<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;A0cAR3w8eyp7ImA9WhRUF08.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7989676854656500628</id><updated>2012-01-27T21:37:26.273-08:00</updated><category term="Husband" /><category term="manifesto" /><category term="moving" /><category term="nostalgia" /><category term="Henry" /><category term="babies" /><category term="Musings" /><category term="vacation" /><category term="crafty" /><category term="dogs" /><category term="grown up stuff" /><category term="homeschool" /><category term="Spencer" /><category term="Pinterest" /><category term="Dog" /><category term="garden" /><category term="Gospel" /><category term="Ezra" /><category term="projects" /><category term="Doula" /><category term="Oliver" /><category term="llc" /><category term="Derek" /><category term="kitchen" /><category term="Happy list" /><category term="crunchy musings" /><category term="seriously?" /><category term="inappropriate story" /><category term="Ezra. Happy list" /><category term="giveaway" /><category term="holidays" /><category term="you're welcome" /><category term="family" /><category term="Links" /><category term="diets" /><category term="stupid dog" /><category term="home birth" /><category term="real life story" /><category term="gospel musings" /><category term="beginning" /><category term="healthy living" /><category term="thrifty" /><category term="whining" /><category term="kids" /><title>The -Ing Family</title><subtitle type="html">A mother of boys works from son up 'til son down.</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ingfamily.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://ingfamily.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7989676854656500628/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Morgan -Ing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04477753070828406848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="25" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_txS9L0vo1GE/S3XPM-F6WcI/AAAAAAAAHn0/RsXzG8qRvHw/S220/100_2779.JPG" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>619</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/The-ingFamily" /><feedburner:info uri="the-ingfamily" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><feedburner:emailServiceId>The-ingFamily</feedburner:emailServiceId><feedburner:feedburnerHostname>http://feedburner.google.com</feedburner:feedburnerHostname><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkEHRHc4cSp7ImA9WhRUFk4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7989676854656500628.post-758929572772298862</id><published>2012-01-26T19:15:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-26T19:23:55.939-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-26T19:23:55.939-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="real life story" /><title>Twins?</title><content type="html">So this little womb-dweller of ours is a stinker!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When I went in to see the midwives (I see a hospital-based midwife group as my "back up" if a home birth doesn't work out for whatever reason) the first time a couple of weeks ago, I got a quick ultrasound to assure that there really was a baby in there.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And there was.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then the sweet midwife said, "Hmmm. Do you normally keep weird things in your uterus?"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Um, not usually. WHY?" I asked, wary.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Well, I said there was only one in there, but that might not be true."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Guys, if I'd been standing, I would have needed to lie down. As it was, the room got a bit spinny.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Basically, there was a "twin-marker" but she couldn't find another baby.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Ah, well. Come back in a month. We'll figure it out," said she.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I agreed, until I left. Then I realized a month was too long to sit and wonder how many people I had squatting in my uterus. Amazingly just as I was thinking that, the midwife called to say the doctor wanted to rule out twins immediately.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
24 hours and a doctor-ordered very full bladder later (do not make a pregnant woman drink 32 oz of water an hour before her "appointment" and then make her wait an additional HOUR! I was uncomfortable to say the least) it was confirmed:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
JUST ONE BABY.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I was surprised at how unspeakably relieved I was.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Twins would be wonderful, I'm sure. But as it stands, I'm going to have five children in less than 7 years. It's enough for now. One at a time is a nice deal.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, now we've got just the one in there. (Confirmed again today after a scare. NOT fun.) So, we can move forward, with&lt;i&gt; just the one&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I don't want to sound ungrateful. Twin would be a blessing. But so is just ONE baby at a time.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Good baby, way to have not split into two when you were just a blastocyst. Thank you, sweetheart.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
:)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7989676854656500628-758929572772298862?l=ingfamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;
The fevers have lifted, except for in my wee-littlest. He was up from 2-3 this morning while awaiting his medicine to kick in.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Then as he drifted back to sleep (ON MY PILLOW) I heard Spencer get up.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Spencer has taken to waking up in the 3:00 hour to sneak down and watch TV.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I was furious. Spencer and I have a tenuous relationship in the morning as it is. 6:00 is nearly impossible for him to wait for before leaving his room. Usually 5:30 is all I can hope for.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But 3:35? Sorry, Dude. I won't allow it. &amp;nbsp;And it's becoming a habit. I am unimpressed. &amp;nbsp;And please remember, once Spencer is up for the day, there is no going back to sleep. So is he's awake at 3:00 that's it. I'm screwed.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;Thus began the battle royale over staying in your dang bedroom until there is a 6: on the clock.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I camped myself on a pillow with a blanket outside his room. Again and again I sent him in. I gradually moved to the couch around the 4:30 time frame.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
About 5:30 Ezra (who needed to remain asleep having decided HIS bedtime last night was 9:30) was requesting my presence so I gave up and went back to bed. Within seconds I heard Spencer leave him room.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The battle was lost but I had stuck my ground for 2 hours.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And so our flow is REALLLLLLLY messed up. I'm beyond exhausted. Spencer is insanely whiny (YA THINK) as is Ezra (HUGE SURPRISE). People are snotty and coughing and generally disgusting.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&amp;nbsp;I am lacking serious motivation,and frankly all I want is for everyone to go away and let me nap. I don't care about the trashed house, the laundry, or anything really at all. I just want a nap.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7989676854656500628-7272379884935952120?l=ingfamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/ib7Yj3gWPS7RNANa_eaN3Qn6p_W1BPHptLcDQnkvKWo?feat=embedwebsite"&gt;&lt;img height="400" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-hR9LoSFBSio/Tx2ChMI8zWI/AAAAAAAAKko/MwcH9Src980/s400/IMG_20120122_144907.jpg" width="300" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;"&gt;From &lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/morganhagey/DropBox?authuser=0&amp;amp;authkey=Gv1sRgCIKY9pzml5SYEg&amp;amp;feat=embedwebsite"&gt;Drop Box&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&amp;nbsp;We have the plague.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I don't like it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Mostly because my children keep acting like they are ALLLLL better. Then they vomit again or spike a fever. Or cry because they want popcorn at 8:30 in the morning.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I mean, we ALLLLL missed church and my grandma's birthday dinner yesterday because I decided to be polite and keep our digustingness to ourselves. I thought a day of quarantine would suffice. By yesterday late afternoon Spencer was happily eating a ho-ho and then proceeded to puke all over everything this morning again.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
(sidenote: My children had never had hohos until yesterday. Spencer kept referring to them as "hohohos" and they thought they were awesome. My children are reaping the benefits of my pregnancy cravings. BUT hohos are disgusting. I was bitterly disappointed. I have high in the sky hopes for Little Debbie's swiss cake rolls though.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Henry has been sick since well, Saturday (maybe Friday night?) and I can't figure out WHY he still has a fever. Still sick, that's for sure but WHY???&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Ezra started this whole thing. He's still sick. I LOVE a baby who doesn't nap/sleep unless he's in my arms. It makes it HARD TO ACCOMPLISH ANYTHING.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And Oliver? So far so good. I'm waiting patiently for him to yak-a-doodle and finish us out real nice.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Aren't you glad you just read all that? Don't you wish you were here visiting? You're welcome to come over and stay a while. My dishes need doing afterall.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7989676854656500628-7850306403959023983?l=ingfamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5-MHIMUiVYz8-a81UGutE30sxwg/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/5-MHIMUiVYz8-a81UGutE30sxwg/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/The-ingFamily/~4/5SCKFhNhxrc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ingfamily.blogspot.com/feeds/7850306403959023983/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7989676854656500628&amp;postID=7850306403959023983" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7989676854656500628/posts/default/7850306403959023983?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7989676854656500628/posts/default/7850306403959023983?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/The-ingFamily/~3/5SCKFhNhxrc/down-and-out-too-much-information.html" title="Down and Out (Too Much Information?)" /><author><name>Morgan -Ing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04477753070828406848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="25" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_txS9L0vo1GE/S3XPM-F6WcI/AAAAAAAAHn0/RsXzG8qRvHw/S220/100_2779.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-hR9LoSFBSio/Tx2ChMI8zWI/AAAAAAAAKko/MwcH9Src980/s72-c/IMG_20120122_144907.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ingfamily.blogspot.com/2012/01/down-and-out-too-much-information.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEQBQHs4eip7ImA9WhRUEE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7989676854656500628.post-2641160718885824005</id><published>2012-01-19T12:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-19T12:52:31.532-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-19T12:52:31.532-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="kids" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="homeschool" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Musings" /><title>Home School Half-Time Report</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fHyX0MPJ4B4/Txh8E7bqnmI/AAAAAAAAKkg/FnScA0bA3Zg/s1600/100_1593.JPG"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fHyX0MPJ4B4/Txh8E7bqnmI/AAAAAAAAKkg/FnScA0bA3Zg/s400/100_1593.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;
When I embarked on this year of home-education, I felt like I was VERY prepared. I had read a book about setting appropriate expectations for yourself and your kids during the first year of homeschooling (I counted last year as practice.) I was prepared to change things up, rearrange schedules and curriculum and all that.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Basically I had a plan, and I figured it would change.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And change it has.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;1. Schedule&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We began our year sort of trying to loosely mirror the traditional idea of "get up, get ready and go to school."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I think that lasted MAYBE two weeks.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Mornings here are NOT for school. Derek tends to work less in the mornings and more after lunch. For some reason, when Dad is around, other things tend to need to be accomplished instead.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Plus because Derek works until after bedtime, we have our big "dinner" meal at lunch time. I can't possibly cook a full meal and teach reading at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, now, we don't even try for school until after lunch. It makes for a nice smooth morning-into-afternoon for everyone. Babies go to bed and school can happen.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
2. Curriculum&lt;br /&gt;
We're still working toward literacy. I knew it was going to be a long haul. I also knew that Spencer would progress as fast (if not faster) than Henry. And those have both proven true.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
However, both boys have made huge leaps and are now reading some words and understand how sounds go together. The fact that I can SEE the progress motivates me to keep pushing them.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We do far less Art &amp;nbsp;than I thought we would. While my Pinterests are full of delightful art projects, the reality is my boys get easily frustrated by art that includes step-by-step instructions. Typically the prep time is at least 2x as long as it takes for the project to get done.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;But when I hand them supplies and say "the only rule is to keep the glue off the floor" then they will cut and paste for an hour. (See the picture above.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We go on far fewer field trips than I thought we would. For one thing, the littles' naps cut into the day. For another, I feel like they are a bit young for most of the educational experiences available to us. They are small. We have YEARS to explore the world around us in a "formal" way. For now, the library and the park and walks suffice.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The boys love math. It shocks me. They like to add and subtract. Henry thinks dividing is SO cool. I have no idea where they came from.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The boys' "kid lessons" continue to be a favorite. "Mom, can we learn about (insert random thing here)?" is a daily request. We spent over a week learning about robots. It's my favorite as much as it is their's.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We still read books by the dozen. They can't get enough.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Day To Day:&lt;br /&gt;
