<?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:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;DUIMSHs-eSp7ImA9WxNaFU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1455244974087269178</id><updated>2009-11-29T17:33:09.551-06:00</updated><title>It's Almost Naptime!!</title><subtitle type="html" /><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1455244974087269178/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Missy @ It's Almost Naptime</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11264845015930907294</uri><email>itsalmostnaptime@gmail.com</email></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>574</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><link rel="self" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/blogspot/ElTI" type="application/atom+xml" /><feedburner:emailServiceId>blogspot/ElTI</feedburner:emailServiceId><feedburner:feedburnerHostname>http://feedburner.google.com</feedburner:feedburnerHostname><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUcDQ3s8fCp7ImA9WxNaEU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1455244974087269178.post-3327253483329880443</id><published>2009-11-24T16:50:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-24T16:51:12.574-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-24T16:51:12.574-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Maggie" /><title>The joy that is Maggie</title><content type="html">&lt;object width="400" height="300"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=7804719&amp;amp;server=vimeo.com&amp;amp;show_title=1&amp;amp;show_byline=1&amp;amp;show_portrait=0&amp;amp;color=&amp;amp;fullscreen=1"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=7804719&amp;amp;server=vimeo.com&amp;amp;show_title=1&amp;amp;show_byline=1&amp;amp;show_portrait=0&amp;amp;color=&amp;amp;fullscreen=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" width="400" height="300"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://vimeo.com/7804719"&gt;mags&lt;/a&gt; from &lt;a href="http://vimeo.com/user966647"&gt;missy doll&lt;/a&gt; on &lt;a href="http://vimeo.com"&gt;Vimeo&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1455244974087269178-3327253483329880443?l=itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/ElTI/~4/VN_PZu9ClLg" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/feeds/3327253483329880443/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1455244974087269178&amp;postID=3327253483329880443&amp;isPopup=true" title="8 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1455244974087269178/posts/default/3327253483329880443?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1455244974087269178/posts/default/3327253483329880443?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/ElTI/~3/VN_PZu9ClLg/joy-that-is-maggie.html" title="The joy that is Maggie" /><author><name>Missy @ It's Almost Naptime</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11264845015930907294</uri><email>itsalmostnaptime@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="00395478587850420860" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">8</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/2009/11/joy-that-is-maggie.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkQASHk6eSp7ImA9WxNbGUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1455244974087269178.post-3183048785633083290</id><published>2009-11-23T02:31:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-23T03:25:49.711-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-23T03:25:49.711-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="walker" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="marriage" /><title>Happy Anniversary to Us</title><content type="html">Seven years ago today, I married my best friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Literally, I am not just being cliche. He was my best friend, my "straight-gay friend", who replaced my gay-gay friend and surrogate brother Tony, whom I had palled around with since high school until he moved to LA. Walker was just as funny and fun as Tony. Only thing lacking was his decorating skills. (I still miss Tony's decorating advice every time I have to pick out paint.) In fact Walker and I hung out so much and did so many fun things together that my mom had it in her head that Walker really was my Tony replacement, in every since of the word&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, so when I told her I was in love with Walker, her first response was, "but isn't he gay?" Not based on his personality, she had only met him once. Although if you met Tony, you might not know how well he can rearrange a room right away. Anyway, Mom was wrong, Walker can't pick out paint to save his life, I have four babies to prove it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I digress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seven years ago was the very best day of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Truly it was. I have had four other very important days since then. But they weren't the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;best &lt;/span&gt;days. If you get down to it, something really wonderful happened on each of those other four days, but the days themselves weren't anywhere near as fun as my wedding. And had I not had four big glorious needles in my spine, those four days wouldn't have been any fun at all. Plus I much, much preferred my wedding dress to a hospital gown. Most importantly, without this day we are celebrating, the other days would never have come to be. Which brings me back to my original point: my wedding day was the best day of my entire life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seven years ago, I walked down the aisle and found my soon-to-be-husband with tears running down his face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hadn't expected &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; at all. In all my many (many, many) visions of my wedding, I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;never&lt;/span&gt; expected the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;groom&lt;/span&gt; to cry. I always expected &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;me&lt;/span&gt; to cry, which led to paranoia about black mascara stains on white besequined bodices. When I saw him crying, I was so shocked, it made me giggle. That plus the joy I felt at marrying my best friend - my best &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;straight&lt;/span&gt; friend - caused me to giggle throughout the entire ceremony. Which probably was some kind of foreshadowing: my giggling, him crying. Tee hee hee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seven years ago today, I giggled "I do."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still do baby.&lt;br /&gt;You're the most wonderful thing to ever happen to me.&lt;br /&gt;Scratch, scratch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="300" width="400"&gt;&lt;param name="allowfullscreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=2329339&amp;amp;server=vimeo.com&amp;amp;show_title=1&amp;amp;show_byline=1&amp;amp;show_portrait=0&amp;amp;color=&amp;amp;fullscreen=1"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://vimeo.com/moogaloop.swf?clip_id=2329339&amp;amp;server=vimeo.com&amp;amp;show_title=1&amp;amp;show_byline=1&amp;amp;show_portrait=0&amp;amp;color=&amp;amp;fullscreen=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowscriptaccess="always" height="300" width="400"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1455244974087269178-3183048785633083290?l=itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/ElTI/~4/sVnjjlfwgBo" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/feeds/3183048785633083290/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1455244974087269178&amp;postID=3183048785633083290&amp;isPopup=true" title="28 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1455244974087269178/posts/default/3183048785633083290?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1455244974087269178/posts/default/3183048785633083290?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/ElTI/~3/sVnjjlfwgBo/happy-anniversary-to-us.html" title="Happy Anniversary to Us" /><author><name>Missy @ It's Almost Naptime</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11264845015930907294</uri><email>itsalmostnaptime@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="00395478587850420860" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">28</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/2009/11/happy-anniversary-to-us.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUUHQX0_fip7ImA9WxNbFkk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1455244974087269178.post-8907673496542654358</id><published>2009-11-19T08:22:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-19T09:07:10.346-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-19T09:07:10.346-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="link love" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="youtube" /><title>Thursday link love</title><content type="html">So, I'm just gonna leave you with a little link love so I can, um, go finish some Christmas decorating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow is Friday Faves - either or both - your favorite Thanksgiving recipe, and or plus in addition to or your favorite leftover turkey and or plus by the way your favorite crockpot recipe. Because it's getting down on into the chilly 70s in Houston - oh yeah baby, it's crockpot weather!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On to the links:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.dailymail.co.uk/health/article-1224825/So--men-REALLY-think-sex-seven-seconds-We-explode-medical-myths-doctors-believe.html"&gt;They say men think about s*x every seven seconds, but I have always wondered how they could actually get any thinking about college football or trying to recall Def Leppard lyrics if that were true  &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Vatican recently produced an &lt;a href="http://www.vatican.va/various/basiliche/san_giovanni/vr_tour/index-it.html"&gt;online visual tour&lt;/a&gt; that is absolutely stunning&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://asoftplace.net/2009/11/a-thankful-tree/"&gt;This Thankful Tree&lt;/a&gt; is so cool (everything Kimba does is so cool)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've really been enjoying these &lt;a href="http://www.desiringgod.org/Blog/2096_ask_pastor_john_audio_and_video/"&gt;Ask Pastor John podcasts&lt;/a&gt; with John Piper&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Speaking of podcasts: &lt;a href="http://www.backstoryradio.org/"&gt;this my new favorite&lt;/a&gt;. Look in their 2009 archives for the one on motherhood&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Preach on, &lt;a href="http://babybangs.blogspot.com/2009/11/future-trophy-wife.html"&gt;Amanda&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And last but not at all least, this will bless you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="340" width="560"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/Sqz5dbs5zmo&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/Sqz5dbs5zmo&amp;amp;hl=en_US&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="340" width="560"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The flames are hot, but their heart is chill...