<?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;CUEMQX4yeip7ImA9WhRUF08.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107375858151401170</id><updated>2012-01-27T21:08:00.092-07:00</updated><category term="Help me" /><category term="Cars" /><category term="I shouldn't have done that thing I did" /><category term="Babies" /><category term="Sick" /><category term="Crazy? Why yes I am thank you." /><category term="Hair" /><category term="Potty Training" /><category term="Family" /><category term="Parenting" /><category term="Free Stuff" /><category term="Friends" /><category term="Grown Up" /><category term="Memories" /><category term="Firsts" /><category term="From the mind of Thomas" /><category term="I'm an emotional wreck" /><category term="House" /><category term="Swimmin'" /><category term="Excuses" /><category term="Zoo" /><category term="Montana" /><category term="Moving" /><category term="job" /><category term="Games" /><category term="Ward" /><category term="Baby" /><category term="Germs" /><category term="Sunday" /><category term="Reilley's" /><category term="Little John" /><category term="Shopping" /><category term="Food" /><category term="Mother" /><category term="Work" /><category term="Reilleys" /><category term="Money" /><category term="Sweet moments as a mom" /><category term="Sissies" /><category term="Tommy" /><category term="Testimony" /><category term="Lists" /><category term="School" /><category term="Holidays" /><category term="Plants" /><category term="Official age advancement" /><category term="TV" /><category term="Salesmen" /><category term="Happy" /><category term="Pregnancy" /><category term="Running" /><category term="I rock" /><category term="Toys" /><category term="Pets" /><category term="Decisions" /><category term="Weddings" /><category term="Christmas" /><category term="Music" /><category term="Why do I even try?" /><category term="bad idea" /><category term="Confessions" /><category term="Breastfeeding" /><category term="Lessons in motherhood" /><category term="Baby Belly" /><category term="Dr." /><category term="Vacation" /><category term="Camping" /><category term="Favorites" /><category term="Old" /><category term="Fears" /><category term="I'm a dork" /><category term="Did you know" /><category term="Vacations" /><category term="You are welcome" /><category term="Swimmin" /><category term="Laundry" /><category term="Church" /><category term="Brothers" /><category term="I can do hard things" /><category term="Snow" /><category term="Sleep" /><category term="Resolutions" /><category term="Birthdays" /><category term="Baby Thomas" /><category term="Vehicles" /><category term="Bad Habits" /><category term="one thing I love about..." /><category term="Movies" /><category term="Sports" /><category term="Death" /><category term="Hiking" /><category term="Murphy's Law" /><category term="Books" /><category term="Josh" /><title>Two Scoops</title><subtitle type="html" /><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107375858151401170/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Amy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10650216689414959056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aizmcBJ-xN4/TrxmVKot1-I/AAAAAAAAIDQ/aJ26cUQgKY8/s220/IMG_2569.JPG" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>1548</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/TwoScoops" /><feedburner:info uri="twoscoops" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUEMQX86fCp7ImA9WhRUF08.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107375858151401170.post-4227058578158375655</id><published>2012-01-27T21:08:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-27T21:08:00.114-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-27T21:08:00.114-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Friends" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Lessons in motherhood" /><title>Tough Call</title><content type="html">There are a lot of parenting decisions that are really easy for me to make. I'm fairly confident in the things I want my kids to learn.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But some are really hard for me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Yesterday was really rough for Tommy. There is a little girl in our neighborhood that Tommy just can't seem to get along with. Any toy she has, he must have immediately. And he screams and takes it from her and then throws an enormous fit. I always go over to him and we talk about sharing, say we're sorry, and dry the tears. She's a sweet girl (having some sharing problems of her own) and I really like her. Her mom is a fantastic person and I lover her too! Her mom always joins in with the "let's not fight over this toy and learn to share" action. But I simply can't understand why Tommy picks on her. There are 5 other people in the room and he's fine with all of them but he picks on HER.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
When he does this with other people I can usually talk him through it, everybody apologizes and goes on their way, but for some reason he doesn't calm down with her. He screams and flails and freaks out. And sniffles and sobs and shouts his way through an apology.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I said something to her mom about how I was sorry he was picking on her in an attempt to let her know that I knew he was being unreasonable but I didn't know what to do about it. Now I keep going over and over what I said and I hope it didn't come out wrong and sound like my kid hates her kid. I'm hoping I didn't stick my foot in my mouth (which I usually do...chances aren't really in my favor here) and I hope she wasn't hurt.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Why does he do this?&lt;br /&gt;
And how do I find out when he simply lacks the vocabulary to explain?&lt;br /&gt;
And what am I supposed to say to him about it?&lt;br /&gt;
And what am I supposed to say to my friend about it?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Go ahead experienced and wise people, advise me.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3107375858151401170-4227058578158375655?l=egbertblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TwoScoops/~4/bSqHwyLb0Xc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4227058578158375655/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/tough-call.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107375858151401170/posts/default/4227058578158375655?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107375858151401170/posts/default/4227058578158375655?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TwoScoops/~3/bSqHwyLb0Xc/tough-call.html" title="Tough Call" /><author><name>Amy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10650216689414959056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aizmcBJ-xN4/TrxmVKot1-I/AAAAAAAAIDQ/aJ26cUQgKY8/s220/IMG_2569.JPG" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/tough-call.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEUGQ309cCp7ImA9WhRUFk4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107375858151401170.post-4716525927234150066</id><published>2012-01-26T20:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-26T20:50:22.368-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-26T20:50:22.368-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Family" /><title>Best Love Note Ever</title><content type="html">I've always been attached to my daddy.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Always.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
My daddy has a gift. The ability to make people feel loved in an incredibly powerful way effortlessly.