Some days are better than others. Some days we miss school entirely or only get a fraction of what I wanted accomplished done.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Some days are blissful, and I feel confident in our progress.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Other days I wonder why we ever thought this was a good idea.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My house is frequently trashed. The kids are learning to do chores, to help, to clean up. But it's like pulling teeth. And since we're ALL here all day (except Derek who escapes!) the mess adds up fast.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I keep the kitchen clean and the clothes washed. I try to keep up on bathrooms and vacuuming.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I don't get laundry folded or sorted or put away more than once a week. Right now there are clean clothes that have been clean and in baskets for a month. (I'm blaming that on pregnancy nausea!)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I cook exactly one meal a day. It's usually lunch, like I said. I've accepted that cereal for breakfast most days is not the worst. I know it's far from ideal, but concessions have been made.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I don't get a lot of time for anything other than kids. It's not their fault. They are good boys. But it means that bedtime remains firmly at 6:30pm. Ezra makes sleeping challenging because frequent night-wakings. So I'm tired. Always.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Due to exhaustion sometimes I'm lazy. I try to not be because I think school teachers don't get to be "lazy." So we push through.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But there are days...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
All in all, we're doing well. We're getting educated. We're learning. We still all love each other.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It's hard. I won't lie. It's not all sunshine and roses and hippie granola crunchy meals. Sometimes it's dirty kids and frustrated Mama and the McDonald's playland.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But we're on the right path. So, that's something right?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7989676854656500628-2641160718885824005?l=ingfamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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I read a story, many years ago, on the internet about a woman who was snuggling her baby in a church meeting. An older woman came up to her and asked, "Is this your first?"&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The mother laughed and said, "No, it's my 11th, but it's my first 'Hayden'."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As a young mother to just one, that story deeply impressed me, especially since I couldn't imagine loving anyone the same or as much as I loved my one and only Henry.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And now, as a mother of four, I can attest to the truth of it: each baby is worth loving as much as the first.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Because each baby is a person. As Dr. Suess mused, "A person's a person, not matter how small!" &amp;nbsp;A person and a child of God. He knows their name. And He loves them like that mother loved her 11th baby. As an individual.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I only pray to make sure my children each know of my (and their daddy's) individual love for them, exactly as they are, regardless of whether they are first or fourth, second or third.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I also read recently of a woman receiving a lot of crap from friends and family for having her THIRD baby (mind-boggling!).&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In an effort to put it in perspective, her father said to her, "You will never regret having another child."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I don't know, but I think...I hope it's true.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
That I will never regret having another child.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And I will love our fifth baby as deeply and fully as I love my first, second, third and fourth.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We are so thankful to have been blessed with the opportunity to make room for another little one.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I know people will judge us. I know people will scoff.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm not sayin' 20 babies are in our future. But I will have the babies meant for our family.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Right now? That means we're expecting our newest mid-August.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table style="width: auto;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/KjwPCa87zvB1ysk4ywEhBQn6p_W1BPHptLcDQnkvKWo?feat=embedwebsite"&gt;&lt;img height="400" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-9u6xGiRBwcU/TxTh4Q7zZvI/AAAAAAAAKkU/9RneCR1Hs7U/s400/IMG_20120112_180908.jpg" width="300" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;"&gt;From &lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/morganhagey/DropBox?authuser=0&amp;amp;authkey=Gv1sRgCIKY9pzml5SYEg&amp;amp;feat=embedwebsite"&gt;Drop Box&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Because yes, my hands are full.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And I wouldn't have it any other way.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7989676854656500628-4253974670241239874?l=ingfamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/TA22s2OACKyKZKv3wigBuS49FXE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/TA22s2OACKyKZKv3wigBuS49FXE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/The-ingFamily/~4/kPoF56O7nL4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ingfamily.blogspot.com/feeds/4253974670241239874/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7989676854656500628&amp;postID=4253974670241239874" title="18 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7989676854656500628/posts/default/4253974670241239874?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7989676854656500628/posts/default/4253974670241239874?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/The-ingFamily/~3/kPoF56O7nL4/i-sure-have-my-hands-full.html" title="I Sure Have My Hands Full" /><author><name>Morgan -Ing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04477753070828406848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="25" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_txS9L0vo1GE/S3XPM-F6WcI/AAAAAAAAHn0/RsXzG8qRvHw/S220/100_2779.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-9u6xGiRBwcU/TxTh4Q7zZvI/AAAAAAAAKkU/9RneCR1Hs7U/s72-c/IMG_20120112_180908.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>18</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ingfamily.blogspot.com/2011/12/i-sure-have-my-hands-full.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkAHQHg-fip7ImA9WhRVE04.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7989676854656500628.post-6057713001217305186</id><published>2012-01-11T18:18:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-11T18:18:51.656-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-11T18:18:51.656-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="kids" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Derek" /><title>I'm So Glad When Daddy Comes Home</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
Or in this case, doesn't leave for work until after lunch!&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Bdh-Po_iaj0/Tw5C2gaAsbI/AAAAAAAAKkI/9YeUkMy_Paw/s1600/IMG_20111213_194035+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Bdh-Po_iaj0/Tw5C2gaAsbI/AAAAAAAAKkI/9YeUkMy_Paw/s400/IMG_20111213_194035+%25281%2529.jpg" width="297" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I had to be some places this morning, and the kids weren't invited. So I got food in the crock pot and dug clothes out of the clean laundry for everyone and ran away.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Two and a half hours later, upon my return, I found 3 boys in Spiderman costumes and lunch on the table.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
SUCH fun they'd had with their daddy. They had gone in their costumes to the grocery store for tortillas for lunch. There had been FREE COOKIES for sampling, and CAR CARTS FOR DRIVING. Basically, they had a ball.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;At the grocery store.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Daddies are just the best aren't they?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7989676854656500628-6057713001217305186?l=ingfamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/FS4AdRSJqzUcc3H-XW3UcIOer7w/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/FS4AdRSJqzUcc3H-XW3UcIOer7w/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/The-ingFamily/~4/8S7dTgVJWAU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ingfamily.blogspot.com/feeds/6057713001217305186/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7989676854656500628&amp;postID=6057713001217305186" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7989676854656500628/posts/default/6057713001217305186?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7989676854656500628/posts/default/6057713001217305186?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/The-ingFamily/~3/8S7dTgVJWAU/im-so-glad-when-daddy-comes-home.html" title="I'm So Glad When Daddy Comes Home" /><author><name>Morgan -Ing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04477753070828406848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="25" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_txS9L0vo1GE/S3XPM-F6WcI/AAAAAAAAHn0/RsXzG8qRvHw/S220/100_2779.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Bdh-Po_iaj0/Tw5C2gaAsbI/AAAAAAAAKkI/9YeUkMy_Paw/s72-c/IMG_20111213_194035+%25281%2529.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ingfamily.blogspot.com/2012/01/im-so-glad-when-daddy-comes-home.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEcGRnk5eyp7ImA9WhRVEUk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7989676854656500628.post-4771393353345499785</id><published>2012-01-09T13:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-09T13:53:47.723-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-09T13:53:47.723-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="kids" /><title>A Gem</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pAymUuYASoE/TwthUFFpEHI/AAAAAAAAKjw/fCZqAllH9U0/s1600/IMG_20120109_102021.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pAymUuYASoE/TwthUFFpEHI/AAAAAAAAKjw/fCZqAllH9U0/s400/IMG_20120109_102021.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I am feeling a bit cotton-headed-ninny-muggin-like today. Little sleep for days, sick kids, croup, colds, snot noses, phew.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, rather than bore you with that grossness, I give unto you the scene upon which I stumbled today.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
They were having a "meeting." What was on the agenda, I don't know, but I did overhear some discussion of gender roles. "Mommies nurse the babies, Daddies go to work." Lately? At our house? Um, yup, sounds about right.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It was darling.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So there. Mommy-blogging in full force.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Happy Monday!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Sop8k96mlu4/TwthUSjIogI/AAAAAAAAKj8/wMhhX4y0OIE/s1600/IMG_20120109_102026.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Sop8k96mlu4/TwthUSjIogI/AAAAAAAAKj8/wMhhX4y0OIE/s400/IMG_20120109_102026.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/w71HMTMBSkt4_tnN7Zdkc8OnTX0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/w71HMTMBSkt4_tnN7Zdkc8OnTX0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/The-ingFamily/~4/3Z-BaPMqOFo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ingfamily.blogspot.com/feeds/4771393353345499785/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7989676854656500628&amp;postID=4771393353345499785" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7989676854656500628/posts/default/4771393353345499785?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7989676854656500628/posts/default/4771393353345499785?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/The-ingFamily/~3/3Z-BaPMqOFo/gem.html" title="A Gem" /><author><name>Morgan -Ing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04477753070828406848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="25" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_txS9L0vo1GE/S3XPM-F6WcI/AAAAAAAAHn0/RsXzG8qRvHw/S220/100_2779.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pAymUuYASoE/TwthUFFpEHI/AAAAAAAAKjw/fCZqAllH9U0/s72-c/IMG_20120109_102021.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ingfamily.blogspot.com/2012/01/gem.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D04DSX06eSp7ImA9WhRWGEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7989676854656500628.post-7254112560051974420</id><published>2012-01-05T18:02:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-05T18:12:58.311-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-05T18:12:58.311-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="kids" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Musings" /><title>Just a Regular Day</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-V-gYcGODYNs/TwZWNN8yuCI/AAAAAAAAKjM/Qrs1X3sTGIM/s1600/IMG_20120105_160947.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-V-gYcGODYNs/TwZWNN8yuCI/AAAAAAAAKjM/Qrs1X3sTGIM/s400/IMG_20120105_160947.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Today was just a regular day. It was Thursday. Sometimes Thursday feels very weekend-y, and other times (like this particular Thursday) they just feel like a part of the boring old same week.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Weekends around here are pretty much the same as weeks minus church so Thursday feeling "week-ish" isn't really news.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