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1455244974087269178-8907673496542654358?l=itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/ElTI/~4/rlsvVjzUUVM" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/feeds/8907673496542654358/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1455244974087269178&amp;postID=8907673496542654358&amp;isPopup=true" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1455244974087269178/posts/default/8907673496542654358?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1455244974087269178/posts/default/8907673496542654358?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/ElTI/~3/rlsvVjzUUVM/thursday-link-love.html" title="Thursday link love" /><author><name>Missy @ It's Almost Naptime</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11264845015930907294</uri><email>itsalmostnaptime@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="00395478587850420860" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">4</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/2009/11/thursday-link-love.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUIDQHk9cSp7ImA9WxNbEkQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1455244974087269178.post-5500018008585989147</id><published>2009-11-14T21:00:00.014-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-15T07:59:31.769-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-15T07:59:31.769-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Shepherd" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="holidays" /><title>But for now, my down comforter and 14 pillows are a-callin</title><content type="html">I remember when Shepherd was first born, I would hold him in my lap and gaze at his beauty. I delighted in every squeak, every gas smile, every jerky little hand motion to his angelic face. I could stare at him all day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After about two weeks of this, my husband glanced at our precious creation as I inhaled another hit off my son's silky head. Then Walker yawned, stretched, scratched, and asked, "Soooo, when's he gonna get fun?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aghast, I cried out defensively, "What do you mean?? He is the most fun thing ever! Did you hear that burp? Did you see him try to suck his thumb yesterday? He is SO! FUN!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Walker shook his head dismissively. "Nah. Seriously. When's he gonna get &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;fun&lt;/span&gt;?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think my husband would agree that now, six years later, his son has fully achieved Fun Status. Because at this moment, they are in Bastrop State Park getting their Father/Son/Father's Best Friend From High School/Father's Best Friend From High School's Son Bonding Fun On.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And just as I felt a sweet stirring in my heart the first time Eva Rose and I went shoe shopping together, I believe Walker is having A Moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It all began with a trip to REI last night for supplies (if I find the receipt, I have said I will not look at it) while I washed the sleeping bag that has been sitting in our garage for lo these seven years, and a borrowed backpack (mean wife would not allow an investment in a new one until circumstances proved that camping would occur more frequently than once a decade.) Then, early this morning, they were off into the wilderness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404168911271036130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Sv92_gaFBOI/AAAAAAAA4xM/V2nzGFGaKoI/s320/DSC07407.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have seen several facebook uploads like this one&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Sv92_W2FCiI/AAAAAAAA4w8/uWm8mX_S-vs/s1600-h/15950_175525046657_610476657_3058875_2994978_n.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404168908704123426" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Sv92_W2FCiI/AAAAAAAA4w8/uWm8mX_S-vs/s320/15950_175525046657_610476657_3058875_2994978_n.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and received one phone call, describing a meal of freeze dried lasagna and lots of giggles. "Are you having fun?" I asked. "Momma, I'm SPAZZING!" Shep assured me. I can only imagine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would say I wish I were there, but that would be a big fat lie. Yours truly is way, way, way too attached to indoor plumbing and white noise machines to be an outdoorsy kind of girl. I'm an indoorsy, hot showering, DVR watching in air conditioned comfort type of girl. And not ashamed to say so. As I flush my Cottenelle Ultra far, far away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While the boys search for trees on which to pee, the girls and I have a mission. And a challenge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For as my husband reluctantly lugged the many, many, many boxes of Christmas decorations down from the attic late last night, he declared, "I bet I come home and you haven't done jack. I bet all these boxes are still sitting right here unopened."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All right, Mountain Man, I'll see your decorations and raise you a load of laundry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's the current status (excuse the crummy iPhone pix, my camera is currently sleeping under the stars):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dining room:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Sv9-klrTHQI/AAAAAAAA43I/W8VmXxtNqnA/s1600-h/photo-10.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404177244921994498" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Sv9-klrTHQI/AAAAAAAA43I/W8VmXxtNqnA/s320/photo-10.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The living area:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Sv9-kH6kccI/AAAAAAAA424/Ks0vZQ1ofIk/s1600-h/photo-9.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404177236932981186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Sv9-kH6kccI/AAAAAAAA424/Ks0vZQ1ofIk/s320/photo-9.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The kitchen table:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Sv9-kRVx3GI/AAAAAAAA43A/6IVLKUEwmGM/s1600-h/photo-13.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404177239463025762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Sv9-kRVx3GI/AAAAAAAA43A/6IVLKUEwmGM/s320/photo-13.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And oh, heaven help me, the garage:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Sv9_iH-gC2I/AAAAAAAA44w/VulNzGKSM7s/s1600-h/photo-16.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5404178302101359458" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Sv9_iH-gC2I/AAAAAAAA44w/VulNzGKSM7s/s320/photo-16.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've miles to go, but I CAN DO IT!!&lt;br /&gt;I am the little Christmas tree that COULD!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Check in for an update tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I can I think I can I think I can I think I can...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1455244974087269178-5500018008585989147?l=itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/ElTI/~4/ch2CxetL34E" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/feeds/5500018008585989147/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1455244974087269178&amp;postID=5500018008585989147&amp;isPopup=true" title="10 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1455244974087269178/posts/default/5500018008585989147?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1455244974087269178/posts/default/5500018008585989147?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/ElTI/~3/ch2CxetL34E/but-for-now-my-down-comforter-and-14.html" title="But for now, my down comforter and 14 pillows are a-callin" /><author><name>Missy @ It's Almost Naptime</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11264845015930907294</uri><email>itsalmostnaptime@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="00395478587850420860" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Sv92_gaFBOI/AAAAAAAA4xM/V2nzGFGaKoI/s72-c/DSC07407.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">10</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/2009/11/but-for-now-my-down-comforter-and-14.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0AMRH4yfyp7ImA9WxNUF0Q.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1455244974087269178.post-1924474376272076409</id><published>2009-11-09T00:00:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-09T14:49:45.097-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-09T14:49:45.097-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="it's a big bad world but Christ has overcome it" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="adoption" /><title>Tension</title><content type="html">&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/SvfCfsnbVeI/AAAAAAAA4iY/isnkmWIRb9c/s1600-h/istock_000003083128xsmall_2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 159px; height: 238px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/SvfCfsnbVeI/AAAAAAAA4iY/isnkmWIRb9c/s320/istock_000003083128xsmall_2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5402000127862461922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today we had a guest pastor at church who preached on Habakkuk. That book you've probably never read - me neither. He asked, when is or was the Kingdom of God among us?  a) When Christ was on Earth, b) now, or c) at  the Second Coming of Christ? And the answer is: yes, yes, and yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He compared where we are now - in this period between to two comings - using some World Series baseball analogy about rings or something. So as I must always do when pastors use such analogies, I created myself another that made sense to my sports averse brain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought of this one: when we adopt, there will be a date that a judge in Ethiopia declares our baby legally ours. All of our work and prayers and groaning will have officially accomplished the goal with the thud of a gavel. But - we won't have traveled yet,  we won't have even laid eyes on him or her.  