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I remember snuggling into his shoulder/armpit while he read me stories until we both fell asleep.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
There are probably 10-15 primary songs that he sang to me a thousand times in a row, and now they're the only songs I can think of when I'm tucking Tommy in. And I can only hear them in his voice.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Every time I go home I get a "Poppi Hug" that makes me feel like I'm still 7 years old and he's fixing everything that's wrong in the world.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He bought me roses one Valentine's Day when I was in high school. He brought them home to me when he brought some for my mom. And in that moment I was certain he loved me every bit as much as he loved her.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He helped me do a million things, has given me a million things, and taught me a million things and I love him for all of them.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But today I love him because he writes the perfect love notes.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I e-mailed him saying that I didn't know what I'd do without him.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He responded beautifully and simply: "&lt;span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"&gt;Nor me without you, so lets not even try it.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;"&gt;lovepopi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.917969); color: #222222;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: inherit;"&gt;And for the 10,000th time, he melted my heart.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3107375858151401170-4716525927234150066?l=egbertblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TwoScoops/~4/PjgUMsWQdiQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4716525927234150066/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/best-love-note-ever.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107375858151401170/posts/default/4716525927234150066?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107375858151401170/posts/default/4716525927234150066?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TwoScoops/~3/PjgUMsWQdiQ/best-love-note-ever.html" title="Best Love Note Ever" /><author><name>Amy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10650216689414959056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aizmcBJ-xN4/TrxmVKot1-I/AAAAAAAAIDQ/aJ26cUQgKY8/s220/IMG_2569.JPG" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/best-love-note-ever.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0EAQXs-eCp7ImA9WhRUFEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107375858151401170.post-1780868520230892474</id><published>2012-01-24T15:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-24T15:54:00.550-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-24T15:54:00.550-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Josh" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Tommy" /><title>Mr. Lonely</title><content type="html">Dad fell asleep in the chair and Tommy thought he looked lonely.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A problem quickly remedied I assure you.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mqWEniNedtY/Tx3lFiDudWI/AAAAAAAAIXM/P7EKaTqlKXA/s1600/IMG_4823.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mqWEniNedtY/Tx3lFiDudWI/AAAAAAAAIXM/P7EKaTqlKXA/s320/IMG_4823.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3107375858151401170-1780868520230892474?l=egbertblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TwoScoops/~4/u9NVQ6ml_Gs" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1780868520230892474/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/mr-lonely.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107375858151401170/posts/default/1780868520230892474?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107375858151401170/posts/default/1780868520230892474?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TwoScoops/~3/u9NVQ6ml_Gs/mr-lonely.html" title="Mr. Lonely" /><author><name>Amy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10650216689414959056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aizmcBJ-xN4/TrxmVKot1-I/AAAAAAAAIDQ/aJ26cUQgKY8/s220/IMG_2569.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mqWEniNedtY/Tx3lFiDudWI/AAAAAAAAIXM/P7EKaTqlKXA/s72-c/IMG_4823.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/mr-lonely.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUcAQXc_fyp7ImA9WhRUFE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107375858151401170.post-8022646529306336027</id><published>2012-01-24T12:24:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-24T12:24:00.947-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-24T12:24:00.947-07:00</app:edited><title>Good Morning John!</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
After a few days in a row of John greeting me with smiles every time I come into the room,&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
Sad John has started going by Guy Smiley.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-s8wpXqSKusI/Tx8ExD6zrhI/AAAAAAAAIXg/j2lZR-AnL0A/s1600/IMG_4953.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-s8wpXqSKusI/Tx8ExD6zrhI/AAAAAAAAIXg/j2lZR-AnL0A/s320/IMG_4953.JPG" width="239" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
And what a lovely change it is.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3107375858151401170-8022646529306336027?l=egbertblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TwoScoops/~4/UBu0Rpo3S9k" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8022646529306336027/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/good-morning-john.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107375858151401170/posts/default/8022646529306336027?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107375858151401170/posts/default/8022646529306336027?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TwoScoops/~3/UBu0Rpo3S9k/good-morning-john.html" title="Good Morning John!" /><author><name>Amy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10650216689414959056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aizmcBJ-xN4/TrxmVKot1-I/AAAAAAAAIDQ/aJ26cUQgKY8/s220/IMG_2569.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-s8wpXqSKusI/Tx8ExD6zrhI/AAAAAAAAIXg/j2lZR-AnL0A/s72-c/IMG_4953.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/good-morning-john.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ak8DSHc8eCp7ImA9WhRUE0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107375858151401170.post-6572319303238830217</id><published>2012-01-23T15:47:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-23T15:47:59.970-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-23T15:47:59.970-07:00</app:edited><title>Walking the Plank</title><content type="html">We were watching a show about pirates, and they had to walk the plank - so I thought it would be fun to practice walking the plank with the boy.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I showed him how once and I guess I&amp;nbsp;over-exaggerated&amp;nbsp;the "whooaaa!" factor. Because this is what he did every time.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;
Then we got out a longer (and therefore better) plank. And Tommy continually reminded himself (and me) that "A pirate says 'arrrggg'" while he walked.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;
Then each toy (balls and animals included) had a turn to walk the plank.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AqAQbW6DAbs/Tx3hnOP3HAI/AAAAAAAAIXE/JOouCUbhWV8/s1600/IMG_4821.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AqAQbW6DAbs/Tx3hnOP3HAI/AAAAAAAAIXE/JOouCUbhWV8/s320/IMG_4821.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Man I love this kid.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3107375858151401170-6572319303238830217?l=egbertblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TwoScoops/~4/C_oleRfLixY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6572319303238830217/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/walking-plank.html#comment-form" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107375858151401170/posts/default/6572319303238830217?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107375858151401170/posts/default/6572319303238830217?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TwoScoops/~3/C_oleRfLixY/walking-plank.html" title="Walking the Plank" /><author><name>Amy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10650216689414959056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aizmcBJ-xN4/TrxmVKot1-I/AAAAAAAAIDQ/aJ26cUQgKY8/s220/IMG_2569.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-AqAQbW6DAbs/Tx3hnOP3HAI/AAAAAAAAIXE/JOouCUbhWV8/s72-c/IMG_4821.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/walking-plank.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0cNRXg6eip7ImA9WhRUE0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107375858151401170.post-1249863544741301331</id><published>2012-01-23T13:38:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-23T13:38:14.612-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-23T13:38:14.612-07:00</app:edited><title>Today's Numbers</title><content type="html">5: episodes of Blue's Clues&lt;div&gt;
3: bowls of cereal&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
12,476: facebook updates about the football game (was it the Superbowl? why am I the only one who doesn't care about football)&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
14: times I've tried to convince Tommy that he wants to go shopping with me this morning&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
15: times he's convinced me that if I force him to go I'll regret it. &lt;i&gt;I always do.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
3: pounds gained since I bought an entire Costco cake for no good reason on Friday.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
26: miles I'll have to run to make up for that. *dreamy sigh* totally worth it&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
