcLZ7RflKj3zW7/s1600/100_1460.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;181&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJJfRPL0hxhafmB605hRl6Q9Je1I6rp0jnVU6CRsUSamDzKfS2BRX5P86enrB5xZidIkYEPSK7gH0QBlBa1W5AlPE2ll6khJbFG0pLg0OA4zWjYipk0AUp3OQTYqdvxQYcLZ7RflKj3zW7/s320/100_1460.JPG&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&amp;nbsp;&lt;i&gt;David attempted to be a headless leaf monster also but then quickly decided the itchy leaves were no fun to lay in.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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A few nights ago Matt was off working the night shift at Energizer so it was just the boys and I. We went upstairs early that night. (Morning sickness has been kicking my behind and all I want to do is curl up in a bed with a good book.)&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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So there I sat in my bed while the boys played. At one point they came in like this:&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk50UXFM2kpkEHk3DCMAUhiMFaqMqm5LdYPWUh4_4p9YBkPpd7zVy9tKy5UoZYLkt2wmGcmrCiZOX1YkBlhM9yjNTjZu7fdX8nCYZTcLWkTmjhtRiTwvJWnn3qvw5qQuQhTIOImhp3jwhP/s1600/100_1472.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk50UXFM2kpkEHk3DCMAUhiMFaqMqm5LdYPWUh4_4p9YBkPpd7zVy9tKy5UoZYLkt2wmGcmrCiZOX1YkBlhM9yjNTjZu7fdX8nCYZTcLWkTmjhtRiTwvJWnn3qvw5qQuQhTIOImhp3jwhP/s320/100_1472.JPG&quot; width=&quot;181&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&amp;nbsp;Then Matthew had the brilliant idea of grabbing my sweater to put around David.&lt;/div&gt;
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&amp;nbsp;Oh, these boys always know how to make me smile.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT8JZfbay8ww4unrIFhCSwcJhPWZ_GbbbR6JVFYS7662TdrKsoE3D_wS1KVTqW_wHvWHNXPDyXzRuOgf40YIfU3FZR66hHifBYDZP3dpNTdhZf05dVOM0FjMqeYO96isBmTZbgPFmkJGvn/s1600/100_1474.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT8JZfbay8ww4unrIFhCSwcJhPWZ_GbbbR6JVFYS7662TdrKsoE3D_wS1KVTqW_wHvWHNXPDyXzRuOgf40YIfU3FZR66hHifBYDZP3dpNTdhZf05dVOM0FjMqeYO96isBmTZbgPFmkJGvn/s320/100_1474.JPG&quot; width=&quot;181&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-size: large;&quot;&gt;In other news we found out that&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-size: x-large;&quot;&gt; I AM PREGNANT!!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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I&#39;ll know more about when my due date is when I go to the doctor but we&#39;re estimating at late May/early June.&lt;/div&gt;
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We couldn&#39;t be more thrilled. Everyone keeps asking if we hope it&#39;s a girl. Of course we&#39;ll take whatever is given to us. A girl would be different, but if it&#39;s a boy then at least we&#39;ll know what to do with it! Hahaha!&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/feeds/173675108836335567/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/2011/10/silly-boys-and-big-surprise.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3480959417250365289/posts/default/173675108836335567'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3480959417250365289/posts/default/173675108836335567'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/2011/10/silly-boys-and-big-surprise.html' title='Silly boys and a BIG surprise!!'/><author><name>Amber Shoemaker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05474020435064684483</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih6zbU9U0VKi6YfZB5vVyczGYYDRG3N_LR7g_jSwsg1dgQ-1g5VNkm0Lzly2dYrXO1tKIuZ4U2x1g4kqs9vAT_ArSSqM74MVYHTPgSNlRm0GNEeDH9-Gk8eQMj37DzNxI/s220/229592_10150563142715230_635525229_18505513_5928051_n.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFFUCgSIkcLiWSsMq-eKUc7K4_KdlVsN0L7FWLPVNGsVr2SV0UOnUIiuY5SabT0jWYchje0CC70HQir3JpniMf-DqPT9H1WQK7oKXCA2PwTaleZx2SMF3RUYUcR5pPKvG7QK_f48tUa4hyphenhyphen/s72-c/100_1445.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3480959417250365289.post-6844680569631939604</id><published>2011-10-02T17:34:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2011-10-02T18:05:12.326-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Creativity"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Friends"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Matthew"/><title type='text'>Stop Motion Animation</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;
Matthew made his first stop-motion animation a few years ago to stave off boredom.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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He loves doing it and created another one just the other day with his friend Aurora. That one&amp;nbsp;supposedly features a Transformers toy, but I have yet to see it.&lt;/div&gt;
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He always astonishes me with his creativity.&lt;/div&gt;
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&amp;nbsp;I hope he never gives up on it. &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;iframe allowfullscreen=&#39;allowfullscreen&#39; webkitallowfullscreen=&#39;webkitallowfullscreen&#39; mozallowfullscreen=&#39;mozallowfullscreen&#39; width=&#39;320&#39; height=&#39;266&#39; src=&#39;https://www.youtube.com/embed/5aFhg5yYufw?feature=player_embedded&#39; frameborder=&#39;0&#39;&gt;&lt;/iframe&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/feeds/6844680569631939604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/2011/10/stop-motion-animation.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3480959417250365289/posts/default/6844680569631939604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3480959417250365289/posts/default/6844680569631939604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/2011/10/stop-motion-animation.html' title='Stop Motion Animation'/><author><name>Amber Shoemaker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05474020435064684483</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih6zbU9U0VKi6YfZB5vVyczGYYDRG3N_LR7g_jSwsg1dgQ-1g5VNkm0Lzly2dYrXO1tKIuZ4U2x1g4kqs9vAT_ArSSqM74MVYHTPgSNlRm0GNEeDH9-Gk8eQMj37DzNxI/s220/229592_10150563142715230_635525229_18505513_5928051_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3480959417250365289.post-3716925118915185576</id><published>2011-09-03T00:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2011-09-03T00:11:17.382-05:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Amber"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="David"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family Fun"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Matt"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Matthew"/><title type='text'>Donut Heaven</title><content type='html'>About a week ago someone in my little family suggested making homemade yeast donuts. I don&#39;t remember who it was, maybe my dear husband who is well known for his massive sweet tooth. Either way the thought of &amp;nbsp;&lt;b style=&quot;font-style: italic;&quot;&gt;&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;color: blue; font-size: large;&quot;&gt;homemade yeast donuts&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&amp;nbsp;instantly had us all drooling. Matthew signed up to be my side kick in the donut making process. He was instantly ready to get in there. He even went and washed his hands without having to be ask. (he&#39;s getting so big! *sniff*)&lt;div&gt;