ANYWAY, we hadn't even left the house all day. I did run to the library to grab a book on hold for school today while Derek was home for lunch, &amp;nbsp;but other than that NADA.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have no need or Diet Coke runs anymore, so I hadn't even done that! Tragic.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I really REALLY wanted to turn on a movie for my children. Sometimes I do cheat and let them watch during the week, maybe once every three weeks? But I couldn't bring myself when Utah is sort of under the impression that it is spring.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Hello, 55 degree weather, how are you?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So we went a'wandering instead. The big boys were an actual blur, hence the blurry picture.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CIi3PDDzoHM/TwZWNdDT0nI/AAAAAAAAKjY/OBq__ay1TwI/s1600/IMG_20120105_160957.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CIi3PDDzoHM/TwZWNdDT0nI/AAAAAAAAKjY/OBq__ay1TwI/s400/IMG_20120105_160957.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
Ezra has/had been a cranky-pants all afternoon and an attempt at a second nap had failed. So I thought the change in scenery would do him good. And it did. He was quiet and content the entire walk. Cutie baby.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZtUXxrwjdwE/TwZWNibThZI/AAAAAAAAKjo/Xnshs95sA2Y/s1600/IMG_20120105_161002.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZtUXxrwjdwE/TwZWNibThZI/AAAAAAAAKjo/Xnshs95sA2Y/s400/IMG_20120105_161002.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And Oliver? Well, he stuck close and wore socks on his hands and basically chatted about life, the universe and everything as we walked. Two year olds, when not shrieking, are absolutely delightful.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sometimes pretending it's spring when it is really only January 5th is the only option a mother has.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And I lost count of the number of robins we saw. IT'S NOT SPRING, GUYS!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We're ALL going to be bit sad when winter actually decides to start. I haven't even pulled out winter coats yet.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, we walked and walked and collected pine needles that now litter my floor.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And I *might* have still turned on the tube for 30 minutes while I prepped gourmet grilled cheese and fruit salad.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It was a Thursday. That's it. Just a regular day.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img align="middle" alt="Posted by Picasa" border="0" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" style="-moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; border: 0px none; padding: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7989676854656500628-7254112560051974420?l=ingfamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/AOQk9OsKRamxpYTitWe1V_NhDNg/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/AOQk9OsKRamxpYTitWe1V_NhDNg/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/AOQk9OsKRamxpYTitWe1V_NhDNg/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/AOQk9OsKRamxpYTitWe1V_NhDNg/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/The-ingFamily/~4/s4Ru3v4LmJE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ingfamily.blogspot.com/feeds/7254112560051974420/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7989676854656500628&amp;postID=7254112560051974420" title="6 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7989676854656500628/posts/default/7254112560051974420?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7989676854656500628/posts/default/7254112560051974420?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/The-ingFamily/~3/s4Ru3v4LmJE/just-regular-day.html" title="Just a Regular Day" /><author><name>Morgan -Ing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04477753070828406848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="25" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_txS9L0vo1GE/S3XPM-F6WcI/AAAAAAAAHn0/RsXzG8qRvHw/S220/100_2779.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-V-gYcGODYNs/TwZWNN8yuCI/AAAAAAAAKjM/Qrs1X3sTGIM/s72-c/IMG_20120105_160947.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>6</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ingfamily.blogspot.com/2012/01/just-regular-day.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEUDR3o-fSp7ImA9WhRWF04.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7989676854656500628.post-2396163634241917852</id><published>2012-01-04T20:04:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-04T20:04:36.455-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-04T20:04:36.455-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Henry" /><title>When You've Got Big Plans</title><content type="html">Henry has become his own person.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I kind of find this to be offensive.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And perfectly natural too.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The other day, he walked right up to me and said, "Mom, I have plans on Monday."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Oh really tiny man?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Oh, and what are your plans?" I asked trying to hide my smile.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"I have to go swimming on Monday," he answered.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And not for naught because we did indeed end up going swimming that very Monday.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
His plans aren't limited to just Mondays, he's got all kinds of plans for his life.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It's lovely and scary all at once.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Slow down little man. Oh please be small.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Do you see why I find it to be offensive?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Stinker.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7989676854656500628-2396163634241917852?l=ingfamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/_ZAp_PXbrrW5jwJKmr_P87kOAcM/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/_ZAp_PXbrrW5jwJKmr_P87kOAcM/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/_ZAp_PXbrrW5jwJKmr_P87kOAcM/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/_ZAp_PXbrrW5jwJKmr_P87kOAcM/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/The-ingFamily/~4/s8fvfPW36Cw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ingfamily.blogspot.com/feeds/2396163634241917852/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7989676854656500628&amp;postID=2396163634241917852" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7989676854656500628/posts/default/2396163634241917852?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7989676854656500628/posts/default/2396163634241917852?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/The-ingFamily/~3/s8fvfPW36Cw/when-youve-got-big-plans.html" title="When You've Got Big Plans" /><author><name>Morgan -Ing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04477753070828406848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="25" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_txS9L0vo1GE/S3XPM-F6WcI/AAAAAAAAHn0/RsXzG8qRvHw/S220/100_2779.JPG" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ingfamily.blogspot.com/2012/01/when-youve-got-big-plans.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C04DRn48fCp7ImA9WhRWFU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7989676854656500628.post-6729488989281070550</id><published>2012-01-02T08:32:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2012-01-02T08:32:57.074-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-02T08:32:57.074-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Musings" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="nostalgia" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="holidays" /><title>2011 Woah</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ykcc-idS4AM/TwHcExV6KMI/AAAAAAAAKjA/j9uo2Q-qASQ/s1600/IMG_20120102_092851.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ykcc-idS4AM/TwHcExV6KMI/AAAAAAAAKjA/j9uo2Q-qASQ/s400/IMG_20120102_092851.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I could post a million links and tons of photos but suffice it to say that things changed a lot in 2011.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We went from a newborn to a 1 year old. (and from 1 to 2 and from 3 to 4 and from 5 to 6!)&lt;br /&gt;
We went from three jobs to four.&lt;br /&gt;
We went from old teeny house to younger bigger (but still old).&lt;br /&gt;
We went from one city to another.&lt;br /&gt;
I went from chub to lean.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
2011 was a good year.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
2012? Well, I have some big plans, and I'm not sure how it's all going to pan out, but suffice it to say we've got some resolutions, and I am QUITE resolved. So, we'll see how it goes.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm giving up Diet Coke.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I know. I know.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Try not to die of shock.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There are other things too, finance-related and health-related. I'm serious when I say, BIG changes.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And that makes me nervous because as all humans, I tend to start off well and sort of dwindle down to my previous state. I can't say for sure that this year will be any different, but I *want* it to be different. I *want* these goals to come to fruition.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, we'll just see how it goes.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Dave Ramsey will be SO proud.&lt;br /&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img align="middle" alt="Posted by Picasa" border="0" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" style="-moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; border: 0px none; padding: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7989676854656500628-6729488989281070550?l=ingfamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ut0R6Ll89qlZ-gnFERA0dGCZGsQ/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/ut0R6Ll89qlZ-gnFERA0dGCZGsQ/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/The-ingFamily/~4/M7TW-YrS7WI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ingfamily.blogspot.com/feeds/6729488989281070550/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7989676854656500628&amp;postID=6729488989281070550" title="7 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7989676854656500628/posts/default/6729488989281070550?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7989676854656500628/posts/default/6729488989281070550?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/The-ingFamily/~3/M7TW-YrS7WI/2011-woah.html" title="2011 Woah" /><author><name>Morgan -Ing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04477753070828406848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="25" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_txS9L0vo1GE/S3XPM-F6WcI/AAAAAAAAHn0/RsXzG8qRvHw/S220/100_2779.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Ykcc-idS4AM/TwHcExV6KMI/AAAAAAAAKjA/j9uo2Q-qASQ/s72-c/IMG_20120102_092851.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>7</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ingfamily.blogspot.com/2012/01/2011-woah.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUABSHw5eyp7ImA9WhRWEU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7989676854656500628.post-3249389598136679778</id><published>2011-12-28T18:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-28T19:02:39.223-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-28T19:02:39.223-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="seriously?" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="kids" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="whining" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Oliver" /><title>When Good Naps Go Bad</title><content type="html">&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Gdfd5rmAq74/TvvXV2Rlm3I/AAAAAAAAKiw/WfU1YtYi9Tk/s1600/100_1577.JPG"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Gdfd5rmAq74/TvvXV2Rlm3I/AAAAAAAAKiw/WfU1YtYi9Tk/s400/100_1577.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Oliver, my very very best napper has started skipping naps.&lt;br /&gt;
Sigh.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I don't have children like some of my friends do, that nap every day until kindergarten. Sometime after their second birthday all my babies give up the great institution of napping.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'd never ever give it up if I was them.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Anyway, so Oliver is over 2 and a half and therefore my oldest napper.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Yesterday, yes nap.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Today, no nap.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
That picture there is Christmas Day. He missed his nap in his bed because he was Skyping his Grandparents and about 3:00 all the excitement had caught up with him.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, I'll watch his naps dwindle and fail and be on life support for a couple of months until I declare "Turn off the machines" and that'll be the death of the great Ollie-nap.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