It won't feel complete. There will be an interim period where the child is ours, but not yet ours. Full hearts, but empty arms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is where we live now, in the Kingdom of God. Christ has come. Christ will come again. But for now, as we live suspended between those two times, there is tension.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get it.&lt;br /&gt;My entire life feels like that right now.&lt;br /&gt;And I'm tense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our house is on the market, but garnering very little interest. Do we take it off and refinance? Do we leave it on and wait for the one magic buyer? Are we supposed to move? Are we supposed to sit still? &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Tension.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Much of the adoption is tied to the house. For now, I can't proceed until the house thing gets settled. But there is no clear direction on the house. I want to get a move on with the adoption. But my hands are tied. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Tension. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my children is having medical issues. Nothing life threatening, but constant, aggravating, and serious. We've spent much time recently in the hospital having tests run.  The results: inconclusive. The treatment: nonexistent. The prognosis: unknown. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Tension.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Very, very important things are out of control. And the control freak in me is, well, freaking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While spiritually, I am agitated, frustrated, and barren.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because just as this tension exists on earth - between the &lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=luke%2019:39-40&amp;amp;version=NIV"&gt;rocks crying out&lt;/a&gt; that Jesus is Lord while the &lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Romans%208:22&amp;amp;version=NIV"&gt;earth still groans&lt;/a&gt; for freedom from decay,  between the glory of God being manifest before our very eyes to our encounters with the unspeakable evil that still reigns free - the tension also exists within me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When times are very very good, I am full of praise for the Father. And when times are very very bad, I cling desperately to his feet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But then there are the interim times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the interim times, when life is flowing, reasonable, manageable, my house of cards stays steady. But one small gust of wind in the form of a stomach virus or a husband out of town or a birthday party to plan and the tense rubber band &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;snaps&lt;/span&gt; - and I snap - and my house collapses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because there is a tension that exists within my own soul between the old slave to sin and the &lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=2%20Corinthians+5:17&amp;amp;version=NIV"&gt;new creation&lt;/a&gt;. I am fully redeemed, yet not fully transformed. Fully justified, but not fully sanctified. Fully loved, but not fully lovely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or as Paul said in Romans 7:22-25, one of my favorite passages:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;For in my inner being I delight in God's law; but I see another law at work in the members of my body, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within my members. What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God—through Jesus Christ our Lord!  So then, I myself in my mind am a slave to God's law, but in the sinful nature a slave to the law of sin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Oh, who &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;will&lt;/span&gt; rescue me from this wretched body of death?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know the answers. I know the only antidote to anxiety comes from the One who will give me rest, yet, irritated, I turn away from Him. I know he offers the peace that passes my understanding but I cling to my chaos. The more I resist him, the more I sin. The more I sin, the more I resist him. My hospitality turns to hostility. Patience leaves me. I growl at my family, I berate myself, I nap more, engage less, watch more TV, read less, eat more Halloween candy, exercise less, and complain about the tension between my shoulder blades in this aching body of death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet ironically, stupidly, the one thing I can control in this time of uncertainty is the way the tension snaps. I can snap away towards the things of this world that bring me no peace and make a difficult situation even worse, which is exactly what I have been doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or instead of resisting God I can resist the dead woman inside of me, and snap towards the one who longs to gather me unto Himself,  and remind myself of the things He has promised.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;If God is for us, who can be against us?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit of life set me free from the law of sin and death.&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Then&lt;/span&gt; you will be able to test and approve what God's will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, snap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1455244974087269178-1924474376272076409?l=itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/ElTI/~4/CvLfJlzOrG8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/feeds/1924474376272076409/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1455244974087269178&amp;postID=1924474376272076409&amp;isPopup=true" title="28 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1455244974087269178/posts/default/1924474376272076409?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1455244974087269178/posts/default/1924474376272076409?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/ElTI/~3/CvLfJlzOrG8/tension.html" title="Tension" /><author><name>Missy @ It's Almost Naptime</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11264845015930907294</uri><email>itsalmostnaptime@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="00395478587850420860" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/SvfCfsnbVeI/AAAAAAAA4iY/isnkmWIRb9c/s72-c/istock_000003083128xsmall_2.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">28</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/2009/11/tension.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0UGRHk-eSp7ImA9WxNUFEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1455244974087269178.post-6391374186688986783</id><published>2009-11-06T01:11:00.010-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-06T02:13:45.751-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-06T02:13:45.751-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Friday Faves" /><title>Friday Faves - Best Toys for Kids, In Case Santa Should Ask</title><content type="html">&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i601.photobucket.com/albums/tt94/memoriesbydesign/FridayFavesButton-1.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;div style="border: 2px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); overflow: auto; width: 125px; height: 55px;"&gt;&amp;lt;center&amp;gt;&amp;lt;a href="http://www.itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/"&amp;gt;&amp;lt;img src="http://i601.photobucket.com/albums/tt94/memoriesbydesign/FridayFavesButton-1.png"/&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/center&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/td&amp;gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am coming out of my unintended bloggy slump to do today's Friday Fave's because I really do want to hear your answers on this before I get my Christmas shopping on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A note on Christmas shopping. Here is my advice: if you go to Target one day round mid October with only a clueless two year old for company and feel oh so proud of yourself for knocking out half your Christmas shopping, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;be sure and get the loot out of the back of the car. &lt;/span&gt;Because when the kids find half their Santa toys on Halloween, it puts a massive kink in your ever so impressive plans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to toys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can tell you the ones that have stood the test of time and torture at the Naptime household. Really, Fisher Price, Little Tykes etc should use us as a test market. If it can last two weeks in this household, it is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;solid.&lt;/span&gt; Because my kids are de to the struct to the ive. Every stinkin one of them. Eva Rose is not as bad as the others, but even she tied every blind cord in the house together the other day. I know the blind cords are supposed to be kept out of reach. THEY WERE. But these kids have super powers. I am pretty sure Maggie can shoot laser beams from her blue eyes that will catch any toy on fire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That would explain a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And since we have children of all ages and stages, my favorite toys are ones that everyone can enjoy. It can happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Toys Which Have Withstood The Torture and Time Test include:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1) Leap Frog Learn and Groove Musical Table&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/SvPO8Mz472I/AAAAAAAA4UQ/uVXQt4FFAP8/s1600-h/leap+frog+musical+table.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 280px; height: 280px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/SvPO8Mz472I/AAAAAAAA4UQ/uVXQt4FFAP8/s320/leap+frog+musical+table.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400887911773695842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing is sturdy, the music is so cool and jazzy, you will sing along (onetwothreefourfivesixsevenEIGHTNIIIIINETEN!) which will impress your children, and they never, ever get tired of this thing. Shep played with it from the ages of 5 months to 5 years, when we lost the battery cover. But he would use the piano when he played "band".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2) Bristle blocks&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/SvPQII2EOVI/AAAAAAAA4UY/s_l5xG9IcrY/s1600-h/61AKy5YF2RL._SS500_.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 235px; height: 235px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/SvPQII2EOVI/AAAAAAAA4UY/s_l5xG9IcrY/s320/61AKy5YF2RL._SS500_.