78:&amp;nbsp;animals&amp;nbsp;dumped out on the living room floor&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
360: minutes of wakefulness. It's only 11am.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
4: poopy diapers - what are we feeding these children?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
29: tiny car accidents. did you know that a tiny matchbox car can take out a dump truck 20 times it's size? true story.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
6: requests from Tommy for a nap.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
6: "Sure, you can have a nap"'s from mom.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
0: naps&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3107375858151401170-1249863544741301331?l=egbertblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TwoScoops/~4/L1QhkrlGndA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1249863544741301331/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/todays-numbers.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107375858151401170/posts/default/1249863544741301331?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107375858151401170/posts/default/1249863544741301331?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TwoScoops/~3/L1QhkrlGndA/todays-numbers.html" title="Today's Numbers" /><author><name>Amy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10650216689414959056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aizmcBJ-xN4/TrxmVKot1-I/AAAAAAAAIDQ/aJ26cUQgKY8/s220/IMG_2569.JPG" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/todays-numbers.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0YMQnY_fip7ImA9WhRUEk0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107375858151401170.post-183877329954179550</id><published>2012-01-21T21:06:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-21T21:06:23.846-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-21T21:06:23.846-07:00</app:edited><title>Significant Sleep Improvements</title><content type="html">A few weeks ago Tommy stopped sleeping through the night.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Since he started sleeping through the night (way back when we measured his age in weeks and not months or years) he has never stopped. We can put him down for bed at 7(ish) every night and know we won't see or hear from him until morning.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I know I know...spoiled little white girl problems.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Still...&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Over the holidays we were all sleeping in, and got into the habit of letting him come in and snuggle with us in the mornings. He'd wake up at 6:30 and come in and we'd all (even John) snuggle in bed for 15 minutes before starting our day. It was heavenly. I loved it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The first few times he woke up in the middle of the night, he came into our bedroom to find me with the light on watching tv on the laptop and nursing John.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I told him it was the middle of the night, but for &lt;i&gt;some &lt;/i&gt;reason he didn't believe me.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"John awake? Mom awake? Good mornin'!" He responded.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Maybe I'm sleep deprived (and therefore stupid) but I really couldn't refute his logic. It was 2am, not morning. But still, what do I tell him? &lt;i&gt;Yes. John's awake. Mom's awake. The lights are on and we're watching tv. But go to bed. &lt;/i&gt;And my ability to physically put him back in bed was seriously compromised by the fact that there was a small child attached to my chest.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So once he won that debate, he'd crawl into bed with daddy (who had no problem with the situation) and snuggle for 15 minutes then think it was time to get up and have breakfast.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm not sure if you've noticed or not, but the holidays are now over, sleeping in is no longer an option, and I'm seriously sick of being up all night. So I have become the snuggle nazi.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
This week John started sleeping through the night, which simply highlighted how rotten it was for Tommy to stop sleeping through the night. Once John had slept all night long 3 times in a row, we (I) decided we should just put him in the boys' room officially since Tommy was getting up and coming in here every night anyway, it couldn't hurt.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So we did.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And now we're all sleeping through the night. The boys go to sleep by 7:30, Josh goes to sleep at 7:45 (I'm only partially kidding here...) and when I wake up with John at 5 or 6, Tommy and I are up for the day. John goes back down until 8, and Tommy and I get to bond a little before the day officially starts.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Tommy is a whole new kind of cute when he's well rested. He's not a monster who head butts me and makes me cry. He's a sweet sweet boy who climbs into his carseat and asks me to buckle him. He says "lub-ewwww" and "sawwy mom" at least 10,000 times a day. He entertains himself and is soft with Little John. He is kind. and smart. and important.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I simply love it when we all sleep through the night. It's only been 3 nights, but my whole world is better. WAY better.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3107375858151401170-183877329954179550?l=egbertblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TwoScoops/~4/zX7ZOLoh65k" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/feeds/183877329954179550/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/significant-sleep-improvements.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107375858151401170/posts/default/183877329954179550?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107375858151401170/posts/default/183877329954179550?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TwoScoops/~3/zX7ZOLoh65k/significant-sleep-improvements.html" title="Significant Sleep Improvements" /><author><name>Amy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10650216689414959056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aizmcBJ-xN4/TrxmVKot1-I/AAAAAAAAIDQ/aJ26cUQgKY8/s220/IMG_2569.JPG" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/significant-sleep-improvements.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0QGQX44cCp7ImA9WhRUEEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107375858151401170.post-5025316459717825474</id><published>2012-01-20T09:02:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-20T09:02:00.038-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-20T09:02:00.038-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Lessons in motherhood" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Tommy" /><title>Highs and Lows</title><content type="html">Within 24 hours of &lt;a href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/snowman-crafted.html"&gt;this post&lt;/a&gt; which made me feel like wonder-mom, I picked a fight with Tommy about his fingernails.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Sometimes he doesn't mind having his fingernails cut but other times he really &lt;i&gt;really &lt;/i&gt;hates it. But it was Saturday night and it simply had to be done.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
He cried and whined and whimpered.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
But I was strong and determined.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
He wiggled and wriggled.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
But I held him tighter.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
And then he grabbed my hair with both hands and head butted me. &lt;i&gt;I swear I saw that in ultimate fighting once...&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I pushed him off my lap, onto the floor and left the room crying.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Not even one fingernail cut.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I went into the boys' room where John was boycotting his wardrobe change for the evening. I told Josh I'd gladly trade him the noisy infant for the indescribably beast in the living room.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I think this might have been the first time I was genuinely mad at my child. Mad mad. Spitting fighting CRYING mad.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
I kissed him goodnight anyway - but I didn't like it.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Of course the next day he was sweet and kind and smart and important. He was handsome and funny and loving. He woke me up with a kiss and he never whined at me. He gave me hugs and cuddled his daddy after their naps. He showed us a "Jesus picture!" and sat quietly by himself during the RS musical number in Sacrament Meeting.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
He was a perfect angel and I love love &lt;i&gt;LOVED&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;him.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div&gt;
Of course I always love him, but man I love it when I like him too.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3107375858151401170-5025316459717825474?l=egbertblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TwoScoops/~4/E4HL9our0bM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5025316459717825474/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/highs-and-lows.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107375858151401170/posts/default/5025316459717825474?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107375858151401170/posts/default/5025316459717825474?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TwoScoops/~3/E4HL9our0bM/highs-and-lows.html" title="Highs and Lows" /><author><name>Amy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10650216689414959056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aizmcBJ-xN4/TrxmVKot1-I/AAAAAAAAIDQ/aJ26cUQgKY8/s220/IMG_2569.JPG" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/highs-and-lows.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkYGQn48fSp7ImA9WhRVGUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107375858151401170.post-552988462109558095</id><published>2012-01-19T10:28:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-19T10:28:43.075-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-19T10:28:43.075-07:00</app:edited><title>Meh</title><content type="html">Mom: "Aren't you so glad to be awake today?" (in the most obnoxious mommy-talking-to-baby voice you can imagine)&lt;br /&gt;
John:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Hd0Ll6q4JKw/TxhSjq6KZWI/AAAAAAAAIWw/7A9wWbccXD0/s1600/IMG_4806.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Hd0Ll6q4JKw/TxhSjq6KZWI/AAAAAAAAIWw/7A9wWbccXD0/s320/IMG_4806.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;I'm not even kidding.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3107375858151401170-552988462109558095?l=egbertblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TwoScoops/~4/Mp4MCLAPDWc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/feeds/552988462109558095/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/meh.html#comment-form" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107375858151401170/posts/default/552988462109558095?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107375858151401170/posts/default/552988462109558095?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TwoScoops/~3/Mp4MCLAPDWc/meh.html" title="Meh" /><author><name>Amy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10650216689414959056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aizmcBJ-xN4/TrxmVKot1-I/AAAAAAAAIDQ/aJ26cUQgKY8/s220/IMG_2569.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Hd0Ll6q4JKw/TxhSjq6KZWI/AAAAAAAAIWw/7A9wWbccXD0/s72-c/IMG_4806.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>4</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/meh.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkQASXk9eip7ImA9WhRVGUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107375858151401170.post-2852017741424858891</id><published>2012-01-19T09:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-19T10:32:28.762-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-19T10:32:28.762-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Resolutions" /><title>Can't Get Up</title><content type="html">I thought I'd take the plunge and do the hardcore "yoga burn" section of the video I've been doing. I won't lie, it looked hard in the little preview, and considering that the "flexibility and relaxation" section is hard for me I figured yoga burn would do me in.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So I was pleasantly surprised when I was pretty easily keeping up with her.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Until the last move.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Deep knee bend until you sit yourself down on the floor, roll back then using your abs lift your legs up into the air (I'm good until this point). Then roll forward and stand up. (Without using your hands.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I suppose I blame the pregnancy for the fact that I can't stand up like a normal person.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
After months of getting out of seats belly first, I have totally forgotten how to stand up.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And now it simply isn't possible.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
But on my first try I didn't know I couldn't do it, so I tried.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I thought the momentum from the rolling would simply lift me into a standing position &lt;i&gt;(like it did for the lady in the movie!)&lt;/i&gt;, but it only lifted me like 2 inches off the floor and I came right back down on my booty, legs in the air.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bQlpDiXPZHQ"&gt;I had fallen and I couldn't get up&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm gonna be the most awesome old person EVER.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3107375858151401170-2852017741424858891?l=egbertblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TwoScoops/~4/s8FOG1v0H6A" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/feeds/2852017741424858891/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/cant-get-up.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107375858151401170/posts/default/2852017741424858891?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107375858151401170/posts/default/2852017741424858891?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TwoScoops/~3/s8FOG1v0H6A/cant-get-up.html" title="Can't Get Up" /><author><name>Amy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10650216689414959056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aizmcBJ-xN4/TrxmVKot1-I/AAAAAAAAIDQ/aJ26cUQgKY8/s220/IMG_2569.JPG" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/cant-get-up.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUQER3g9fSp7ImA9WhRVGU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107375858151401170.post-1994924264696979573</id><published>2012-01-18T14:48:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-18T14:48:26.665-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-18T14:48:26.665-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Tommy" /><title>Word</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
I &lt;i&gt;got &lt;/i&gt;dis.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WioZJ8V-Fp4/Txc9zYPJPvI/AAAAAAAAIWo/5JfbnAXSRQs/s1600/IMG_4652.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WioZJ8V-Fp4/Txc9zYPJPvI/AAAAAAAAIWo/5JfbnAXSRQs/s320/IMG_4652.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
Man I love that kid.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
Even if he does need a haircut.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3107375858151401170-1994924264696979573?l=egbertblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TwoScoops/~4/gmZ20a0JI1M" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1994924264696979573/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/word.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107375858151401170/posts/default/1994924264696979573?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107375858151401170/posts/default/1994924264696979573?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TwoScoops/~3/gmZ20a0JI1M/word.html" title="Word" /><author><name>Amy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10650216689414959056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aizmcBJ-xN4/TrxmVKot1-I/AAAAAAAAIDQ/aJ26cUQgKY8/s220/IMG_2569.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-WioZJ8V-Fp4/Txc9zYPJPvI/AAAAAAAAIWo/5JfbnAXSRQs/s72-c/IMG_4652.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/word.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0YGQH44eip7ImA9WhRVGEo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107375858151401170.post-1928061420215991128</id><published>2012-01-18T02:32:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-18T02:32:01.032-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-18T02:32:01.032-07:00</app:edited><title>Sad Commentary</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
Sometimes I can judge my life based on the status of my dishwasher.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
Totally empty usually means the sink is full and I haven't done dishes in a very long time. (Or that Josh is in trouble and I'm saving them all for him.)&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
Totally full means I'm on top of it. Wonder-mom. Super-wife. Totally Awesome Human Being. (I've only seen this like once...)&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
Running means John is crying and I'd rather not hear him.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
But this? This is a whole new world.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aA561DQtdWw/TxCTtEcKk4I/AAAAAAAAIVM/jKV6zMkabCI/s1600/IMG_4522.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aA561DQtdWw/TxCTtEcKk4I/AAAAAAAAIVM/jKV6zMkabCI/s320/IMG_4522.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5EdtL2eNqVk/TxCTuuKvrMI/AAAAAAAAIVU/jkRpWNf9pq0/s1600/IMG_4523.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5EdtL2eNqVk/TxCTuuKvrMI/AAAAAAAAIVU/jkRpWNf9pq0/s320/IMG_4523.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Bottom tray:&lt;/b&gt; (home of cooking dishes, plates and all "real food" evidence) Empty.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;b&gt;Top tray:&lt;/b&gt; (home of cereal bowls and sippy cups) Full.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
I don't really need to explain, do I?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3107375858151401170-1928061420215991128?l=egbertblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TwoScoops/~4/G-WRRuA6Os0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/feeds/1928061420215991128/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/sad-commentary.html#comment-form" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107375858151401170/posts/default/1928061420215991128?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107375858151401170/posts/default/1928061420215991128?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TwoScoops/~3/G-WRRuA6Os0/sad-commentary.html" title="Sad Commentary" /><author><name>Amy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10650216689414959056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aizmcBJ-xN4/TrxmVKot1-I/AAAAAAAAIDQ/aJ26cUQgKY8/s220/IMG_2569.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aA561DQtdWw/TxCTtEcKk4I/AAAAAAAAIVM/jKV6zMkabCI/s72-c/IMG_4522.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/sad-commentary.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUEHQ3s8cSp7ImA9WhRVGE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107375858151401170.post-7592988344965169348</id><published>2012-01-17T01:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-17T13:53:52.579-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-17T13:53:52.579-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Little John" /><title>How YOU doin'?</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center;"&gt;