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I had never made donuts, much less yeast donuts. &amp;nbsp;I may be kind of weird, but I can&#39;t stand anyone (mostly my children who demand attention) in the kitchen when I&#39;m trying a recipe for the first time. I just need to be able to concentrate so that I don&#39;t waste food if I botch it up. There&#39;s a lot of pressure there. I never like throwing away food. Even though we now give the veggie scraps to the chickens and the meat scraps to the dog. But those scraps aren&#39;t&amp;nbsp;nourishing my family...so yeah, pressure.&lt;/div&gt;
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Attempt #1 you&#39;re supposed to heat up the milk, sugar and butter on the stove until the butter melts. Well I didn&#39;t consider that the milk mixture would get screaming hot and kill the yeast when I poured it in there. That was a flop. Didn&#39;t rise one little bit.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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Attempt #2 heated up &amp;nbsp;the milk mixture and then let it cool for about 5-10 minutes. I also made sure to watch it so it didn&#39;t get as hot as it did last time.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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Nope, that didn&#39;t help either. The yeast died and I was left with dough that was hard as a rock. I wanted to throw it at someone!! But I didn&#39;t, I simply threw it in the compost pile.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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After the second attempt I decided to do some research. Matt was concerned that my yeast was old and that&#39;s why it wasn&#39;t rising. So I checked online and found a little experiment&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;color: #0b5394;&quot;&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;i&gt;Take couple of teaspoons of yeast and sugar and add them to a glass of lukewarm water, Let sit for about 5 minutes. If it starts to foam then you know your yeast is good!! If not, well then it&#39;s time to restock.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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I also found out that the milk mixture needs to be between&lt;b&gt; 80-90 degrees Fahrenheit.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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Attempt #3 I took my newly discovered information and put it to the test. I dug out my candy thermometer and put together the milk mixture. I was shocked to discover that it took almost a half an hour to cool down to 90 F after getting everything melted. I just wasn&#39;t expecting that.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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Matthew then joined me in the kitchen. I felt pretty confident it was going to work this time. David was not allowed in the kitchen at that time because he becomes very needy and demanding. (I want a drink! No milk! I want water......umm, no. I want milk!) It&#39;s a bit tiring. Luckily Matt was home and swooped in to distract David with toys and good ol&#39; rough-housing.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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Matthew and I measured and mixed. Then the hardest part. THE WAITING!!&lt;/div&gt;
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(Would it rise!?! Would it fail?? Only time would tell!?!)&lt;/div&gt;
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We waited an excruciating 60 minutes. I tried not to go into the kitchen during that time. And if I did, I did not make eye contact with the covered bowl sitting on the counter.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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The timer dinged (Matthew practically informed the entire neighborhood)&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;span class=&quot;Apple-style-span&quot; style=&quot;font-size: x-large;&quot;&gt;SUCCESS!! THE DOUGH HAD RISEN!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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I won&#39;t bore you with the rest of the cooking process.&lt;/div&gt;
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&amp;nbsp;We fried them up and topped with warm chocolate frosting. Oh yeah, they were divine!!&lt;/div&gt;
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Matthew had just polished off his second donut when he practically floated into the kitchen proclaiming &quot;I think I&#39;m in Donut Heaven!&quot;&lt;/div&gt;
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Once I figured out all that I was doing wrong, they didn&#39;t take too long to make.&lt;/div&gt;
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It looks like we may have the start of a family tradition on our hands. I can handle that.&lt;/div&gt;
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</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/feeds/3716925118915185576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/2011/09/donut-heaven.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3480959417250365289/posts/default/3716925118915185576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3480959417250365289/posts/default/3716925118915185576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://thegooberfamily.blogspot.com/2011/09/donut-heaven.html' title='Donut Heaven'/><author><name>Amber Shoemaker</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/05474020435064684483</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='//blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEih6zbU9U0VKi6YfZB5vVyczGYYDRG3N_LR7g_jSwsg1dgQ-1g5VNkm0Lzly2dYrXO1tKIuZ4U2x1g4kqs9vAT_ArSSqM74MVYHTPgSNlRm0GNEeDH9-Gk8eQMj37DzNxI/s220/229592_10150563142715230_635525229_18505513_5928051_n.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>