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400889216379140434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Babies teethe on them, two year olds learn to manipulate them, and 6 year olds still use them to build cars and rockets and, of course, guns.  Target carries a nice set by Parents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3) Legos&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/SvPUdvdR00I/AAAAAAAA4Ug/VYa9Nwcd9m8/s1600-h/41GxYOGAlaL._SL500_AA280_.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 182px; height: 182px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/SvPUdvdR00I/AAAAAAAA4Ug/VYa9Nwcd9m8/s320/41GxYOGAlaL._SL500_AA280_.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400893985567920962" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This goes without saying, right? My brother used to build the most amazing cars while I built little stages with little Donny and Maries holding little microphones. And now, Shep builds the most amazing cars while Eva Rose builds little parks with little people playing in them. Although last week Shep came up to me holding a square built of Legos and asked if I had any wire. Why, I asked. For my bomb, he replied. So I guess he's graduated from guns now. We're very proud.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also used to walk across my brother's legos when they were spread all over the floor and pretend I was walking across broken glass like some lady on TV used to do - what TV show was that??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4) Big Ole Box of Art Supplies&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/SvPZRVwOWNI/AAAAAAAA4fk/pPbtqJIZgKw/s1600-h/IMG_0530.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/SvPZRVwOWNI/AAAAAAAA4fk/pPbtqJIZgKw/s320/IMG_0530.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400899270067771602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Recently I did a happy dance in a dollar store (it happens more than you might think) (I HEART dollar stores) (it's a sickness I come by honest. My mom will call me on the phone to rejoice over a newly discovered dollar store) because I found a huge bag of google eyes along with a plethora of other awesome doodads like popsicle sticks, seashells, colored straws, wires for bombs, pipe cleaners and construction paper. I spent about ten bucks and have bought my daughters and occasionally my son HOURS of creative fun.  Independent fun. (Read, Mommy gets a break fun.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Musical instruments&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/SvPUeJDpPSI/AAAAAAAA4Uw/RAwJKpkCnNs/s1600-h/41tci863yYL._SL500_AA280_.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 101px; height: 101px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/SvPUeJDpPSI/AAAAAAAA4Uw/RAwJKpkCnNs/s320/41tci863yYL._SL500_AA280_.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400893992439725346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/SvPUeEhzjGI/AAAAAAAA4Uo/byuqL77-TxM/s1600-h/41wSqPdfmvL._SS500_.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 132px; height: 132px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/SvPUeEhzjGI/AAAAAAAA4Uo/byuqL77-TxM/s320/41wSqPdfmvL._SS500_.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5400893991224052834" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;They never grow tired of them. You, however, will want to take the bomb wire and poke out your eardrums. But Christmas is a time of giving until it &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;hurts&lt;/span&gt;, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some good news: you can skip the kiddy drum sets. They all have a shelf life of about three days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know there are more, but it is 2am y'all, and I have a &lt;a href="http://smockaholicsanonymous.blogspot.com/"&gt;busy day tomorrow&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've got preschool toys covered. I really need to know some great gifts for boys and girls ages 6 and up. Santa was last seen lugging &lt;a href="http://www.costco.com/Browse/Product.aspx?Prodid=11471524&amp;amp;search=marbles&amp;amp;Mo=15&amp;amp;cm_re=1_en-_-Top_Left_Nav-_-Top_search&amp;amp;lang=en-US&amp;amp;Nr=P_CatalogName:BC&amp;amp;Sp=S&amp;amp;N=5000043&amp;amp;whse=BC&amp;amp;Dx=mode+matchallpartial&amp;amp;Ntk=Text_Search&amp;amp;Dr=P_CatalogName:BC&amp;amp;Ne=4000000&amp;amp;D=marbles&amp;amp;Ntt=marbles&amp;amp;No=7&amp;amp;Ntx=mode+matchallpartial&amp;amp;Nty=1&amp;amp;topnav=&amp;amp;s=1"&gt;this&lt;/a&gt; out of Costco.  I think if Santa brought &lt;a href="http://about.pricegrabber.com/search_getprod.php/masterid=38831874/search=i%20can%20play%20guitar&amp;amp;mode=about_toys&amp;amp;"&gt; this&lt;/a&gt;, a certain little boy would faint. Any other suggestions?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Link away, Sister Santas...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript" src="http://www2.blenza.com/linkies/autolink.php?owner=missydoll&amp;amp;postid=06Nov2009&amp;amp;meme=3367"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1455244974087269178-6391374186688986783?l=itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/ElTI/~4/dyXc7rMIoDQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/feeds/6391374186688986783/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1455244974087269178&amp;postID=6391374186688986783&amp;isPopup=true" title="10 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1455244974087269178/posts/default/6391374186688986783?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1455244974087269178/posts/default/6391374186688986783?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/ElTI/~3/dyXc7rMIoDQ/friday-faves-best-toys-for-kids.html" title="Friday Faves - Best Toys for Kids, In Case Santa Should Ask" /><author><name>Missy @ It's Almost Naptime</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11264845015930907294</uri><email>itsalmostnaptime@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="00395478587850420860" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/SvPO8Mz472I/AAAAAAAA4UQ/uVXQt4FFAP8/s72-c/leap+frog+musical+table.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">10</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/2009/11/friday-faves-best-toys-for-kids.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0MMRn06fSp7ImA9WxNUEkw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1455244974087269178.post-1923774561841688185</id><published>2009-11-02T09:19:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2009-11-02T19:24:47.315-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-02T19:24:47.315-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="recipes" /><title>Next we'll crank up the air conditioner and light up the fireplace</title><content type="html">This morning Shep woke up and requested pancakes for breakfast. And because since daylight savings time we actually are waking up in plenty of stinking time to make a real "brestfast" as my kids all call it, I decided to indulge him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I decided in my pre-coffee haze that pumpkin pancakes would be a fantastic way to kick off Fall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if you just said, "Kick off Fall? What? It's been Fall for a month now!" then obviously you must live near &lt;a href="http://lovewell.blogspot.com/2009/11/let-sun-shine-in.html"&gt;Kelly&lt;/a&gt;, not in live Houston, where God blessed us with different seasons: Almost Summer, Summer, Still Summer,  and Oh My Skull It's Christmas And It's 85 Degrees Outside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the calendar does say Fall, so I'm feeling pumpkin-y. I am not a pancake person (I know, I know, how unAmerican of me) but I LOVE these:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; Pumpkin Pie Pancakes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 c. Bisquick&lt;br /&gt;1 c. canned pumpkin&lt;br /&gt;1 egg&lt;br /&gt;1 c. milk (use more if the batter's too thick)&lt;br /&gt;1/2 c. brown sugar&lt;br /&gt;1 large spoon Karo&lt;br /&gt;1 tsp. cinnamon&lt;br /&gt;1 tsp. ginger&lt;br /&gt;1/2 t. salt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy the masquerade!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1455244974087269178-1923774561841688185?l=itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/ElTI/~4/rCsKOx5PFIc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/feeds/1923774561841688185/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1455244974087269178&amp;postID=1923774561841688185&amp;isPopup=true" title="16 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1455244974087269178/posts/default/1923774561841688185?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1455244974087269178/posts/default/1923774561841688185?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/ElTI/~3/rCsKOx5PFIc/next-well-crank-up-air-conditioner-and.html" title="Next we'll crank up the air conditioner and light up the fireplace" /><author><name>Missy @ It's Almost Naptime</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11264845015930907294</uri><email>itsalmostnaptime@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="00395478587850420860" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">16</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/2009/11/next-well-crank-up-air-conditioner-and.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUYDRXo8fip7ImA9WxNUEEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1455244974087269178.post-8447796564110944691</id><published>2009-10-31T21:21:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-01T00:26:14.476-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-01T00:26:14.476-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="holidays" /><title>Trick or treat!</title><content type="html">&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Suzw3UZ0SRI/AAAAAAAA358/9WsTPXjmG7c/s1600-h/DSC07373.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Suzw3UZ0SRI/AAAAAAAA358/9WsTPXjmG7c/s320/DSC07373.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398954886470846738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The &lt;a href="http://www.examiner.com/x-300-Fatherhood-Examiner%7Ey2009m10d30-Jon-Gosselin-and-Octomom-reality-TV-show"&gt;rumors&lt;/a&gt; are true!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1455244974087269178-8447796564110944691?l=itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/ElTI/~4/Iw4vt-lgqak" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/feeds/8447796564110944691/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1455244974087269178&amp;postID=8447796564110944691&amp;isPopup=true" title="9 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1455244974087269178/posts/default/8447796564110944691?