Hey there.....&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sUcYanxi7pg/TxXf2zfa7II/AAAAAAAAIWg/Firm3QSOwHs/s1600/IMG_4548.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sUcYanxi7pg/TxXf2zfa7II/AAAAAAAAIWg/Firm3QSOwHs/s320/IMG_4548.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
How you doin'?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3107375858151401170-7592988344965169348?l=egbertblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TwoScoops/~4/UD74XFfgE6A" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/feeds/7592988344965169348/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/how-you-doin.html#comment-form" title="3 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107375858151401170/posts/default/7592988344965169348?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107375858151401170/posts/default/7592988344965169348?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TwoScoops/~3/UD74XFfgE6A/how-you-doin.html" title="How YOU doin'?" /><author><name>Amy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10650216689414959056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aizmcBJ-xN4/TrxmVKot1-I/AAAAAAAAIDQ/aJ26cUQgKY8/s220/IMG_2569.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-sUcYanxi7pg/TxXf2zfa7II/AAAAAAAAIWg/Firm3QSOwHs/s72-c/IMG_4548.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>3</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/how-you-doin.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0QEQX4yeip7ImA9WhRVF0o.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107375858151401170.post-5335158876762186912</id><published>2012-01-16T20:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-16T20:35:00.092-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-16T20:35:00.092-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Resolutions" /><title>Meditation: Part 2(ish)</title><content type="html">Last week I tried meditating again.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I thought that if I got a little more comfortable, and had finished all the house stuff and the boys were down before I started I'd be wildly successful.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The problem came when I had cleaned the entire house, caught up on my work, put all 3 of my boys in bed and sat alone in a dark room with my eyes closed.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I looked at the clock at 11:43pm. And when I woke up it was 2:45am. I'd love to count this as a 3 hour session and say I rock at meditation....but the truth is I'm certain I was entirely unconscious by 11:44pm.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So this week I figured I needed help.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So I googled &lt;i&gt;guided meditation&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;and picked the first youtube video more than 12 minutes long.&amp;nbsp;Since Josh thinks &lt;a href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/new-years-resolutions.html"&gt;I need to calm down&lt;/a&gt;, I picked the anti-anxiety version.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I ignored the dishes in the sink and the dirty laundry on the floor. I pretended my work was done and my house was organized and I turned on the video.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Things were going fine until the voice told me we had walked up a grassy hill and that I should (mentally) look for a place to lie down.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
As I looked around the beautifully grassy knoll for an appropriate place to lie down, my heart rate picked up, I looked and looked and looked and all of the spots had dirt-patches in them. The grass wasn't even, and there were&amp;nbsp;dandelions&amp;nbsp;and gopher bumps in the ground. In my head I was dressed in something pretty and I wasn't about to lay in the dirt.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Suddenly the voice was telling me I was doing a great job and that now that we were on the beach I should hear the waves crashing and the feel the light breeze on my face.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'm not sure what else happened (or was supposed to happen) on that hill, but I kept my eyes closed through the entire session - that counts, right?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3107375858151401170-5335158876762186912?l=egbertblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TwoScoops/~4/bCNhkjgqiuU" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5335158876762186912/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/meditation-part-2ish.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107375858151401170/posts/default/5335158876762186912?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107375858151401170/posts/default/5335158876762186912?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TwoScoops/~3/bCNhkjgqiuU/meditation-part-2ish.html" title="Meditation: Part 2(ish)" /><author><name>Amy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10650216689414959056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aizmcBJ-xN4/TrxmVKot1-I/AAAAAAAAIDQ/aJ26cUQgKY8/s220/IMG_2569.JPG" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/meditation-part-2ish.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkIFQXc8eCp7ImA9WhRVF0o.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107375858151401170.post-429761132027329267</id><published>2012-01-16T20:14:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-16T20:21:50.970-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-16T20:21:50.970-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Resolutions" /><title>Resolutions for other people</title><content type="html">I'm still thinking about making &lt;a href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/new-years-resolutions.html"&gt;New Year's Resolutions for other people&lt;/a&gt;. This might be my new favorite tradition, because I think I'm pretty dang good at it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Here are my New Year's Resolutions for people I have no control over:&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Macey's (the grocery store, not the clothing store): You should resolve to build a store on the empty lot by my house. OK?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Owner of the empty lot by my house: You should resolve to sell that lot for less than the price of a small country so someone, ANYone can by it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Josh: Put your socks in the hamper so I can stop cussing so much. We're all gonna be embarrassed when Tommy repeats the things he's heard.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Ben &amp;amp; Jerry's: How about a $.99 pint eh?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Tommy: Let's re-learn how to sleep through the night shall we? Waking up between midnight and 3am every night is not cool. John can show you how it's done if you need a lesson....&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Hawiian Airlines: Keep that $175 airfare year round for the next 10 years so I can afford to take advantage of this insanely awesome deal sometime.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Running: Wouldn't it be cool if you didn't suck so much? I think you oughtta work on that.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Weather: Listen. At some point you're gonna have to snow. Let's do it now and not in April when everyone will hate you for it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Little John: Just try to survive. With your brother around it might not be easy....&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Who do you wanna make resolutions for?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3107375858151401170-429761132027329267?l=egbertblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TwoScoops/~4/y7sZXuVCZ9Y" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/feeds/429761132027329267/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/resolutions-for-other-people.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107375858151401170/posts/default/429761132027329267?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107375858151401170/posts/default/429761132027329267?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TwoScoops/~3/y7sZXuVCZ9Y/resolutions-for-other-people.html" title="Resolutions for other people" /><author><name>Amy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10650216689414959056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aizmcBJ-xN4/TrxmVKot1-I/AAAAAAAAIDQ/aJ26cUQgKY8/s220/IMG_2569.JPG" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/resolutions-for-other-people.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEUNRXo4fip7ImA9WhRVFkQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107375858151401170.post-5039787709037850116</id><published>2012-01-15T20:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-15T22:38:14.436-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-15T22:38:14.436-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Tommy" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Little John" /><title>Sunday In Photos</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
I came home from my afternoon meetings to this beautiful sight.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xRnAW3ZvUVk/TxOd2NQUL_I/AAAAAAAAIV4/IRTUdrIJ7R8/s1600/IMG_4668.JPG" imageanchor="1"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xRnAW3ZvUVk/TxOd2NQUL_I/AAAAAAAAIV4/IRTUdrIJ7R8/s320/IMG_4668.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
And when all the boys finally came out of their comas we made this beautiful sight.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fzzkhYvDuOo/TxOd3BYhb-I/AAAAAAAAIWA/xksezkNMZys/s1600/IMG_4675.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-fzzkhYvDuOo/TxOd3BYhb-I/AAAAAAAAIWA/xksezkNMZys/s320/IMG_4675.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