(We never call him "Ollie" by the way, but that just flowed real nice like. No, you may not call him "Ollie." Sorry.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It's a sad truth. Sad indeed.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="clear: both; text-align: NONE;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img align="middle" alt="Posted by Picasa" border="0" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" style="-moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; border: 0px none; padding: 0px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7989676854656500628-3249389598136679778?l=ingfamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/DxzOlryoZzdP-n1vwAxHX-ohHuU/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/DxzOlryoZzdP-n1vwAxHX-ohHuU/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/The-ingFamily/~4/_6xd7cdIxMY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ingfamily.blogspot.com/feeds/3249389598136679778/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7989676854656500628&amp;postID=3249389598136679778" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7989676854656500628/posts/default/3249389598136679778?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7989676854656500628/posts/default/3249389598136679778?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/The-ingFamily/~3/_6xd7cdIxMY/when-good-naps-go-bad.html" title="When Good Naps Go Bad" /><author><name>Morgan -Ing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04477753070828406848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="25" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_txS9L0vo1GE/S3XPM-F6WcI/AAAAAAAAHn0/RsXzG8qRvHw/S220/100_2779.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Gdfd5rmAq74/TvvXV2Rlm3I/AAAAAAAAKiw/WfU1YtYi9Tk/s72-c/100_1577.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ingfamily.blogspot.com/2011/12/when-good-naps-go-bad.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DU4DRns9fip7ImA9WhRXGUw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7989676854656500628.post-7907263105473581537</id><published>2011-12-26T08:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-26T08:46:17.566-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-26T08:46:17.566-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="kids" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Happy list" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="holidays" /><title>Happy Boxing Day</title><content type="html">Well, hopefully your Christmas was merry and bright.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table style="width: auto;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/fzaeZ5HKY6biQt3MYe-IEOXg_aWvx6-KP3lo72fLD1E?feat=embedwebsite"&gt;&lt;img height="300" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-QZZETyAzM3k/Tvie80Fcm2I/AAAAAAAAKig/_s91mQAyadE/s400/100_1523.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;"&gt;From &lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/morganhagey/December2011?authuser=0&amp;amp;authkey=Gv1sRgCI-vwcfaz96Veg&amp;amp;feat=embedwebsite"&gt;December 2011&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Christmas jammies opening!)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table style="width: auto;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/swT0MqsdOz9AKCH6Olu3MuXg_aWvx6-KP3lo72fLD1E?feat=embedwebsite"&gt;&lt;img height="300" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-nTfPxpQKels/Tvie3ICko0I/AAAAAAAAKiQ/nsgha17VNO4/s400/100_1527.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;"&gt;From &lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/morganhagey/December2011?authuser=0&amp;amp;authkey=Gv1sRgCI-vwcfaz96Veg&amp;amp;feat=embedwebsite"&gt;December 2011&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;i&gt;(Who's excited for Santa tonight?)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Ours started slightly later than I suspected it would, with Spencer waking up his siblings at 6:25am. Could have been MUCH worse, so I'm not complaining.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table style="width: auto;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/zijnbB2zOcwGPcwyk0x2kuXg_aWvx6-KP3lo72fLD1E?feat=embedwebsite"&gt;&lt;img height="300" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-UZW8I33a5iY/TvienxBOmWI/AAAAAAAAKhk/K7o6wSy-1co/s400/100_1538.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;"&gt;From &lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/morganhagey/December2011?authuser=0&amp;amp;authkey=Gv1sRgCI-vwcfaz96Veg&amp;amp;feat=embedwebsite"&gt;December 2011&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
Presents took all of 12 minutes which is partly because there weren't very many and partly because the bigger boys all got the same thing, so they opened at the same time. All that adds up to a quick Christmas morning.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table style="width: auto;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/vvZbXlnAqhwUFTuxxwAtsOXg_aWvx6-KP3lo72fLD1E?feat=embedwebsite"&gt;&lt;img height="300" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-nUYlaZOcp90/Tvied3hT6XI/AAAAAAAAKhI/Pe04c6oCe58/s400/100_1545.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;"&gt;From &lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/morganhagey/December2011?authuser=0&amp;amp;authkey=Gv1sRgCI-vwcfaz96Veg&amp;amp;feat=embedwebsite"&gt;December 2011&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;i&gt;(Favorite gifts? Angry Birds hats and their knights/castle/dragons)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table style="width: auto;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/9RrSbomDOtqmjLRw01wgluXg_aWvx6-KP3lo72fLD1E?feat=embedwebsite"&gt;&lt;img height="300" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-jJnBNuNiM9o/Tviefb2vu5I/AAAAAAAAKhM/cZi7QgTsJDs/s400/100_1544.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;"&gt;From &lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/morganhagey/December2011?authuser=0&amp;amp;authkey=Gv1sRgCI-vwcfaz96Veg&amp;amp;feat=embedwebsite"&gt;December 2011&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;i&gt;(Crazy baby!)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table style="width: auto;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/fllrDO_j-ZtTNA1zmy-KmOXg_aWvx6-KP3lo72fLD1E?feat=embedwebsite"&gt;&lt;img height="300" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-lxTjYOnMmio/TvieZ3oiOgI/AAAAAAAAKg8/Njxq2QT57eQ/s400/100_1548.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;"&gt;From &lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/morganhagey/December2011?authuser=0&amp;amp;authkey=Gv1sRgCI-vwcfaz96Veg&amp;amp;feat=embedwebsite"&gt;December 2011&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But we went to church, ate lunch and hosted Christmas dinner (and I didn't take any pictures then because I was busy) and talked to my missionary brother in Brazil (78 more days!) and made merry the very best that we know how.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table style="width: auto;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/AtONGC_HhF5Y-vuMZOe4_uXg_aWvx6-KP3lo72fLD1E?feat=embedwebsite"&gt;&lt;img height="300" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-r-e5tNR--U4/TvieU22qpGI/AAAAAAAAKgw/QGUpgwuvOd4/s400/100_1551.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;"&gt;From &lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/morganhagey/December2011?authuser=0&amp;amp;authkey=Gv1sRgCI-vwcfaz96Veg&amp;amp;feat=embedwebsite"&gt;December 2011&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
Merry Christmas yesterday friends.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7989676854656500628-7907263105473581537?l=ingfamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/AwBvSWlEifDs_O9tt9GM_X1uKO0/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/AwBvSWlEifDs_O9tt9GM_X1uKO0/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/AwBvSWlEifDs_O9tt9GM_X1uKO0/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/AwBvSWlEifDs_O9tt9GM_X1uKO0/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/The-ingFamily/~4/v-g1fKEpY_c" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ingfamily.blogspot.com/feeds/7907263105473581537/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7989676854656500628&amp;postID=7907263105473581537" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7989676854656500628/posts/default/7907263105473581537?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7989676854656500628/posts/default/7907263105473581537?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/The-ingFamily/~3/v-g1fKEpY_c/happy-boxing-day.html" title="Happy Boxing Day" /><author><name>Morgan -Ing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04477753070828406848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="25" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_txS9L0vo1GE/S3XPM-F6WcI/AAAAAAAAHn0/RsXzG8qRvHw/S220/100_2779.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-QZZETyAzM3k/Tvie80Fcm2I/AAAAAAAAKig/_s91mQAyadE/s72-c/100_1523.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ingfamily.blogspot.com/2011/12/happy-boxing-day.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0ABQns7fSp7ImA9WhRXFU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7989676854656500628.post-3440811965735584531</id><published>2011-12-21T23:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-21T23:42:33.505-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-21T23:42:33.505-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="seriously?" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="kids" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="real life story" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="whining" /><title>This is Brought to You by Migraine Medicine</title><content type="html">Yup. Four Tylenol Migraine pills at 11:30pm. Terrible idea.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But what's a worse idea?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Sobbing into your husband's shoulder because your head has been hurting so badly all day that you accomplished absolutely nothing.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And it hurting so bad that you can't sleep.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Yeah, in the end, it was decided that NOT sleeping was the only option. I could either be awake and in misery, or awake due to serious amounts of caffeine in the migraine meds.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Yes, being awake and NOT in as much pain is much much better.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I have to tell you that yesterday was "pick up trash on our street" for our 12 Days of Service.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It was my favorite.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The boys were crazy about picking up the garbage. There was only about half a bag's worth, but every little wrapper was like a prize.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And when we found a pizza box? Spencer and Henry *might* have tackled one another in order to get in the trash.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
With ten pounds on him, Henry beat out Spencer.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Spencer was not amused.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Like I said, it was my favorite.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now it's nearing 1am, and I need to go down to the cold cold basement and figure out why it's only 63 degrees in my house when the thermostat is set to 67.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Oh my, try, dear friends to not be too terribly jealous of my exciting life.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
High on migraine meds.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Cold house.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Calm down folks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7989676854656500628-3440811965735584531?l=ingfamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3Hz2t9863d-IC81C9tAHiJEegIk/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3Hz2t9863d-IC81C9tAHiJEegIk/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3Hz2t9863d-IC81C9tAHiJEegIk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/3Hz2t9863d-IC81C9tAHiJEegIk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/The-ingFamily/~4/wKw_umrHFwc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ingfamily.blogspot.com/feeds/3440811965735584531/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7989676854656500628&amp;postID=3440811965735584531" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7989676854656500628/posts/default/3440811965735584531?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7989676854656500628/posts/default/3440811965735584531?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/The-ingFamily/~3/wKw_umrHFwc/this-is-brought-to-you-by-migraine.html" title="This is Brought to You by Migraine Medicine" /><author><name>Morgan -Ing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04477753070828406848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="25" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_txS9L0vo1GE/S3XPM-F6WcI/AAAAAAAAHn0/RsXzG8qRvHw/S220/100_2779.JPG" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ingfamily.blogspot.com/2011/12/this-is-brought-to-you-by-migraine.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkQGRXY_fyp7ImA9WhRXE0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7989676854656500628.post-8585909378217717048</id><published>2011-12-19T19:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-19T19:05:24.847-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-19T19:05:24.847-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="kids" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Happy list" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="holidays" /><title>An Early Christmas Present</title><content type="html">So, we bought a family Christmas present and gave it to the kids early for Christmas.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And can I just say it's the best present EVER!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Since Friday (well, we took Sunday off) we've headed over to our local rec center to our reserved racquetball court.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table style="width: auto;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/kYhgoc1NA6yfy_FQWIIhouXg_aWvx6-KP3lo72fLD1E?feat=embedwebsite"&gt;&lt;img height="400" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-VMUbQEoBnbg/Tu_57ne1osI/AAAAAAAAKgY/Ba0JUZUYZjM/s400/IMG_20111219_173014.jpg" width="300" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;"&gt;From &lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/morganhagey/December2011?authuser=0&amp;amp;authkey=Gv1sRgCI-vwcfaz96Veg&amp;amp;feat=embedwebsite"&gt;December 2011&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Six &amp;nbsp;racquetballs (NO RACQUETS!), six people, one enclosed, private gym equates an hour of FUN.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table style="width: auto;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/lieNkzun0Abnqnm7DR5wL-Xg_aWvx6-KP3lo72fLD1E?feat=embedwebsite"&gt;&lt;img height="400" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-nsh_TklpzMU/Tu_58Uam-3I/AAAAAAAAKgc/TvCK9n-bCBA/s400/IMG_20111219_173017.jpg" width="300" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;"&gt;From &lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/morganhagey/December2011?authuser=0&amp;amp;authkey=Gv1sRgCI-vwcfaz96Veg&amp;amp;feat=embedwebsite"&gt;December 2011&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Now, the rec center membership offers far more than just racquetball courts: pools, a basketball court, even ice skating (and a gym for Mom and Dad) but so far, we haven't grown bored of our running around like crazies on the court.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table style="width: auto;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/sdlP3BVcDN3pzvDf9PkB7-Xg_aWvx6-KP3lo72fLD1E?feat=embedwebsite"&gt;&lt;img height="400" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-x7JEewuiK2M/Tu_58zy7pmI/AAAAAAAAKgg/nlYMdg8XieM/s400/IMG_20111219_173025.jpg" width="300" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;"&gt;From &lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/morganhagey/December2011?authuser=0&amp;amp;authkey=Gv1sRgCI-vwcfaz96Veg&amp;amp;feat=embedwebsite"&gt;December 2011&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We almost didn't make it today. We had the furnace AND hot water heater poop out, I wasn't feeling great, Spencer wasn't feeling great, but in the end right before dinner, we squeezed in a half hour.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It was delightful. It was what we needed.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table style="width: auto;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/Sgd4gqEGo8M_B7OgWuh-hOXg_aWvx6-KP3lo72fLD1E?feat=embedwebsite"&gt;&lt;img height="400" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-DS6ZijddvxE/Tu_59pgNcJI/AAAAAAAAKgk/sL9FQdCR55Q/s400/IMG_20111219_174238.jpg" width="300" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;"&gt;From &lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/morganhagey/December2011?authuser=0&amp;amp;authkey=Gv1sRgCI-vwcfaz96Veg&amp;amp;feat=embedwebsite"&gt;December 2011&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Someday, I'm sure we'll hit the pools at least.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But for now, we're content with our little racquetball paradise.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