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1455244974087269178/posts/default/8447796564110944691?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/ElTI/~3/Iw4vt-lgqak/guess-who.html" title="Trick or treat!" /><author><name>Missy @ It's Almost Naptime</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11264845015930907294</uri><email>itsalmostnaptime@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="00395478587850420860" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Suzw3UZ0SRI/AAAAAAAA358/9WsTPXjmG7c/s72-c/DSC07373.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">9</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/2009/10/guess-who.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D04MQnw9eyp7ImA9WxNVGUs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1455244974087269178.post-2267944534209146575</id><published>2009-10-31T00:11:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-31T00:13:03.263-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-31T00:13:03.263-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Maggie" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="holidays" /><title>happy halloweeeeeeeeeeeeeen</title><content type="html">&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/SuvHMxOBTRI/AAAAAAAA34Y/1ILIQyJ5MzQ/s1600-h/DSC07230-1.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/SuvHMxOBTRI/AAAAAAAA34Y/1ILIQyJ5MzQ/s320/DSC07230-1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5398627600518171922" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1455244974087269178-2267944534209146575?l=itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/ElTI/~4/kVaBhCwMpks" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/feeds/2267944534209146575/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1455244974087269178&amp;postID=2267944534209146575&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1455244974087269178/posts/default/2267944534209146575?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1455244974087269178/posts/default/2267944534209146575?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/ElTI/~3/kVaBhCwMpks/happy-halloweeeeeeeeeeeeeen.html" title="happy halloweeeeeeeeeeeeeen" /><author><name>Missy @ It's Almost Naptime</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11264845015930907294</uri><email>itsalmostnaptime@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="00395478587850420860" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/SuvHMxOBTRI/AAAAAAAA34Y/1ILIQyJ5MzQ/s72-c/DSC07230-1.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/2009/10/happy-halloweeeeeeeeeeeeeen.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DE8DQn8yeip7ImA9WxNUEUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1455244974087269178.post-810217576355699285</id><published>2009-10-29T18:11:00.013-05:00</published><updated>2009-11-02T09:47:53.192-06:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-11-02T09:47:53.192-06:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Ethiopia" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="pretend we are at Starbucks" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="adoption" /><title>Ethiopia Adoption Q&amp;A</title><content type="html">So many of our family and friends have been asking questions about Ethiopia. I got another one today and thought, hey....I do have this thing called a blog...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pretend we are at Starbucks...sipping some strong Ethiopian java.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Why do you want to adopt?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: The short answer: We want more children. There are children who want parents. Voila.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The long answer: God placed a love of adoption on both of our hearts before we ever met. Walker's favorite verse has always been &lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=gal%204:6-7&amp;amp;version=NIV"&gt;Galatians 4:6-7&lt;/a&gt; - it was one of the verses we chose to print in our wedding bulletin. Both of us feel that next to marriage, adoption is the closest earthly reproduction of God's love for us. We are blessed and honored and humbled to mimic our Father in this manner: to choose a child who is not of us, to call him or her our own, and make him or her our beloved heir - in the same way that the Lord did for us via the blood of our Savior Jesus Christ.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are 147 million orphans in the world. That number makes me weep. I would mother all of them if I could. I can't. But I can mother at least one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What? Ethiopia? I thought you wanted a baby from China?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: We did. I have dreamed of getting a little girl from China for years and years. Unfortunately, due to a variety of reasons, it is getting harder and harder to adopt from China and the wait is very long, as in 4-6 years minimum long. And personally, I just don't trust China not to shut down their program all of a sudden, leaving hundreds of parents and orphans stranded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So why Ethiopia?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: The short answer: we don't have much choice. Most countries will not adopt out their orphans to homes with more than three previous kids. (Because an orphanage with hundreds of kids is better than a loving home with four kids?  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Don't get me started!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Also, we can get a baby from Ethiopia, and I want as tiny a baby as possible. Ethiopia is also one of the cheaper countries from which to adopt, the timing is quicker (15-18 months, usually), we only travel to Ethiopia one time and only stay about a week, and the process is pretty straightforward. Not that we had much of a choice, because did I mention most countries think an orphanage with hundreds of children is better than a loving home with four children??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The long answer:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;life expectancy in Ethiopia 39 years for males and 42 years for females. The leading cause of death is communicable diseases such as malaria, typhoid, meningitis, cholera, AIDS, tuberculosis, yellow fever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Woman have an average of 7 children and the maternal mortality rate is 1 in 14&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Ethiopia's neonatal mortality rate is one of the highest in the world - 49/1000 births with tetanus infection being the second major cause of infant/neonatal death.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Ethiopia is one of the poorest countries in the world. Over half the population lives on less than a $1 a day. The average income in Ethiopia is US$100 a year. Almost 82% of the population lives on less than $1 a day.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Malnutrition levels are among the highest in the world.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Ethiopia is experiencing yet another drought now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Ethiopia is home to 4-6 million orphans, or 12% of all children.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;That is the same number of children under age 18 who reside in Massachusetts, New York State, and Washington DC combined. If &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;every&lt;/span&gt; parent in those places died tonight - that would be similar to Ethiopia's orphan crisis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;More than half a million of these were orphaned as a result of AIDS.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Only 42.7% age 15 and over can read and write.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Only 18 percent of children reach grade five. That means 82% of children don't.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;Added bonus: Ethiopia produces the cutest babies of pretty much anywhere on the planet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other country we seriously considered was Rwanda, which has just begun adopting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;There are plenty of kids who need homes here in America. Why aren't you adopting one of them?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: There are plenty of kids who need homes here in America. Why aren't &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;you&lt;/span&gt; adopting one of them?&lt;br /&gt;We believe that God is calling us to Ethiopia this time. You either get that, or you don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Who is your agency, and why did you choose them?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: &lt;a href="http://www.adoptionsbygladney.com/index.html"&gt;Gladney&lt;/a&gt; in Ft. Worth. Gladney has been around forever (literally, it is the oldest in the country) and has an excellent reputation. One of my best friends growing up was a Gladney baby, so I have always known about it. And, they are in Texas. Which earns them even more points.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;How does all this work?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: We are just beginning the paperchase now, which is extensive and overwhelming. As soon as all that is completed and we turn in what is called a dossier, we will receive a referral - hopefully by this time next year. A referral is a photograph of our child and information about him or her. After we accept the referral, the child will be taken from an orphanage to a home run by Gladney, where he or she will be loved and fattened up, essentially. Then there are two court dates. If we pass both of them the first time, we will plan our trip to go get our baby. And finally post photos on the blog!! We are hoping to have a babe-in-arms sometime early 2011.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am on a yahoo adoption board, and lots of families passed court this past week. It is thrilling to see the rejoicing emails.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Are you getting a girl or a boy?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: We are pretending we're pregnant and taking whatever God gives us. We will get whoever is next on the list. Our chances of getting a boy are higher, since most families request girls. Hopefully our baby will be less than a year old when we get him or her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;What if the baby has AIDS?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: The babies are tested at least twice before they are adopted. The chances are very low. We are requesting a healthy child. There are many special needs children who need to be adopted, but I simply don't have the bandwidth for that right now. Maybe someday, when our children are older and more independent, that would be an option.