When Daddy gave Tommy a choice of which bathroom to take his evening bath in &lt;br /&gt;
&lt;i&gt;"dis one? oooooooor dis one?"&lt;/i&gt; &lt;br /&gt;
it resulted in a 10 minute streaking session that simply had me in a fit of giggles.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
Have you ever seen a cuter bum?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&amp;lt;&amp;lt;picture removed for the protection of the innocent at their protector's request&amp;gt;&amp;gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
And wrapping up my tiniest baby in all that love and laying him down for what could potentially be his 3rd straight night of sleeping clear through it.....was simply the perfect end to this day.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-G_0ExQS1Bx0/TxOd4-Z0NRI/AAAAAAAAIWQ/qkVlFm_x388/s1600/IMG_4683.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-G_0ExQS1Bx0/TxOd4-Z0NRI/AAAAAAAAIWQ/qkVlFm_x388/s320/IMG_4683.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
Today I really love my boys.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3107375858151401170-5039787709037850116?l=egbertblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TwoScoops/~4/jRniyx9228Y" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5039787709037850116/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/sunday-in-photos.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107375858151401170/posts/default/5039787709037850116?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107375858151401170/posts/default/5039787709037850116?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TwoScoops/~3/jRniyx9228Y/sunday-in-photos.html" title="Sunday In Photos" /><author><name>Amy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10650216689414959056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aizmcBJ-xN4/TrxmVKot1-I/AAAAAAAAIDQ/aJ26cUQgKY8/s220/IMG_2569.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xRnAW3ZvUVk/TxOd2NQUL_I/AAAAAAAAIV4/IRTUdrIJ7R8/s72-c/IMG_4668.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/sunday-in-photos.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUIMQHY6fCp7ImA9WhRVFkU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107375858151401170.post-719256057779924780</id><published>2012-01-15T20:13:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-15T20:13:01.814-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-15T20:13:01.814-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Resolutions" /><title>New Years Resolutions</title><content type="html">Josh and I were watching an episode of &lt;a href="http://www.hulu.com/watch/313598/the-middle-year-of-the-hecks"&gt;The Middle&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;(go watch it, just the beginning part before the credits) where the family decides that since they never keep their own resolutions they ought to set resolutions for each other instead.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So I asked Josh if he could set a resolution for me, what would it be. (A dangerous question - I don't recommend asking it.) After I threw out his first stupid, ridiculous, and inappropriate for a family blog suggestion he said "Calm down. Just calm. down."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I like to think that could be my motto for the year, but I'm busy cleaning out my cupboards, organizing my closets, and freaking out about the crusty spit-up stains in my carpet.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Maybe next year.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3107375858151401170-719256057779924780?l=egbertblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TwoScoops/~4/AKmBQHHzUVw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/feeds/719256057779924780/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/new-years-resolutions.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107375858151401170/posts/default/719256057779924780?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107375858151401170/posts/default/719256057779924780?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TwoScoops/~3/AKmBQHHzUVw/new-years-resolutions.html" title="New Years Resolutions" /><author><name>Amy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10650216689414959056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aizmcBJ-xN4/TrxmVKot1-I/AAAAAAAAIDQ/aJ26cUQgKY8/s220/IMG_2569.JPG" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/new-years-resolutions.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUMAQX87fip7ImA9WhRVFk4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107375858151401170.post-4936064765239293356</id><published>2012-01-15T07:24:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-15T07:24:00.106-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-15T07:24:00.106-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Tommy" /><title>The Future</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
I'm just wondering, will iPod headphones still be cool when he's a teenager in 12 years?&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-O8V3JocpRlw/TxCS2voWVXI/AAAAAAAAIVE/PcyksJJnp2U/s1600/IMG_4521.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-O8V3JocpRlw/TxCS2voWVXI/AAAAAAAAIVE/PcyksJJnp2U/s320/IMG_4521.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3107375858151401170-4936064765239293356?l=egbertblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TwoScoops/~4/odHs0_1mEvA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4936064765239293356/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/future.html#comment-form" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107375858151401170/posts/default/4936064765239293356?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107375858151401170/posts/default/4936064765239293356?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TwoScoops/~3/odHs0_1mEvA/future.html" title="The Future" /><author><name>Amy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10650216689414959056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aizmcBJ-xN4/TrxmVKot1-I/AAAAAAAAIDQ/aJ26cUQgKY8/s220/IMG_2569.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-O8V3JocpRlw/TxCS2voWVXI/AAAAAAAAIVE/PcyksJJnp2U/s72-c/IMG_4521.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/future.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkIMQXc_fyp7ImA9WhRVFUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107375858151401170.post-8763167962806499067</id><published>2012-01-14T08:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-14T08:23:00.947-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-14T08:23:00.947-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Lessons in motherhood" /><title>Here's a Twist</title><content type="html">Sleep deprived mommy of two complains about exhaustion.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
That's the boring part.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Here's the twist.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The boy keeping her up at night is not the newborn. It's the dirty rotten (and slightly adorable) 2 year old who has decided that staying asleep and in bed all night is for lame-sauce sissy-pants.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He gets up at 5 am.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And at midnight.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And at 3.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So, sleep-deprived mommy had a sleep over with Tommy in his crappy 2 year old bed last night.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Meanwhile Dad took over "baby duty" and slept &lt;i&gt;THROUGH THE NIGHT&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;(for the second time in a row) in our room.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Where's the justice?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Oh yeah, right here.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pKSwgeP6vzM/TxCSVMvQhzI/AAAAAAAAIU0/WnQgJmxh7CI/s1600/IMG_4642.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pKSwgeP6vzM/TxCSVMvQhzI/AAAAAAAAIU0/WnQgJmxh7CI/s320/IMG_4642.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-slSVu-Cu36Y/TxCSh_NVm6I/AAAAAAAAIU8/hEdB2RMpLs8/s1600/IMG_4578.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-slSVu-Cu36Y/TxCSh_NVm6I/AAAAAAAAIU8/hEdB2RMpLs8/s320/IMG_4578.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3107375858151401170-8763167962806499067?l=egbertblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TwoScoops/~4/lR8lZZ7_70U" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8763167962806499067/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/heres-twist.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107375858151401170/posts/default/8763167962806499067?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107375858151401170/posts/default/8763167962806499067?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TwoScoops/~3/lR8lZZ7_70U/heres-twist.html" title="Here's a Twist" /><author><name>Amy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10650216689414959056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aizmcBJ-xN4/TrxmVKot1-I/AAAAAAAAIDQ/aJ26cUQgKY8/s220/IMG_2569.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pKSwgeP6vzM/TxCSVMvQhzI/AAAAAAAAIU0/WnQgJmxh7CI/s72-c/IMG_4642.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/heres-twist.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUQHSHk5eyp7ImA9WhRVFEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107375858151401170.post-4889306879570659664</id><published>2012-01-13T13:42:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-13T13:42:19.723-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-13T13:42:19.723-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Tommy" /><title>Snowman: Crafted</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
When Tommy wakes up early we watch a lot of tv. Because I'm too tired to think of anything else.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
And by 11am he's grouchy and I feel guilty and we're ready for something cool.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
So I bust out the construction paper and glue and magic happens.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