LOVE!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Merry Christmas!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7989676854656500628-8585909378217717048?l=ingfamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/HotEF6xkSa-rx7Tu03JYd9-_GnE/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/HotEF6xkSa-rx7Tu03JYd9-_GnE/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/HotEF6xkSa-rx7Tu03JYd9-_GnE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/HotEF6xkSa-rx7Tu03JYd9-_GnE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/The-ingFamily/~4/69rB7-jkmMw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ingfamily.blogspot.com/feeds/8585909378217717048/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7989676854656500628&amp;postID=8585909378217717048" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7989676854656500628/posts/default/8585909378217717048?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7989676854656500628/posts/default/8585909378217717048?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/The-ingFamily/~3/69rB7-jkmMw/early-christmas-present.html" title="An Early Christmas Present" /><author><name>Morgan -Ing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04477753070828406848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="25" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_txS9L0vo1GE/S3XPM-F6WcI/AAAAAAAAHn0/RsXzG8qRvHw/S220/100_2779.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-VMUbQEoBnbg/Tu_57ne1osI/AAAAAAAAKgY/Ba0JUZUYZjM/s72-c/IMG_20111219_173014.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ingfamily.blogspot.com/2011/12/early-christmas-present.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ck8DQ385cCp7ImA9WhRQGE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7989676854656500628.post-5864943075140438162</id><published>2011-12-13T18:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-13T18:47:52.128-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-13T18:47:52.128-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="kids" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Happy list" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="homeschool" /><title>The Mess</title><content type="html">One of the "joys" of motherhood is battling crap pile-up.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It's everywhere. All the time.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But the thing I actually don't mind spread everywhere?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Books.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table style="width: auto;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/eaqpp1a3EfzMkRPlQDEjIOXg_aWvx6-KP3lo72fLD1E?feat=embedwebsite"&gt;&lt;img height="400" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-jbCJ3Usjz8Y/TugNXIlRV5I/AAAAAAAAKgQ/4s4IqMPwKf4/s400/IMG_20111213_194047.jpg" width="300" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;"&gt;From &lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/morganhagey/December2011?authuser=0&amp;amp;authkey=Gv1sRgCI-vwcfaz96Veg&amp;amp;feat=embedwebsite"&gt;December 2011&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There are books in every single room of our house. Even the bathrooms.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Every single room. They are spread on the floor, on the shelves, under the beds, on the tables, everywhere.&lt;br /&gt;
I find my babies asleep with books on their faces, under their bums, at their sides.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My children, none of whom can read, are readers.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And I love it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So that mess? I don't mind it in the slightest.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7989676854656500628-5864943075140438162?l=ingfamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/IOSp-bcSI5CVywzmGanPlBiElOY/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/IOSp-bcSI5CVywzmGanPlBiElOY/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/IOSp-bcSI5CVywzmGanPlBiElOY/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/IOSp-bcSI5CVywzmGanPlBiElOY/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/The-ingFamily/~4/87FiwTAI0eA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ingfamily.blogspot.com/feeds/5864943075140438162/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7989676854656500628&amp;postID=5864943075140438162" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7989676854656500628/posts/default/5864943075140438162?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7989676854656500628/posts/default/5864943075140438162?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/The-ingFamily/~3/87FiwTAI0eA/mess.html" title="The Mess" /><author><name>Morgan -Ing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04477753070828406848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="25" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_txS9L0vo1GE/S3XPM-F6WcI/AAAAAAAAHn0/RsXzG8qRvHw/S220/100_2779.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-jbCJ3Usjz8Y/TugNXIlRV5I/AAAAAAAAKgQ/4s4IqMPwKf4/s72-c/IMG_20111213_194047.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ingfamily.blogspot.com/2011/12/mess.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0YBRHYyfyp7ImA9WhRQF0k.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7989676854656500628.post-5174709917173758333</id><published>2011-12-12T18:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-12T18:59:15.897-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-12T18:59:15.897-08:00</app:edited><title>Rules for Holiday Driving</title><content type="html">&lt;table style="width: auto;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/mtTJHLg9lnzgq1vmjzdnhQn6p_W1BPHptLcDQnkvKWo?feat=embedwebsite"&gt;&lt;img height="400" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-QJ32AfCcElE/Tua_QX7DvbI/AAAAAAAAKgI/vRdGXd19X_M/s400/IMG_20111210_132439.jpg" width="300" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;"&gt;From &lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/morganhagey/DropBox?authuser=0&amp;amp;authkey=Gv1sRgCIKY9pzml5SYEg&amp;amp;feat=embedwebsite"&gt;Drop Box&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;i&gt;(Henry and I ventured out the other day for a date. Fun? Yes!)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;Today when we were ham shopping (yes that is a thing), I declared to Derek, "I want to go get everything we need from now to the new year TODAY because I don't want to leave the house again."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Hmm. Not exactly happy, I was.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
See, for some unknown reason people, in their haste to do/go/be where ever seem to have left their brains at home.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
They are driving like crazies.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We live in very populated area. Therefore, we shop in very populated places. Cars EVERYWHERE. People not indicating, cutting others off, zooming. Or, they are driving so slow that it makes you want to run over them.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Either way, my Christmas spirit has not extended to vehicular traffic.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, now may I suggest some rules for driving this Holiday Season?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I may? Thank you!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
1. Use your friggin' turn indicator. Yes, even in parking lots.&lt;br /&gt;
2. Don't drive your car while applying lipstick.&lt;br /&gt;
3. Don't drive while trying to eat a double-double animal style from In N Out.&lt;br /&gt;
4. Don't drive. Period. Take the bus. I can't take the bus because I have four children and a car that wants to be driven. But I bet you could take the bus.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Merry Christmas!&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7989676854656500628-5174709917173758333?l=ingfamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Z3DVHfJRobwo4Kdesc2qCx1EhyI/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Z3DVHfJRobwo4Kdesc2qCx1EhyI/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Z3DVHfJRobwo4Kdesc2qCx1EhyI/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/Z3DVHfJRobwo4Kdesc2qCx1EhyI/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/The-ingFamily/~4/148L9bcnKdQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ingfamily.blogspot.com/feeds/5174709917173758333/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7989676854656500628&amp;postID=5174709917173758333" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7989676854656500628/posts/default/5174709917173758333?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7989676854656500628/posts/default/5174709917173758333?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/The-ingFamily/~3/148L9bcnKdQ/rules-for-holiday-driving.html" title="Rules for Holiday Driving" /><author><name>Morgan -Ing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04477753070828406848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="25" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_txS9L0vo1GE/S3XPM-F6WcI/AAAAAAAAHn0/RsXzG8qRvHw/S220/100_2779.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-QJ32AfCcElE/Tua_QX7DvbI/AAAAAAAAKgI/vRdGXd19X_M/s72-c/IMG_20111210_132439.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ingfamily.blogspot.com/2011/12/rules-for-holiday-driving.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEcARns7fip7ImA9WhRQFks.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7989676854656500628.post-4623390722582390359</id><published>2011-12-11T19:16:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-11T21:00:47.506-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-11T21:00:47.506-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="kids" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Happy list" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Gospel" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="holidays" /><title>The 12 Days of Christmas, with a Twist</title><content type="html">&lt;table style="width: auto;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/URpI08EqIG4x_ZEPXEm61OXg_aWvx6-KP3lo72fLD1E?feat=embedwebsite"&gt;&lt;img height="400" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-J7W7-Q0ngGI/TuVvjE5TtOI/AAAAAAAAKgE/pTtsZaI85jA/s400/IMG_20111210_083212.jpg" width="300" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;"&gt;From &lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/morganhagey/December2011?authuser=0&amp;amp;authkey=Gv1sRgCI-vwcfaz96Veg&amp;amp;feat=embedwebsite"&gt;December 2011&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;i&gt;(This picture has nothing to do with anything. Just more proof of Ezra's insane destructive power!)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I've been mulling over my Christmas spirit these past days.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
You see, I don't feel Grinchy, or Scoogy.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I don't feel quite on the Buddy the Elf level either.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm sort of...happy but uncomfortable. The season has just begun, and I'm glad I have time to sort of ease into it all. My decor is ated, my cookies have been begun baking, "The Polar Express" station is cranked, and our Advent is off with a bang.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And I'm settled in a place of discomfort.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We as a DerekandMorgan are trying to avoid commercialism as much as possible this year. This translates to few gifts and at this point, none purchased from "Big Box Stores."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But does buying gifts from somewhere other than Walmart assure the spirit of Christmas is alive and well &amp;nbsp;in our home?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
No. It does guarantee that the Ghost of Walmart Christmas Past is kept away this year, but that's all,. Besides, where else will I get stocking stuffers?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, we adopted a Senior off the Angel Tree. Her name is Nancy and she's 82. Goodness I love her. I don't know her at all. And I never will. But I love her. On her Christmas list this year: a wall calendar, barrettes, shampoo, lotion and perfume.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Do you see why I love her?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
That helped break me out of my Christmas-Spirit-Discomfort, but no. I'm not *there* yet. I'm not spreading Christmas cheer yet.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This year has been HARD. Wonderful, fulfilling, challenging, beautiful and hard.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And I've been selfish, sort of wrapped up in "My life is this" and "My life is that," and all I can conclude is that I gotta give more than receive.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
God has blessed me and children and my husband immeasurably in the last year. Truly my cup overflows with the bounty we've received.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And it's not even remotely financial in it's goodness. Meaning, I want to give, but we got NOTHIN' to give.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Instead, we've got Nancy, our angel, and we've got some time between now and Christmas.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Thus the 12 Days of Service was born.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We (as a family) will be spending the days from December 13th to December 24th engaging in some act of service every single day.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
No, these are not projects that take all day, and again, with finances being so very tight, we're looking at non-costly options.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Here are the things we'll be doing (one each day):&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Ding Dong Ditch an elder neighbor with a basket of goodies&lt;br /&gt;
Leave a Christmas greeting card on a stranger's windshield&lt;br /&gt;
Grab your change jar and hit as many Salvation Army buckets as you can find around town&lt;br /&gt;
Have your kids each pick something from the toy box to donate on Freecycle or Craigslist.&lt;br /&gt;
Make cookies for your garbage man.&lt;br /&gt;