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Um, can I ask about how much this all costs?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: Um, about 20,000 buckaroos.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Oh, we could never afford to do that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: Most people can't. Most people can't afford a new car either, but when they want or need one, they seem to find the money somehow. {smile}&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Um, so, like, how are you getting that money?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: Um, so, can we borrow about 20,000 buckaroos? We haven't figured all that out yet. But we know that God loves adoption and believe that He will provide.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Please don't think that knowing that doesn't mean I don't have 12 count 'em 12 zits on my chin at the moment, my shoulders are hard as a rock, and my friend Nicole had to hug me today when I burst into tears. God is faithful - Missy is a stressbag.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and, Uncle Sam gives you a $12,000 adoption tax credit. Cool, huh? Also, Walker's company gives an adoption benefit - &lt;a href="http://www.holtintl.org/adoption/benefits.shtml"&gt;many companies do&lt;/a&gt;. So we will get that back. We just have to come up with the money up front - that is the hard part. But ultimatelyl we hope to only be out around $6,000. Small price to pay for another sugarlump.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(My fantasy is for our church to provide adoption grants to families as part of the missions budget. Maybe someday.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Will you put a little donation thingy on your blog like some people do?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: Walker is not comfortable with that. But if I can figure out a way for people to donate miles to us for the trip over, I will.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;So you will actually go to Ethiopia?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: Yes, for about a week. I have always wanted to go to Africa so I am psyched. And I definitely want to see the land that is giving us our baby. And no, we don't intend to take our kids. Unless we get LOTS and LOTS of miles donated!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;How do the kids feel about the adoption?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: Thrilled. Every one of them adores babies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;How does your extended family feel about the adoption?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: Some are more encouraging than others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Are you worried about being a white family adopting a black baby?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: We know it will have its difficulties. We consider them minuscule in comparison to the difficulty of being an orphan in a devastated country like Ethiopia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Q: &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Where can I get more information?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A: Oh, I am SO glad you asked. One of the best websites is &lt;a href="http://www.thereisnomewithoutyou.com/"&gt;There Is No Me Without You&lt;/a&gt;, by Melissa Fay Greene, who wrote a book of the same name that I have not yet read. It is a wealth of information, and &lt;a href="http://www.thereisnomewithoutyou.com/book_reviews_and_profiles?op=view&amp;amp;art=what_will_become"&gt;this article&lt;/a&gt; says it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Orphan Sunday is coming up this Sunday. &lt;a href="http://www.orphansunday.org/"&gt;The website&lt;/a&gt; has lots of information.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can google "Ethiopia adoption blogs" and be kept busy all night. &lt;a href="http://teamalexander.blogspot.com/"&gt;Here&lt;/a&gt; is one of my personal faves. Just start clicking on her blogroll.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://oatsvallteam.blogspot.com/"&gt;Gwen Oatsvall&lt;/a&gt; is one of my favorite people I have never met. She is currently adopting from Uganda - her new website with cute shirts is &lt;a href="http://147millionorphans.com/"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You can also go to YouTube and enter in "&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=ethiopia+adoption&amp;amp;search_type=&amp;amp;aq=0&amp;amp;oq=ethiopia+adop"&gt;Ethiopia adoption&lt;/a&gt;" and be kept busy all night. Have your Kleenex close by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Few of my faves:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="340" width="560"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/_TlOXdAywMY&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/_TlOXdAywMY&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="340" width="560"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/JtsYlsQHV4Q&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/JtsYlsQHV4Q&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/TxnQLGyRc9E&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/TxnQLGyRc9E&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See what I mean? I see these and I know, we'll find a way. We will find a way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I didn't answer any other questions, please leave me a comment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And thanks for askin. ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1455244974087269178-810217576355699285?l=itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/ElTI/~4/8XlDsTkD3B8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/feeds/810217576355699285/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1455244974087269178&amp;postID=810217576355699285&amp;isPopup=true" title="21 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1455244974087269178/posts/default/810217576355699285?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1455244974087269178/posts/default/810217576355699285?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/ElTI/~3/8XlDsTkD3B8/ethiopia-adoption-q.html" title="Ethiopia Adoption Q&amp;A" /><author><name>Missy @ It's Almost Naptime</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11264845015930907294</uri><email>itsalmostnaptime@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="00395478587850420860" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">21</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/2009/10/ethiopia-adoption-q.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUMFQH45cSp7ImA9WxNVF00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1455244974087269178.post-7248868403670722343</id><published>2009-10-27T21:36:00.012-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-27T23:16:51.029-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-27T23:16:51.029-05:00</app:edited><title /><content type="html">&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Sue7qG3FRlI/AAAAAAAA2ZU/2gxhGmqsnWs/s1600-h/IMG_0375.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Sue7qG3FRlI/AAAAAAAA2ZU/2gxhGmqsnWs/s320/IMG_0375.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397489010497373778" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I uploaded all the photos from my iPhone - all 331 of them. Here are some highlights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/SueypBwwJYI/AAAAAAAA2WM/VmIoW9vx1e8/s1600-h/IMG_0035.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/SueypBwwJYI/AAAAAAAA2WM/VmIoW9vx1e8/s320/IMG_0035.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397479096344126850" border="0" /&gt;&lt;span style="display: block;" id="formatbar_Buttons"&gt;&lt;span class=" on" style="display: block;" id="formatbar_Add_Video" title="Add Video" onmouseover="ButtonHoverOn(this);" onmouseout="ButtonHoverOff(this);" onmouseup="addVideo();" onmousedown="CheckFormatting(event);;ButtonMouseDown(this);"&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif" alt="Add Video" class="gl_video" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;One day I picked the kids up from mother's day out, and as we were leaving, the sprinklers came on. Much to their delight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/SueynxNIWGI/AAAAAAAA2V0/hoIlwnABrCo/s1600-h/IMG_0031.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/SueynxNIWGI/AAAAAAAA2V0/hoIlwnABrCo/s320/IMG_0031.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397479074719881314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/SueyoR_1X1I/AAAAAAAA2V8/04D9sVrH8hw/s1600-h/IMG_0043.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/SueyoR_1X1I/AAAAAAAA2V8/04D9sVrH8hw/s320/IMG_0043.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397479083522482002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the frolicking ended,  I was loading soaking wet kids into the car and turned around to find, standing in the parking lot, a naked Maggie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/SueypXlcP6I/AAAAAAAA2WU/cIT1nO7MwkA/s1600-h/IMG_0063a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 268px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/SueypXlcP6I/AAAAAAAA2WU/cIT1nO7MwkA/s320/IMG_0063a.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397479102202265506" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shocking, I know.&lt;br /&gt;I drove the five minutes home scared to death I would get pulled over by a cop and have to explain why I had a butt naked 3 year old strapped in her carseat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Sue0aCe94XI/AAAAAAAA2W0/rgigzX856PM/s1600-h/IMG_0092.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Sue0aCe94XI/AAAAAAAA2W0/rgigzX856PM/s320/IMG_0092.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397481037863182706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shepherd experiences pain in his chest wall sometimes, so we did some tests to make sure it was nothing serious. It isn't. But seeing my baby hooked up to a heart monitor sure made me count my blessings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Sue0ZUvtWkI/AAAAAAAA2Wc/aGmZMyiwIZI/s1600-h/IMG_0068.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Sue0ZUvtWkI/AAAAAAAA2Wc/aGmZMyiwIZI/s320/IMG_0068.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397481025585371714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Korean BBQ date with my man. YUM. Delicious &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; the chance to play with fire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Sue0aQ2yODI/AAAAAAAA2W8/5FskDSL1wNk/s1600-h/IMG_0152.