"What do you wanna make Tommy?"&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
"Tall tall TALL!!!" &lt;i&gt;aka snowman&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
I grabbed a fist full of cotton balls ignoring the desire to douse them in nail polish remover and give myself a much needed pedicure.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rBTGBJ9RMao/TxCVz5mYxEI/AAAAAAAAIVc/-9tjmc85Bxk/s1600/IMG_4606.JPG" imageanchor="1"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rBTGBJ9RMao/TxCVz5mYxEI/AAAAAAAAIVc/-9tjmc85Bxk/s320/IMG_4606.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zdMsPvxq2RQ/TxCV1FdDXhI/AAAAAAAAIVk/_xH-mU1R31M/s1600/IMG_4607.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zdMsPvxq2RQ/TxCV1FdDXhI/AAAAAAAAIVk/_xH-mU1R31M/s320/IMG_4607.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
I'm calling the cluster of googly eyes &lt;i&gt;down there&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;a belt. Just go with me on that OK?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yDh5KtjTQ5M/TxCV2cK5VAI/AAAAAAAAIVs/bdiARpHIEJs/s1600/IMG_4615.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-yDh5KtjTQ5M/TxCV2cK5VAI/AAAAAAAAIVs/bdiARpHIEJs/s320/IMG_4615.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
It's amazing what construction paper and glue will do for my self-esteem. &lt;br /&gt;I suddenly feel like a VERY VERY good mother.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3107375858151401170-4889306879570659664?l=egbertblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TwoScoops/~4/A9xbnEnTBeg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/feeds/4889306879570659664/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/snowman-crafted.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107375858151401170/posts/default/4889306879570659664?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107375858151401170/posts/default/4889306879570659664?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TwoScoops/~3/A9xbnEnTBeg/snowman-crafted.html" title="Snowman: Crafted" /><author><name>Amy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10650216689414959056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aizmcBJ-xN4/TrxmVKot1-I/AAAAAAAAIDQ/aJ26cUQgKY8/s220/IMG_2569.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-rBTGBJ9RMao/TxCVz5mYxEI/AAAAAAAAIVc/-9tjmc85Bxk/s72-c/IMG_4606.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/snowman-crafted.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0MMQHo6cSp7ImA9WhRVFEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107375858151401170.post-804724861414708140</id><published>2012-01-13T13:11:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-13T13:11:21.419-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-13T13:11:21.419-07:00</app:edited><title>A Station Wagon Memory</title><content type="html">&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Flashback&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Scene: American Fork, Utah. One Amy Egbert (16 year old girl and inexperienced driver) is driving the family vehicle home from her new(ish) job showing her independence and maturity.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I guess there's supposed to be dialogue after you set the scene, but seeing as how I was alone in the car there really wasn't any. I'll just tell you the story instead.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I was driving home from work one day, in the family station wagon (born the same year as me, sporting some awesome wood paneling and crusty seat-belts) thinking I knew everything about driving on the snow.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I figured I lived in Utah so I was probably naturally good at driving in the snow. Besides, the station wagon had to weigh at least 3 tons, and somehow in my 16-year-old girl brain, that made it better in the snow. That much weight must simply crush through the snow and make immediate contact with the road effectively negating the ice and snow.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
These were my thoughts until I hit the first stop sign.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I braked exactly as I should have, and it worked. At least for some of us (in the driver's seat) and the front of the car stopped. But the back end of the car didn't get the memo and slid around the rest of us.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I suddenly realized that:&lt;br /&gt;
a) I know nothing about driving in the snow.&lt;br /&gt;
b) I seriously needed some physics classes.&lt;br /&gt;
c) I needed to buy a cell phone so I could call my daddy and have him tell me what to do when my car was turned the wrong way. (The simple answer, "turn around", is significantly less simple when you're driving Noah's Ark and you're a stupid-16-year-old-girl.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;b&gt;&lt;u&gt;Flash Forward:&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
Yesterday the sun was shining and the boys were weeping. So I did what any &lt;strike&gt;good&lt;/strike&gt;&amp;nbsp;stir-crazy mother would do. I bundled up my boys and got out the stroller.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
The plan was foolproof. "Walk it out kids. We're gonna walk it out." &lt;i&gt;And maybe we'd rub some dirt on it.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And then, in a move that hasn't been seen since the Titanic hit the Iceberg, the front of &amp;nbsp;the stroller hit the hunka unshoveled ice-snow about 10 minutes before the back of the stroller would have. &lt;i&gt;(Are you getting that a double stroller is long? Ridiculously,&amp;nbsp;unimaginably&amp;nbsp;long? It is....)&lt;/i&gt;&amp;nbsp;and the front slid around the back and we were suddenly stuck. Very. Very. Stuck. In a double stroller.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I now have 10 years experience driving in the snow and all I've learned is that you shouldn't do it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I've spent one day walking the equivalent of a station wagon stroller in the snow, and I've already learned that you shouldn't do it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
On the other hand - the view of the station wagon stroller is significantly more awesome than that in the station wagon.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mI05MZKTFJk/TxCPAwx8YZI/AAAAAAAAIUs/dWOMQ2yFAJo/s1600/IMG_4525.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mI05MZKTFJk/TxCPAwx8YZI/AAAAAAAAIUs/dWOMQ2yFAJo/s320/IMG_4525.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3107375858151401170-804724861414708140?l=egbertblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TwoScoops/~4/F1_64s6pEek" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/feeds/804724861414708140/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/station-wagon-memory.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107375858151401170/posts/default/804724861414708140?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107375858151401170/posts/default/804724861414708140?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TwoScoops/~3/F1_64s6pEek/station-wagon-memory.html" title="A Station Wagon Memory" /><author><name>Amy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10650216689414959056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aizmcBJ-xN4/TrxmVKot1-I/AAAAAAAAIDQ/aJ26cUQgKY8/s220/IMG_2569.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-mI05MZKTFJk/TxCPAwx8YZI/AAAAAAAAIUs/dWOMQ2yFAJo/s72-c/IMG_4525.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/station-wagon-memory.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ck8NRXczfSp7ImA9WhRVEkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107375858151401170.post-5979007737298653862</id><published>2012-01-10T20:01:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-10T20:01:34.985-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-10T20:01:34.985-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Lessons in motherhood" /><title>A Thousand Times A Day</title><content type="html">When we took the doorknob blocker off Tommy's bedroom door I discovered that I could boss him around.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
He starts to come out of his room when he should be napping and I tell him to go back in there and go to sleep and he does.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I tell him to stop dangling that heavy object above his brother's head and he does. (Eventually.)&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I tell him to eat his peas and...well sometimes he does. Other times he throws them on the floor.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Anyway, I tell Tommy what to do pretty much all day long.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Now we're going to get dressed."&lt;br /&gt;
"Eat your lunch."&lt;br /&gt;
"Time for a nap."&lt;br /&gt;
"Put the car at the TOP of the ramp and drive it down."&lt;br /&gt;
"Color like this."&lt;br /&gt;
"Blue blocks go on yellow ones."&lt;br /&gt;
"Eat."&lt;br /&gt;
"Don't eat."&lt;br /&gt;
"Sleep."&lt;br /&gt;
"Don't sleep."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
And every now and then I throw in a really stupid one - just for good measure.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
"Don't eat any more chocolate candies or you won't have room for cookies."&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Really, I said that. And THEN realized that it's stupid.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