Clean up the trash on our street (there really isn't much, but we're gonna do it anyway)&lt;br /&gt;
Invite a friend (or friends) over to give their mom a few free hours&lt;br /&gt;
Everywhere we go today, hold the door for people&lt;br /&gt;
Pay for some of someone's stuff behind you in line.&lt;br /&gt;
Make cookies for the fire station near your house&lt;br /&gt;
Write letters to your great grandparents&lt;br /&gt;
Send a Christmas card to a solider&lt;br /&gt;
Donate some canned food to a food drive&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, we'll put all the ideas in a jar, and each day pull one out. We'll talk about how this is helping us to remember Jesus and that at Christmas, service is a good way to share Christ's love for people.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm not sure I can convey to you HOW excited I am about this idea. My children love to help people and serve, and so to give them a little guidance will help them really get into it. Oh it's going to be so fun.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, there ya go, our 12 Days of Service.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Help yourself should you want to get in on the action. Please see the &lt;a href="http://www.randomactsofkindness.org/Kindness-Ideas/Browse/index.php"&gt;Random Acts of Kindness&lt;/a&gt; website for ideas.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7989676854656500628-4623390722582390359?l=ingfamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4YfhBh2WyUQqC9EXxkuQk72Qrts/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4YfhBh2WyUQqC9EXxkuQk72Qrts/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4YfhBh2WyUQqC9EXxkuQk72Qrts/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/4YfhBh2WyUQqC9EXxkuQk72Qrts/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/The-ingFamily/~4/3T7Hr6bBy2A" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ingfamily.blogspot.com/feeds/4623390722582390359/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7989676854656500628&amp;postID=4623390722582390359" title="7 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7989676854656500628/posts/default/4623390722582390359?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7989676854656500628/posts/default/4623390722582390359?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/The-ingFamily/~3/3T7Hr6bBy2A/12-days-of-christmas-with-twist.html" title="The 12 Days of Christmas, with a Twist" /><author><name>Morgan -Ing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04477753070828406848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="25" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_txS9L0vo1GE/S3XPM-F6WcI/AAAAAAAAHn0/RsXzG8qRvHw/S220/100_2779.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-J7W7-Q0ngGI/TuVvjE5TtOI/AAAAAAAAKgE/pTtsZaI85jA/s72-c/IMG_20111210_083212.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>7</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ingfamily.blogspot.com/2011/12/12-days-of-christmas-with-twist.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DE8CRn44eip7ImA9WhRQE0Q.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7989676854656500628.post-515726942226000963</id><published>2011-12-08T18:06:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-08T18:14:27.032-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-08T18:14:27.032-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Ezra" /><title>While I was Washing</title><content type="html">&lt;table style="width: auto;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/s4Z3SsBKkFPlXsp55wgO_uXg_aWvx6-KP3lo72fLD1E?feat=embedwebsite"&gt;&lt;img height="400" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-xaojDZWNmU4/TuFt0GSAuYI/AAAAAAAAKf4/GvdMxzpmpHY/s400/IMG_20111206_131339.jpg" width="300" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;"&gt;From &lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/morganhagey/December2011?authuser=0&amp;amp;authkey=Gv1sRgCI-vwcfaz96Veg&amp;amp;feat=embedwebsite"&gt;December 2011&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
A nice shiny, empty sink. Ahhh. Beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Wait... While I was busy dish doing...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table style="width: auto;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/Ne10mbSe5Rew2OCFluUiQuXg_aWvx6-KP3lo72fLD1E?feat=embedwebsite"&gt;&lt;img height="400" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-3EGbU2_eNQM/TuFt1BUl6fI/AAAAAAAAKf8/mFgDRvyI0j4/s400/IMG_20111206_131401.jpg" width="300" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;"&gt;From &lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/morganhagey/December2011?authuser=0&amp;amp;authkey=Gv1sRgCI-vwcfaz96Veg&amp;amp;feat=embedwebsite"&gt;December 2011&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;table style="width: auto;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/1R0N6ypQCYnbTQXk63Z1suXg_aWvx6-KP3lo72fLD1E?feat=embedwebsite"&gt;&lt;img height="400" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-DpKxqSrG-sc/TuFt14LsBiI/AAAAAAAAKgA/h0wtVZM4HWY/s400/IMG_20111206_131413.jpg" width="300" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;"&gt;From &lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/morganhagey/December2011?authuser=0&amp;amp;authkey=Gv1sRgCI-vwcfaz96Veg&amp;amp;feat=embedwebsite"&gt;December 2011&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table style="width: auto;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/Gsx0a7w0H_cpvf3A4fxdt-Xg_aWvx6-KP3lo72fLD1E?feat=embedwebsite"&gt;&lt;img height="400" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-t2_Mj8Q663g/TuFtynWl-HI/AAAAAAAAKf0/RBkfiz3sveE/s400/IMG_20111205_191536.jpg" width="300" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;"&gt;From &lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/morganhagey/December2011?authuser=0&amp;amp;authkey=Gv1sRgCI-vwcfaz96Veg&amp;amp;feat=embedwebsite"&gt;December 2011&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Ah yes, no wonder I was able to do the dishes in peace for once. My little destroying hurricane had been here...emptying everything in sight. &amp;nbsp;It is VERY lucky he is SO ridiculously cute.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7989676854656500628-515726942226000963?l=ingfamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/fLq0hh17tOVXK7JrJaKnYi3Tsaw/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/fLq0hh17tOVXK7JrJaKnYi3Tsaw/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/fLq0hh17tOVXK7JrJaKnYi3Tsaw/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/fLq0hh17tOVXK7JrJaKnYi3Tsaw/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/The-ingFamily/~4/7jW6eCMx1lw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ingfamily.blogspot.com/feeds/515726942226000963/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7989676854656500628&amp;postID=515726942226000963" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7989676854656500628/posts/default/515726942226000963?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7989676854656500628/posts/default/515726942226000963?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/The-ingFamily/~3/7jW6eCMx1lw/while-i-was-washing.html" title="While I was Washing" /><author><name>Morgan -Ing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04477753070828406848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="25" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_txS9L0vo1GE/S3XPM-F6WcI/AAAAAAAAHn0/RsXzG8qRvHw/S220/100_2779.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-xaojDZWNmU4/TuFt0GSAuYI/AAAAAAAAKf4/GvdMxzpmpHY/s72-c/IMG_20111206_131339.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ingfamily.blogspot.com/2011/12/while-i-was-washing.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkcDQ384eSp7ImA9WhRQEk8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7989676854656500628.post-3508760280680983624</id><published>2011-12-06T19:16:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-06T19:21:12.131-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-06T19:21:12.131-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Happy list" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Spencer" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Henry" /><title>Can't NOT Post This</title><content type="html">I have much to tell you! Ezra carefully tackling his birthday cake... a post about our Christmas project that I am INSANELY excited about. (OH MY GOSH!)... General musings about the trashed state of my home... you know, BIG stuff.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But all of that pales in comparison to the pictures I'm about to show you.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Derek took Henry and Spencer out on a mini-date and this is the souvenir they brought home with them:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table style="width: auto;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/PXTm6DTBI3w0vYnbIOHQb-Xg_aWvx6-KP3lo72fLD1E?feat=embedwebsite"&gt;&lt;img height="400" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-jb1kdkzUC0E/Tt7aIy9YSfI/AAAAAAAAKfw/eBqRyoWxaLE/s400/IMG_20111206_195802.jpg" width="300" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;"&gt;From &lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/morganhagey/December2011?authuser=0&amp;amp;authkey=Gv1sRgCI-vwcfaz96Veg&amp;amp;feat=embedwebsite"&gt;December 2011&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;table style="width: auto;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/COfToOzbvFygWRP0qNlq6-Xg_aWvx6-KP3lo72fLD1E?feat=embedwebsite"&gt;&lt;img height="400" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-fH-BJmemdP8/Tt7aHDw_u0I/AAAAAAAAKfs/rHRwV9ceZN0/s400/IMG_20111206_195744.jpg" width="300" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;"&gt;From &lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/morganhagey/December2011?authuser=0&amp;amp;authkey=Gv1sRgCI-vwcfaz96Veg&amp;amp;feat=embedwebsite"&gt;December 2011&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
That is all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7989676854656500628-3508760280680983624?l=ingfamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/NBLd9lWstzUlTGirLXOtAkgwyyE/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/NBLd9lWstzUlTGirLXOtAkgwyyE/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/NBLd9lWstzUlTGirLXOtAkgwyyE/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/NBLd9lWstzUlTGirLXOtAkgwyyE/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/The-ingFamily/~4/aR6yc7uXAAc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ingfamily.blogspot.com/feeds/3508760280680983624/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7989676854656500628&amp;postID=3508760280680983624" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7989676854656500628/posts/default/3508760280680983624?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7989676854656500628/posts/default/3508760280680983624?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/The-ingFamily/~3/aR6yc7uXAAc/cant-not-post-this.html" title="Can't NOT Post This" /><author><name>Morgan -Ing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04477753070828406848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="25" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_txS9L0vo1GE/S3XPM-F6WcI/AAAAAAAAHn0/RsXzG8qRvHw/S220/100_2779.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-jb1kdkzUC0E/Tt7aIy9YSfI/AAAAAAAAKfw/eBqRyoWxaLE/s72-c/IMG_20111206_195802.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ingfamily.blogspot.com/2011/12/cant-not-post-this.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkAGSXszeyp7ImA9WhRQEU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7989676854656500628.post-4855438270199381184</id><published>2011-12-05T08:32:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-05T18:32:08.583-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-05T18:32:08.583-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Ezra. Happy list" /><title>Ezra is One.</title><content type="html">I find it rude that my baby turns ONE today.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table style="width: auto;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/J6kPbMkidYq_f4mwQ5ECYOXg_aWvx6-KP3lo72fLD1E?feat=embedwebsite"&gt;&lt;img height="400" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-f2m1cjsw3Tc/Tt0j6Z9ZE2I/AAAAAAAAKfo/CRkfASQI-UQ/s400/IMG_20111204_181131.jpg" width="300" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;"&gt;From &lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/morganhagey/December2011?authuser=0&amp;amp;authkey=Gv1sRgCI-vwcfaz96Veg&amp;amp;feat=embedwebsite"&gt;December 2011&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
(Derek telling Ez, "It's YOUR birthday!")&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
What a year.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table style="width: auto;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/E0PO7x7F5m9GPbJDXAva8uXg_aWvx6-KP3lo72fLD1E?feat=embedwebsite"&gt;&lt;img height="400" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Wt99ZQUfmLc/Tt0jpwEClsI/AAAAAAAAKfk/uQl9tvy-vsY/s400/IMG_20111205_113024.jpg" width="300" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;"&gt;From &lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/morganhagey/December2011?authuser=0&amp;amp;authkey=Gv1sRgCI-vwcfaz96Veg&amp;amp;feat=embedwebsite"&gt;December 2011&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
(Ezra enjoying Barbacoa for his Birthday Lunch.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
At ONE year old Ezra:&lt;br /&gt;
is a tiny destroying force of nature. He empties drawers, cupboards, buckets, cups, shelves and anything else he can get his hands on, so fast it's like a tornado hit.&lt;br /&gt;
doesn't care for carbs. He tends to spit out bread unless it's slathered in peanut butter and jelly.&lt;br /&gt;
eats up anything other than carbs. His favorites are peaches, olives, meat of any kind, beans and rice, and bananas.&lt;br /&gt;
loves drinking from a straw. Any drink with a straw, he believes is HIS.&lt;br /&gt;
doesn't walk. He's kinda close, maybe, but not really. He crawls and cruises and gets where he wants to be.&lt;br /&gt;
has the CUTEST smile and crinkly eyes on the planet.&lt;br /&gt;
is very very very very not weaned. Very.&lt;br /&gt;
doesn't sleep through the night. At all. Not even close really.&lt;br /&gt;
says, "All done" "dada" "mama" and "yeah".&lt;br /&gt;
adores being adored by his brothers.&lt;br /&gt;
is daddy's best friend.&lt;br /&gt;
will be your friend so long as he is safely in Mama's arms.&lt;br /&gt;
weighs 19lbs 13 oz.&lt;br /&gt;
has two and a half teeth.&lt;br /&gt;
loves playing ball.&lt;br /&gt;
makes car noises with toy cars.&lt;br /&gt;
claps and plays peekaboo.&lt;br /&gt;
folds his arms for prayers and says, "All done" instead of "amen".&lt;br /&gt;