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Sue0aQ2yODI/AAAAAAAA2W8/5FskDSL1wNk/s320/IMG_0152.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397481041721178162" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Shep, at my mom's, posing like a gangsta thug. "Yo, touch my beanie babies and I'll cap ya."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Angry Maggie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Sue2OElCK2I/AAAAAAAA2XU/iPntINTOT6k/s1600-h/IMG_0166.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Sue2OElCK2I/AAAAAAAA2XU/iPntINTOT6k/s320/IMG_0166.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397483031290325858" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Couple months ago we met some friends at the zoo.&lt;br /&gt;At the fountains, guess who did what:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Sue0Z-U9D1I/AAAAAAAA2Ws/KPxMKnM2xn8/s1600-h/IMG_0081.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Sue0Z-U9D1I/AAAAAAAA2Ws/KPxMKnM2xn8/s320/IMG_0081.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397481036747444050" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Final night of VBS. I was so shocked to see my son dancing, I had to document it:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Sue2OlEVGII/AAAAAAAA2Xk/VIGIEtPwDlQ/s1600-h/IMG_0246.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Sue2OlEVGII/AAAAAAAA2Xk/VIGIEtPwDlQ/s320/IMG_0246.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397483040011524226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A serious case of mad cow disease:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Sue2Ob5iykI/AAAAAAAA2Xc/eE9jwNk_TKo/s1600-h/IMG_0200.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Sue2Ob5iykI/AAAAAAAA2Xc/eE9jwNk_TKo/s320/IMG_0200.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397483037550365250" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Meeting (and falling in love with) &lt;a href="http://axisofbeebles.blogspot.com/"&gt;Rosemary&lt;/a&gt; for the first time:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Sue3wqr4ooI/AAAAAAAA2Xs/EHS98aAMWqQ/s1600-h/IMG_0261.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Sue3wqr4ooI/AAAAAAAA2Xs/EHS98aAMWqQ/s320/IMG_0261.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397484725146788482" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Dinner at &lt;a href="http://www.claysrestaurant.com/"&gt;Clay's Restaurant&lt;/a&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Sue3xq_jYjI/AAAAAAAA2YM/cNL_H6m5vIc/s1600-h/IMG_0295.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Sue3xq_jYjI/AAAAAAAA2YM/cNL_H6m5vIc/s320/IMG_0295.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397484742409151026" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Sue3xc-MRxI/AAAAAAAA2YE/_-0UnF5vWG8/s1600-h/IMG_0297.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Sue3xc-MRxI/AAAAAAAA2YE/_-0UnF5vWG8/s320/IMG_0297.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397484738645346066" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Sue3wjPZazI/AAAAAAAA2X0/F_D63zzhjNQ/s1600-h/IMG_0274.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Sue3wjPZazI/AAAAAAAA2X0/F_D63zzhjNQ/s320/IMG_0274.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397484723148254002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you, Lord, for hand sanitizer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;My friend Tracy Jo, in town on a break from med school in Florida. This is the pose Tracy and I perfected several years ago at a wedding. You turn your back to the camera, then turn toward each other, then look over your shoulders.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Sue5hPqN2aI/AAAAAAAA2Y0/P-ckmohYfbE/s1600-h/IMG_0219.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Sue5hPqN2aI/AAAAAAAA2Y0/P-ckmohYfbE/s320/IMG_0219.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397486659217250722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I tell you what/verily verily I say unto you, it is the most flattering way to take a photo. Double chins and pooches magically disappear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Puppy sitting, in an attempt to give my sons their dog fix without actually having to commit to a canine:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Sue5g_LhRZI/AAAAAAAA2Ys/IXXRWvrkUkM/s1600-h/IMG_0350.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Sue5g_LhRZI/AAAAAAAA2Ys/IXXRWvrkUkM/s320/IMG_0350.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397486654793532818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;A boy and his bug:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Sue5gSKUdjI/AAAAAAAA2Yc/zQkqKFmzm-g/s1600-h/IMG_0214.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Sue5gSKUdjI/AAAAAAAA2Yc/zQkqKFmzm-g/s320/IMG_0214.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397486642708903474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I hired a personal trainer this summer and during our last sessions, we took photos so I can do my own workouts. Here I am in a plank. Sixty seconds, baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Sue5gqxjPHI/AAAAAAAA2Yk/nuJ0cbpJBmY/s1600-h/IMG_0318.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Sue5gqxjPHI/AAAAAAAA2Yk/nuJ0cbpJBmY/s320/IMG_0318.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397486649315900530" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now that I see how tight those pants are on my badonkadonk, they will never grace the Y ever again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sissy's birthday trip to Toys R Us:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/SufAb1yNyWI/AAAAAAAA2Z8/_e4cSjN_1GM/s1600-h/IMG_0382.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/SufAb1yNyWI/AAAAAAAA2Z8/_e4cSjN_1GM/s320/IMG_0382.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397494262953527650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Texas babies know exactly what to do with their chips:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Sue7qVt90AI/AAAAAAAA2Zc/xj6JxQSiYZw/s1600-h/IMG_0449.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Sue7qVt90AI/AAAAAAAA2Zc/xj6JxQSiYZw/s320/IMG_0449.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397489014485667842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The beautiful and precious friends of our supper club, at Cafe Express, plus Mrs. K.&lt;br /&gt;We're getting C out of the house, as her daddy's quick death from cancer was the heartbreak of our summer:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Sue8juy8VmI/AAAAAAAA2Zk/b6Xt1uGaf0Y/s1600-h/IMG_0408.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Sue8juy8VmI/AAAAAAAA2Zk/b6Xt1uGaf0Y/s320/IMG_0408.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397490000469972578" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We call it the Who's Pregnant Supper Club, because between us we have spawned 17 babies, so far (and C's due date is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;tomorrow!&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sissy looking extra cute on the way to church:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Sue8j89EpQI/AAAAAAAA2Zs/B8nuZQML1B0/s1600-h/IMG_0476.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Sue8j89EpQI/AAAAAAAA2Zs/B8nuZQML1B0/s320/IMG_0476.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397490004270556418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A gorgeous day in &lt;a href="http://notabowinsight.blogspot.com/"&gt;Beth&lt;/a&gt;'s backyard:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Sue7pvH762I/AAAAAAAA2ZE/6PuE_7oODIU/s1600-h/IMG_0473.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Sue7pvH762I/AAAAAAAA2ZE/6PuE_7oODIU/s320/IMG_0473.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5397489004125612898" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;which is a sure sign that summer has officially ended.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1455244974087269178-7248868403670722343?l=itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/ElTI/~4/kDPiP4HxTSE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/feeds/7248868403670722343/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1455244974087269178&amp;postID=7248868403670722343&amp;isPopup=true" title="12 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1455244974087269178/posts/default/7248868403670722343?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1455244974087269178/posts/default/7248868403670722343?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/ElTI/~3/kDPiP4HxTSE/tonight-i-uploaded-all-photos-from-my.html" title="" /><author><name>Missy @ It's Almost Naptime</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11264845015930907294</uri><email>itsalmostnaptime@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="00395478587850420860" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Sue7qG3FRlI/AAAAAAAA2ZU/2gxhGmqsnWs/s72-c/IMG_0375.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">12</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/2009/10/tonight-i-uploaded-all-photos-from-my.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CE8DR3g-fCp7ImA9WxNVFU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1455244974087269178.post-1082516592854036180</id><published>2009-10-25T23:10:00.010-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-25T23:54:36.654-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-25T23:54:36.654-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="missy-laneous" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Missy loves her some books" /><title>Just imagine what they could have done with a little Final Net</title><content type="html">&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/SuUqEJoFcTI/AAAAAAAA2I8/-zM5h3UeQFo/s1600-h/DE002723.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 184px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/SuUqEJoFcTI/AAAAAAAA2I8/-zM5h3UeQFo/s320/DE002723.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396765979265298738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a book called &lt;a href="http://astore.amazon.com/itsalmnap-20/detail/0785214240"&gt;Exploring the New Testament World&lt;/a&gt; by Albert A Bell, which is one of my favorites in our little library. So much of the bible can be better understood when put in the proper cultural context.  This book does a fascinating job explaining the difference between Pharisees and Sadducees and Zealots, and just how the Romans governed Judea, and  what Jesus would have eaten for breakfast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And how Mary Magdalene might have worn her hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which we all know is just as crucial as understanding the benefits of Roman citizenship. And perhaps holier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other night I came across some paragraphs regarding the very important aforementioned topic. Did you know that when wealthy women had busts of themselves carved and displayed in their homes, they had detachable marble wigs that could be updated as the styles changed?  