So now I'm wondering - how many things am I making him do that really make no sense. And naturally I'm wondering about the dumb things you make YOUR kids do, just because you accidentally said it out loud and then had to follow through.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Please share. Ready? Go!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3107375858151401170-5979007737298653862?l=egbertblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TwoScoops/~4/ibL39cow_Gc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5979007737298653862/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/thousand-times-day.html#comment-form" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107375858151401170/posts/default/5979007737298653862?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107375858151401170/posts/default/5979007737298653862?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TwoScoops/~3/ibL39cow_Gc/thousand-times-day.html" title="A Thousand Times A Day" /><author><name>Amy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10650216689414959056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aizmcBJ-xN4/TrxmVKot1-I/AAAAAAAAIDQ/aJ26cUQgKY8/s220/IMG_2569.JPG" /></author><thr:total>4</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/thousand-times-day.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEAGRHsyeyp7ImA9WhRVEk8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107375858151401170.post-5757949153760129218</id><published>2012-01-10T12:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-10T12:12:05.593-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-10T12:12:05.593-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Tommy" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Little John" /><title>A Crib</title><content type="html">I left Tommy in Josh's care for no more than 5 minutes and this is what he had to show for it.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Things you should try not to notice:&lt;br /&gt;
The dust flying everywhere. Nobody has touched that crib since Tommy got a bed.&lt;br /&gt;
Tommy's unbuttoned shirt - he stuffed some cars and balls and dinosaurs down his shirt and couldn't get them out, so I unbuttoned him and left him unbuttoned for the rest of the day.&lt;br /&gt;
Tommy trying to blow the dust out of the air. Seriously, the crib was dusty.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;object width="320" height="266" class="BLOG_video_class" id="BLOG_video-a9aaa883f19095df" classid="clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/get_player"&gt;
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&lt;br /&gt;
Since Daddy and Tommy spent their time dusting off the crib for me, I figured I ought to put it to good use today.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
That's why John is sleeping in his crib right now.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
A month ago I don't think I was confident that John would ever sleep. Period. Much less in his own crib in what can now only be referred to as "the boys' room".&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
In other (and much more exciting) sleep-news.... John slept ALL through the night two nights ago. Last night he woke up at about 3, but I suspect that had more to do with the state of his diaper than the state of his stomach. But now that I've blogged about it I fully expect him to wake up at least every hour tonight. &lt;i&gt;I hate it when I curse myself.&lt;/i&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3107375858151401170-5757949153760129218?l=egbertblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TwoScoops/~4/wMiPzNHNAwo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/feeds/5757949153760129218/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/crib.html#comment-form" title="7 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107375858151401170/posts/default/5757949153760129218?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107375858151401170/posts/default/5757949153760129218?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TwoScoops/~3/wMiPzNHNAwo/crib.html" title="A Crib" /><author><name>Amy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10650216689414959056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aizmcBJ-xN4/TrxmVKot1-I/AAAAAAAAIDQ/aJ26cUQgKY8/s220/IMG_2569.JPG" /></author><thr:total>7</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/crib.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkcMQXoycCp7ImA9WhRVEU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107375858151401170.post-8026166564636615146</id><published>2012-01-09T10:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-09T10:28:00.498-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-09T10:28:00.498-07:00</app:edited><title>I Just Need Diapers!</title><content type="html">Every December I wish there was a line at the store for people who are just trying to live their normal lives. They are not shopping for parties or presents or anything red or green. They just need milk and diapers.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
Somehow I think living normal life - needing milk and diapers - earns me a right to not wait in line with (or drive through a parking lot with) all the people buying chocolate oranges, cookie cutters, and stocking stuffers.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I'd gladly wait in the Holiday Shopping line when I was holiday shopping.....just not when I'm buying diapers.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
That's fair, right?&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
It's this same logic that makes me believe that if I worked out in August I shouldn't have to share the treadmill in January.&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
I hate the gym in January.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3107375858151401170-8026166564636615146?l=egbertblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TwoScoops/~4/124O-vQWZ38" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/feeds/8026166564636615146/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/i-just-need-diapers.html#comment-form" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107375858151401170/posts/default/8026166564636615146?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107375858151401170/posts/default/8026166564636615146?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TwoScoops/~3/124O-vQWZ38/i-just-need-diapers.html" title="I Just Need Diapers!" /><author><name>Amy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10650216689414959056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aizmcBJ-xN4/TrxmVKot1-I/AAAAAAAAIDQ/aJ26cUQgKY8/s220/IMG_2569.JPG" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/i-just-need-diapers.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0YAQXw-eSp7ImA9WhRVEE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3107375858151401170.post-6867172302904888863</id><published>2012-01-08T06:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-01-08T06:59:00.251-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2012-01-08T06:59:00.251-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Tommy" /><title>Tommy Helps</title><content type="html">&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
Everybody told me that when John was born Tommy would become enormous.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
And he did.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
Like the first time I changed his diaper post-John I said outloud &lt;br /&gt;"holy cow, you have the biggest bum I've &lt;i&gt;EVER&lt;/i&gt; seen!" &lt;br /&gt;And he said &lt;br /&gt;"bum! bum! bummmmmmm!!!!!" &lt;br /&gt;and collapsed into a fit of giggles.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
But over the last 2 months he's grown up even more.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
He puts his own clothes in the laundry hamper and runs around the house being "nakie Tommy!" before baths. &lt;i&gt;(You should come over around 7 for the show, it's a-freakin-dorable.)&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
He regularly follows me in to change John's diaper and waits for me to ask him for a favor, to which he emphatically replies "poop bucket!"*&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
But, by far, my favorite way that he helps is by unloading the dishwasher.&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"&gt;He's been blindly chucking the silverware into the drawer for me to sort for weeks now, but today it finally occurred to me that given the opportunity he would likely sort it.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"&gt;I was right. Beautifully correct.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;
&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-x_7OKEUfzIw/Twkga-581lI/AAAAAAAAIT0/_JYoXNg1Y5Q/s1600/IMG_4448.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-x_7OKEUfzIw/Twkga-581lI/AAAAAAAAIT0/_JYoXNg1Y5Q/s320/IMG_4448.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;
I love it when I'm right!&lt;/div&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;br /&gt;
&lt;span style="font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span style="text-align: center;"&gt;*"Poop bucket" is his cue to dispose of the dirty diaper in our diaper pail, which we affectionately call the&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;i style="text-align: center;"&gt;poop bucket&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style="text-align: center;"&gt;.&lt;i&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/i&gt;My mom just cringed. I know it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3107375858151401170-6867172302904888863?l=egbertblog.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TwoScoops/~4/UjIwmPL_H8s" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/feeds/6867172302904888863/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/tommy-helps.html#comment-form" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107375858151401170/posts/default/6867172302904888863?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3107375858151401170/posts/default/6867172302904888863?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/TwoScoops/~3/UjIwmPL_H8s/tommy-helps.html" title="Tommy Helps" /><author><name>Amy</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/10650216689414959056</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-aizmcBJ-xN4/TrxmVKot1-I/AAAAAAAAIDQ/aJ26cUQgKY8/s220/IMG_2569.JPG" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-x_7OKEUfzIw/Twkga-581lI/AAAAAAAAIT0/_JYoXNg1Y5Q/s72-c/IMG_4448.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://egbertblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/tommy-helps.html</feedburner:origLink></entry></feed>