is my favorite Ezra ever.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I never get tired of his smiling face. I adore him and find him to be hysterical.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I can't wrap my mind around the fact that &lt;a href="http://ingfamily.blogspot.com/2010/12/worlds-longest-homebirth-story-story.html"&gt;he's been with us for a year&lt;/a&gt;. A year. Oh my.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And he's made our family different, better, happier. He's changed us all.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Happy Birthday Booby Baby. We love you so.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7989676854656500628-4855438270199381184?l=ingfamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7b_F75BgwyuAGfS50MSbOpK9hTo/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7b_F75BgwyuAGfS50MSbOpK9hTo/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7b_F75BgwyuAGfS50MSbOpK9hTo/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/7b_F75BgwyuAGfS50MSbOpK9hTo/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/The-ingFamily/~4/BjckcMwO8GI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ingfamily.blogspot.com/feeds/4855438270199381184/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7989676854656500628&amp;postID=4855438270199381184" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7989676854656500628/posts/default/4855438270199381184?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7989676854656500628/posts/default/4855438270199381184?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/The-ingFamily/~3/BjckcMwO8GI/ezra-is-one.html" title="Ezra is One." /><author><name>Morgan -Ing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04477753070828406848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="25" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_txS9L0vo1GE/S3XPM-F6WcI/AAAAAAAAHn0/RsXzG8qRvHw/S220/100_2779.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-f2m1cjsw3Tc/Tt0j6Z9ZE2I/AAAAAAAAKfo/CRkfASQI-UQ/s72-c/IMG_20111204_181131.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ingfamily.blogspot.com/2011/12/ezra-is-one.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkMAQXg_fyp7ImA9WhRRF0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7989676854656500628.post-433196786026662195</id><published>2011-11-30T19:24:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-30T19:34:00.647-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-30T19:34:00.647-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="seriously?" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="whining" /><title>My Fingers</title><content type="html">Now it's almost winter. Thanks to winter we all have *issues* in this house with dry...skin. Oh I hate the word "skin".&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I will now spend the next 5-6 months slathering dry little parts with creams and lotions. It's a full-time job.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Henry: Face and hands&lt;br /&gt;
Spencer: Legs and backs of knees (you should SEE the backs of his knees...)&lt;br /&gt;
Oliver: Face and arms&lt;br /&gt;
Ezra: Hands, bum and legs&lt;br /&gt;
Derek: Hands&lt;br /&gt;
Morgan: Fingers&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table style="width: auto;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/saI2knpE6GxWeZqAri8nW0Q76MPqEJuGRddfd5LtyLk?feat=embedwebsite"&gt;&lt;img height="300" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-lydMA_qdqdQ/Ttb0JVG5qOI/AAAAAAAAKfQ/Y_IG8uz4hrs/s400/107_1391.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;"&gt;From &lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/morganhagey/November2011?authuser=0&amp;amp;authkey=Gv1sRgCJqQyfX49LLYWg&amp;amp;feat=embedwebsite"&gt;November 2011&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My poor, poor finger will spend the entirety of the cold weather season split and bloody. When I put the necessary bandaids on, everything gets wet and then I become quite concerned that my fingers are going to mold. It's very nerve-wracking. But if I don't cover them, then any bump[ or hit causes bleeding and ridiculous amounts of pain for the small-ness of the injuries.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It's embarrassing.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I've tried liquid bandages. No dice. First, it washes off. (Did you know I wash my hands approximately 22 times a day?) Second, it hurts so terribly to put it ON the open cracked skin that I get nauseated.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I've had four children with no drugs. I'd rather do that than glue my fingers back together. Pathetic huh?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So I keep buying bandages, and Oliver keeps opening them all and sticking them places and there you go. My winter, coming right at me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Happy almost-December!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7989676854656500628-433196786026662195?l=ingfamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/E0u1BEurLwdpO42Fkq1LypdIKKk/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/E0u1BEurLwdpO42Fkq1LypdIKKk/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/E0u1BEurLwdpO42Fkq1LypdIKKk/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/E0u1BEurLwdpO42Fkq1LypdIKKk/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/The-ingFamily/~4/4g0RE0RDbE4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ingfamily.blogspot.com/feeds/433196786026662195/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7989676854656500628&amp;postID=433196786026662195" title="10 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7989676854656500628/posts/default/433196786026662195?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7989676854656500628/posts/default/433196786026662195?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/The-ingFamily/~3/4g0RE0RDbE4/my-fingers.html" title="My Fingers" /><author><name>Morgan -Ing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04477753070828406848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="25" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_txS9L0vo1GE/S3XPM-F6WcI/AAAAAAAAHn0/RsXzG8qRvHw/S220/100_2779.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-lydMA_qdqdQ/Ttb0JVG5qOI/AAAAAAAAKfQ/Y_IG8uz4hrs/s72-c/107_1391.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>10</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ingfamily.blogspot.com/2011/11/my-fingers.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEYDSXY5fSp7ImA9WhRRFk8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7989676854656500628.post-8385736518410147008</id><published>2011-11-29T19:52:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-29T20:09:38.825-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-29T20:09:38.825-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="stupid dog" /><title>Stupid Dog</title><content type="html">&lt;table style="width: auto;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/ai-84zXUtVNXVNBO5AeHPL6K5IU4eynHR_k2YalZlTI?feat=embedwebsite"&gt;&lt;img height="400" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-jBy-xdIlTUg/Tml95qFtSlI/AAAAAAAAKVU/mqNIUW-Szbc/s400/IMG_20110908_141901.jpg" width="300" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;"&gt;From &lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/morganhagey/September2011?authuser=0&amp;amp;authkey=Gv1sRgCN_snPH1h4C9-AE&amp;amp;feat=embedwebsite"&gt;September 2011&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
The one member of our family who gets very little face time is the one of the four-legged kind.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Today, he declared he'd had enough of being the one who no one notices!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
For the record, WE notice him. WE love him, but come on, blog-worthy antics? Almost never.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Well, now. Like I said, he decided to bring himself to the forefront of our story.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
We ran to the book store and the bank and were gone approximately an hour. We were excited to come home to simmering homemade tomato soup and delicious bread.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
We typically shut Jonah (the dog) down in the basement in our absence because Mr. Rescue Dog has an affinity for trash-rooting and bed-laying, two things which we do not take kindly to.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
So, I saunter on down to let him up so he can wag his tail and wait patiently for Ezra and Oliver to drop delectable bits to his level.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I had left the backdoor open for him to do his typical afternoon doody/duty while we were gone. On a normal day, the backyard is a perfectly respectable place for him to chill.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Well, as I was walking around, he was NO WHERE. I saw that the back gate had been left just slightly &amp;nbsp;ajar.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I stood staring, dumbfounded. Jonah has been in our family for two years, and even when I've left the gate WIDE open before (yes, of course it's happened) he's never come close to wandering away.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I was... to be clear... confused.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
He'd gone, that much was clear. But um, why? And where to?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
So, we left our dinner to simmer and our bread to crustify, and went in search of our long-lost-puppy-pants.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Our across-the-street neighbor whom we've never met was out doing yard work. We approached and asked. He had INDEED seen our stupid dog wandering and suggested we hit the vet up the street, see if they've had someone drop him there. We headed over.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
No, they did not have him, and why oh why haven't we changed over his microchip to our information?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Um, not remotely helpful right this minute.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
They did help by giving us the name and number of an Office V...something, I'll call him Officer V, who is in charge of code enforcement. He apparently is the ONE to call when one's doggie has gone missing.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
So, I called him, feeling stupid. It's been an hour. There is no way he's been caught. He's off chasing cats and hasn't even realized it's time to come HOME.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I left a message.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Office V called me back with a phone number, and wished me good luck.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I called the number.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
A kid name Cale (okay, I changed his name) answered.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
"Mottled color? Blue collar? Sweetest dog in the world? Yup. I've got him."&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
So, we raced up the hill (exactly three blocks from our house) and found Jonah happy as a clam.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Stupid dog.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
"He didn't look underfed... but I gave him food and water anyway," Cale explained.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
"Thank you! Where was he?" I asked.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;"Standing in the middle of that street," he pointed through the trees to a much-busier-than-I-would-like street. I sighed, "Stupid dog," I repeated.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
It turns out Cale had brought him home but didn't know what to do with a dog with a collar but no tags, so he asked a neighbor who then gave him Officer V's number. He called Officer V and said, "If anyone calls about their dog, I've got him." According to Officer V, this was five minutes before we called him.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Thank goodness for kind neighbors, nice Officers and helpful Vet offices.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Because everyone was very distraught. Henry was in tears at the thought of his lost dog.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
And Spencer? When we pulled into the Vet's parking lot asked, "Are we here to get a new dog?"&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Then we got home, Spencer asked, "Is this REALLY Jonah?"&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Oh.my.gosh. He was gone for AN HOUR.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Sheesh.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Stupid dog.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7989676854656500628-8385736518410147008?l=ingfamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dX6RQ-Fq9Qo0SXke7Je7yw9vgho/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dX6RQ-Fq9Qo0SXke7Je7yw9vgho/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dX6RQ-Fq9Qo0SXke7Je7yw9vgho/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/dX6RQ-Fq9Qo0SXke7Je7yw9vgho/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/The-ingFamily/~4/0IIej1WMRD8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ingfamily.blogspot.com/feeds/8385736518410147008/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7989676854656500628&amp;postID=8385736518410147008" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7989676854656500628/posts/default/8385736518410147008?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7989676854656500628/posts/default/8385736518410147008?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/The-ingFamily/~3/0IIej1WMRD8/stupid-dog.html" title="Stupid Dog" /><author><name>Morgan -Ing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04477753070828406848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="25" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_txS9L0vo1GE/S3XPM-F6WcI/AAAAAAAAHn0/RsXzG8qRvHw/S220/100_2779.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-jBy-xdIlTUg/Tml95qFtSlI/AAAAAAAAKVU/mqNIUW-Szbc/s72-c/IMG_20110908_141901.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ingfamily.blogspot.com/2011/11/stupid-dog.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DU8DQHw7cCp7ImA9WhRRFU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7989676854656500628.post-414712660513268713</id><published>2011-11-28T19:25:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-28T19:37:51.208-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-28T19:37:51.208-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="kids" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Happy list" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="holidays" /><title>Post-Thanksgiving FAIL</title><content type="html">Well, I failed. I took not a single photo of our lovely family Thanksgiving that also included dear friends driving their tushies all the way from SEATTLE. FAIL.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
We ate. We played. We got a Christmas tree, we went to see the lights at Temple Square. All perfect and beautiful.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And my camera remained buried in my purse.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I can't explain it. I just suck. Oh I guess that DOES explain it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I did however manage to pull my head out and my camera out in order to capture our lovely Christmas decorating fiasco/great time. I do not wish my life away, but I can't help think it will be nice to decorate a Christmas tree without saying every two seconds, "WAIT! DON'T TOUCH!" as they grab at things fragile and delicate. Silly boys.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Our tree this year smells divine and delightful. It's got longish needles and basically looks like a picture perfect Christmas tree. Add our hodge-podge decor and it's a dream. Wanna see?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Of course you do.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;table style="width: auto;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/0XmsQ8P_wHLAUmA6Vs92YkQ76MPqEJuGRddfd5LtyLk?feat=embedwebsite"&gt;&lt;img height="300" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-ez15GYsLljY/TtRQGdKkzqI/AAAAAAAAKes/eb761c6VUUE/s400/107_1368.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;"&gt;From &lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/morganhagey/November2011?authuser=0&amp;amp;authkey=Gv1sRgCJqQyfX49LLYWg&amp;amp;feat=embedwebsite"&gt;November 2011&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;table style="width: auto;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/gzJRrjdXhAX6iqK5zabh40Q76MPqEJuGRddfd5LtyLk?feat=embedwebsite"&gt;&lt;img height="400" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/--wyKUVunPew/TtRQIOfQ07I/AAAAAAAAKew/KCN73jSPDcc/s400/107_1369.JPG" width="300" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;"&gt;From &lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/morganhagey/November2011?authuser=0&amp;amp;authkey=Gv1sRgCJqQyfX49LLYWg&amp;amp;feat=embedwebsite"&gt;November 2011&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;table style="width: auto;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/H9s0mzDhXxSpSgd5hSBQBkQ76MPqEJuGRddfd5LtyLk?feat=embedwebsite"&gt;&lt;img height="300" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-VJp7_CGhoSI/TtRQJKFuTSI/AAAAAAAAKe0/GoajsyY4jPs/s400/107_1370.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;"&gt;From &lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/morganhagey/November2011?authuser=0&amp;amp;authkey=Gv1sRgCJqQyfX49LLYWg&amp;amp;feat=embedwebsite"&gt;November 2011&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;table style="width: auto;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/jdyttJfsofNNfLuvZFZrNEQ76MPqEJuGRddfd5LtyLk?feat=embedwebsite"&gt;&lt;img height="300" src="https://lh5.googleusercontent.com/-EzyEdzYpxZ0/TtRQKEYUOXI/AAAAAAAAKe4/sh0X5XCBD5Q/s400/107_1371.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;"&gt;From &lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/morganhagey/November2011?authuser=0&amp;amp;authkey=Gv1sRgCJqQyfX49LLYWg&amp;amp;feat=embedwebsite"&gt;November 2011&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;table style="width: auto;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/zhT0e7ocVXQPRHxGZse1F0Q76MPqEJuGRddfd5LtyLk?feat=embedwebsite"&gt;&lt;img height="300" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-DnapOBfnWO8/TtRQLAPlTUI/AAAAAAAAKe8/1pnvMoDTCnM/s400/107_1372.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;"&gt;From &lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/morganhagey/November2011?authuser=0&amp;amp;authkey=Gv1sRgCJqQyfX49LLYWg&amp;amp;feat=embedwebsite"&gt;November 2011&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;table style="width: auto;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/eT3uzoxpjTUO680yox73YUQ76MPqEJuGRddfd5LtyLk?feat=embedwebsite"&gt;&lt;img height="300" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-vgMkdcQC1u4/TtRQMfhMdXI/AAAAAAAAKfA/tDe5DJZcjT0/s400/107_1373.JPG" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;"&gt;From &lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/morganhagey/November2011?authuser=0&amp;amp;authkey=Gv1sRgCJqQyfX49LLYWg&amp;amp;feat=embedwebsite"&gt;November 2011&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
&lt;table style="width: auto;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/nJgiOjWo67eCv4B51kCIMEQ76MPqEJuGRddfd5LtyLk?feat=embedwebsite"&gt;&lt;img height="400" src="https://lh4.googleusercontent.com/-Gi_BruMCuiQ/TtRQN5xUBEI/AAAAAAAAKfE/torg86oyGzM/s400/107_1374.JPG" width="300" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;"&gt;From &lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/morganhagey/November2011?authuser=0&amp;amp;authkey=Gv1sRgCJqQyfX49LLYWg&amp;amp;feat=embedwebsite"&gt;November 2011&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
See? Picture perfect. I love Christmas. We rounded out the evening with peppermint hot chocolate and pumpkin pie. I mean, seriously, if Ezra could find his pants, we'd be pretty much set.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
If you're interested in flashing back, &lt;a href="http://ingfamily.blogspot.com/2010/11/its-christmas-time-in-city.html"&gt;here's 2010, just days before Ezra made his appearance&lt;/a&gt;.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;a href="http://ingfamily.blogspot.com/2009/12/christmas-bells-are-ringing.html"&gt;Further back: 2009&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;a href="http://ingfamily.blogspot.com/2008/12/day-of-decor.html"&gt;Even further: 2008&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I began this here blog in December 2007 but apparently skipped the decorating part of that month. Crazy how these people grow... not to mention that we keep adding MORE to the mix.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Merry Christmas friends, merry Christmas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7989676854656500628-414712660513268713?l=ingfamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MvEvw3TFvlLJOp02G97oUKFQoQg/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MvEvw3TFvlLJOp02G97oUKFQoQg/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MvEvw3TFvlLJOp02G97oUKFQoQg/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/MvEvw3TFvlLJOp02G97oUKFQoQg/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/The-ingFamily/~4/gYI0okSglys" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ingfamily.blogspot.com/feeds/414712660513268713/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7989676854656500628&amp;postID=414712660513268713" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7989676854656500628/posts/default/414712660513268713?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7989676854656500628/posts/default/414712660513268713?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/The-ingFamily/~3/gYI0okSglys/post-thanksgiving-fail.html" title="Post-Thanksgiving FAIL" /><author><name>Morgan -Ing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04477753070828406848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="25" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_txS9L0vo1GE/S3XPM-F6WcI/AAAAAAAAHn0/RsXzG8qRvHw/S220/100_2779.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-ez15GYsLljY/TtRQGdKkzqI/AAAAAAAAKes/eb761c6VUUE/s72-c/107_1368.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ingfamily.blogspot.com/2011/11/post-thanksgiving-fail.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0YERHk6cCp7ImA9WhRREE8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7989676854656500628.post-8933373775967434684</id><published>2011-11-22T19:57:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-22T20:05:05.718-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-22T20:05:05.718-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Happy list" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="holidays" /><title>A Thankful Post</title><content type="html">&lt;table style="width: auto;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/vlJHnDR4OasJxYSmJK6CsQn6p_W1BPHptLcDQnkvKWo?feat=embedwebsite"&gt;&lt;img height="300" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-7wZBhCLCZJE/TsxviBAWpwI/AAAAAAAAKek/S-Cto4M12f0/s400/IMG_20111119_121131.jpg" width="400" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;"&gt;From &lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/morganhagey/DropBox?authuser=0&amp;amp;authkey=Gv1sRgCIKY9pzml5SYEg&amp;amp;feat=embedwebsite"&gt;Drop Box&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
So what? I'm doing a "thankful" post, like every other blogger on the planet. DEAL WITH IT.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I am grateful to my Father in Heaven for ALL good things in my life. I can't possibly list it all, so I'll just do the best I can.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I am thankful for my husband, for our marriage, for the life we are building each day.&lt;br /&gt;
I'm thankful for my stinky boys.&lt;br /&gt;
I am thankful that today was a good day.&lt;br /&gt;
I'm thankful to be a mother, to know these small people in this way.&lt;br /&gt;
I'm thankful for sleep. It's elusive and rare to get much these days, but the moments I do get are delicious.&lt;br /&gt;
I'm thankful for my home, for a warm place to be, and for food.&lt;br /&gt;
I'm grateful for diet coke....&lt;br /&gt;
I'm thankful for clothes, both for fashion and for comfort.&lt;br /&gt;
I'm thankful for leaning, for knowledge.&lt;br /&gt;
I'm thankful for technology.&lt;br /&gt;
I'm thankful for hot chocolate.&lt;br /&gt;
For baby smiles.&lt;br /&gt;For our cars.&lt;br /&gt;
For my life.&lt;br /&gt;
My Savior.&lt;br /&gt;
My God.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm thankful.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7989676854656500628-8933373775967434684?l=ingfamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/PkJaR6Mq-YJe-mwYJhzQnoqVa7k/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/PkJaR6Mq-YJe-mwYJhzQnoqVa7k/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/PkJaR6Mq-YJe-mwYJhzQnoqVa7k/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/PkJaR6Mq-YJe-mwYJhzQnoqVa7k/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/The-ingFamily/~4/1Q0qqOeQ004" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ingfamily.blogspot.com/feeds/8933373775967434684/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7989676854656500628&amp;postID=8933373775967434684" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7989676854656500628/posts/default/8933373775967434684?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7989676854656500628/posts/default/8933373775967434684?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/The-ingFamily/~3/1Q0qqOeQ004/thankful-post.html" title="A Thankful Post" /><author><name>Morgan -Ing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04477753070828406848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="25" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_txS9L0vo1GE/S3XPM-F6WcI/AAAAAAAAHn0/RsXzG8qRvHw/S220/100_2779.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-7wZBhCLCZJE/TsxviBAWpwI/AAAAAAAAKek/S-Cto4M12f0/s72-c/IMG_20111119_121131.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ingfamily.blogspot.com/2011/11/thankful-post.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DU4ER3g-fCp7ImA9WhRSGU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7989676854656500628.post-5300516376752562776</id><published>2011-11-21T18:08:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-11-21T18:11:46.654-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-11-21T18:11:46.654-08:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="seriously?" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="whining" /><title>Here we go again.</title><content type="html">&lt;table style="width: auto;"&gt;&lt;tbody&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/lh/photo/k27q1Af_Dd7JU9cpoYpyikQ76MPqEJuGRddfd5LtyLk?feat=embedwebsite"&gt;&lt;img height="400" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-YKXLKZGAJAY/TssDjl7VhfI/AAAAAAAAKeY/aI_wSL6VRik/s400/IMG_20111121_182308.jpg" width="300" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td style="font-family: arial,sans-serif; font-size: 11px; text-align: right;"&gt;From &lt;a href="https://picasaweb.google.com/morganhagey/November2011?authuser=0&amp;amp;authkey=Gv1sRgCJqQyfX49LLYWg&amp;amp;feat=embedwebsite"&gt;November 2011&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;
&lt;/tbody&gt;&lt;/table&gt;
What's this weird "6:00" on the wall?&amp;nbsp;&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I'm glad you asked.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
It's our last-ditch, desperate effort to keep our children from dragging us from our bed at 4:30 am. I'm not kidding. No, I am not.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
We went and bought clocks for the children. We spent Family Home Evening discussion what a "6" looks like on the clock. And explaining that if they manage to keep it quiet until 6:00am, they earn a cotton ball each. When the jar is full of cotton balls, they win a prize.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
If they fail (oh they shall fail most spectacularly says the rare pessimist in me) they lose a cotton ball.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
We are desperate.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
And exhausted.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
And hating Daylight Savings Time so much that it makes me want to vomit.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Try to understand: we are begging/bribing our children to stay in bed until SIX O CLOCK IN THE MORNING. This is very very pathetic.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I'll keep ya posted.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7989676854656500628-5300516376752562776?l=ingfamily.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xpgctY8G-64eggZeKJ1OYhSynZ4/0/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xpgctY8G-64eggZeKJ1OYhSynZ4/0/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;
&lt;a href="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xpgctY8G-64eggZeKJ1OYhSynZ4/1/da"&gt;&lt;img src="http://feedads.g.doubleclick.net/~a/xpgctY8G-64eggZeKJ1OYhSynZ4/1/di" border="0" ismap="true"&gt;&lt;/img&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/The-ingFamily/~4/Eb8C7pSlWDE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://ingfamily.blogspot.com/feeds/5300516376752562776/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=7989676854656500628&amp;postID=5300516376752562776" title="9 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7989676854656500628/posts/default/5300516376752562776?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/7989676854656500628/posts/default/5300516376752562776?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/The-ingFamily/~3/Eb8C7pSlWDE/here-we-go-again.html" title="Here we go again." /><author><name>Morgan -Ing</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/04477753070828406848</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="25" height="32" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_txS9L0vo1GE/S3XPM-F6WcI/AAAAAAAAHn0/RsXzG8qRvHw/S220/100_2779.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-YKXLKZGAJAY/TssDjl7VhfI/AAAAAAAAKeY/aI_wSL6VRik/s72-c/IMG_20111121_182308.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>9</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://ingfamily.blogspot.com/2011/11/here-we-go-again.html</feedburner:origLink></entry></feed>