Because she wouldn't want her friends saying, "Oh my Zeus, Flavia's statue's updo was &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;so.&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;BC&lt;/span&gt;. Girl needs to get in the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;millennium&lt;/span&gt;."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Listen to this from Mr. Bell:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"&gt;The Romans' attention to grooming began early in the morning. Women devoted great care to arranging their hair in the latest style. Aristocratic women had slaves who specialized as hairdressers....References in the &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Talmud"&gt;Talmud&lt;/a&gt; indicate that this fashion was followed in Judea. Jewish women wore such elaborate hairstyles, involving braids and hairpieces, that according to the Encyclopedia Judaica, "it was forbidden to undo a women's hairdo on the Sabbath because &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;it involved the transgressions of 'building' and 'demolishing.'"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HA! So much for Texas big hair!! From now on, we'll call it Ancient Jewish Big Hair. Or Early Christian Big Hair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Which confirms what a lot of y'all already knew: the higher the hair, the closer to Heaven.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1455244974087269178-1082516592854036180?l=itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/ElTI/~4/RAkKPtkHrG4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/feeds/1082516592854036180/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1455244974087269178&amp;postID=1082516592854036180&amp;isPopup=true" title="17 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1455244974087269178/posts/default/1082516592854036180?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1455244974087269178/posts/default/1082516592854036180?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/ElTI/~3/RAkKPtkHrG4/just-imagine-what-they-could-have-done.html" title="Just imagine what they could have done with a little Final Net" /><author><name>Missy @ It's Almost Naptime</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11264845015930907294</uri><email>itsalmostnaptime@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="00395478587850420860" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/SuUqEJoFcTI/AAAAAAAA2I8/-zM5h3UeQFo/s72-c/DE002723.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">17</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/2009/10/just-imagine-what-they-could-have-done.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DE4CSH86eCp7ImA9WxNVE00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1455244974087269178.post-433995002556264743</id><published>2009-10-22T23:53:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-23T09:09:29.110-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-23T09:09:29.110-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Friday Faves" /><title>Friday Faves - Favorite online/Etsy shop</title><content type="html">&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i601.photobucket.com/albums/tt94/memoriesbydesign/FridayFavesButton-1.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;div style="border: 2px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); overflow: auto; width: 125px; height: 55px;"&gt;&amp;lt;center&amp;gt;&amp;lt;a href="http://www.itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/"&amp;gt;&amp;lt;img src="http://i601.photobucket.com/albums/tt94/memoriesbydesign/FridayFavesButton-1.png"/&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/center&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/td&amp;gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am alive, y'all. I have just been on a little unplanned bloggy break. Partly because Walker was out of town all last week and oh my word, it takes me about a week to recover from that. Partly because I got all the adoption paperwork from Gladney and I have vacillating from being lulled to sleep by the endless drone from the printer to having a heart attack over the task before me. And partly because I just haven't had much to say, believe it or not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, now, Friday Faves: Your favorite place to spend your money on the internet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need y'all's help on this one. The majority of my online purchases are  books from Amazon.com. Whoopdedoo, Amazon.com.  I just don't shop too much online. Mainly I guess because I am a touchy-feely shopper. I need to caress before I can commit. (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;That's what she said&lt;/span&gt;.) (Sorry, too much &lt;a href="http://kevinliebl.files.wordpress.com/2009/05/0000007501_20060920143802.jpg"&gt;Michael Scott.&lt;/a&gt;) (giggle.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So help cool me up. Who's irresistible? From where can the best Christmas shopping be done via the comfort of your own butt? If you have your own online store, here's your chance to toot your own cyberhorn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Next week's Friday Faves: Favorite candy!! Yum.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript" src="http://www2.blenza.com/linkies/autolink.php?owner=missydoll&amp;amp;postid=23Oct2009&amp;amp;meme=3367"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1455244974087269178-433995002556264743?l=itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/ElTI/~4/7-n6hHkEB00" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/feeds/433995002556264743/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1455244974087269178&amp;postID=433995002556264743&amp;isPopup=true" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1455244974087269178/posts/default/433995002556264743?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1455244974087269178/posts/default/433995002556264743?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/ElTI/~3/7-n6hHkEB00/friday-faves-favorite-onlineetsy-shop.html" title="Friday Faves - Favorite online/Etsy shop" /><author><name>Missy @ It's Almost Naptime</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11264845015930907294</uri><email>itsalmostnaptime@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="00395478587850420860" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">5</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/2009/10/friday-faves-favorite-onlineetsy-shop.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkEMQX8-fCp7ImA9WxNWGUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1455244974087269178.post-8202187064160271633</id><published>2009-10-19T13:58:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-19T13:58:00.154-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-19T13:58:00.154-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Maggie" /><title>Boots!</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Hey ebybody. Wook what I got!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/StvPxIxIxcI/AAAAAAAA1y8/B_n4NPs3orU/s1600-h/DSC07065.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/StvPxIxIxcI/AAAAAAAA1y8/B_n4NPs3orU/s320/DSC07065.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394133421780420034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;BOOTS!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He-ah's one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/StvPxpjGHaI/AAAAAAAA1zE/H5aDjxdeREA/s1600-h/DSC07067.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 219px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/StvPxpjGHaI/AAAAAAAA1zE/H5aDjxdeREA/s320/DSC07067.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394133430579895714" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He-ah's anodder. Dis one my fabit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/StvPypNPxGI/AAAAAAAA1zU/uQbs4un3ZII/s1600-h/DSC07066.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 181px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/StvPypNPxGI/AAAAAAAA1zU/uQbs4un3ZII/s320/DSC07066.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394133447668122722" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My boots can JUMP!&lt;br /&gt;HOP! HOP! HOP!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/StvMcjOmWnI/AAAAAAAA1xQ/xNjlQXHzuug/s1600-h/DSC07064.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/StvMcjOmWnI/AAAAAAAA1xQ/xNjlQXHzuug/s320/DSC07064.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394129769571179122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You wike my boots?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/StvPyP_jMVI/AAAAAAAA1zM/hUwPaG34mZo/s1600-h/DSC07068.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 161px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/StvPyP_jMVI/AAAAAAAA1zM/hUwPaG34mZo/s320/DSC07068.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5394133440899789138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1455244974087269178-8202187064160271633?l=itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/ElTI/~4/feE_cSUnvTA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/feeds/8202187064160271633/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1455244974087269178&amp;postID=8202187064160271633&amp;isPopup=true" title="17 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1455244974087269178/posts/default/8202187064160271633?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1455244974087269178/posts/default/8202187064160271633?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/ElTI/~3/feE_cSUnvTA/boots.html" title="Boots!" /><author><name>Missy @ It's Almost Naptime</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11264845015930907294</uri><email>itsalmostnaptime@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="00395478587850420860" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/StvPxIxIxcI/AAAAAAAA1y8/B_n4NPs3orU/s72-c/DSC07065.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">17</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/2009/10/boots.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkAGRX49fSp7ImA9WxNWF0Q.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1455244974087269178.post-7598253398996216566</id><published>2009-10-16T07:25:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-17T10:52:04.065-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-17T10:52:04.065-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Friday Faves" /><title>Friday/Saturday/Maybe Monday Faves - Favorite Kids' TV shows</title><content type="html">&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i601.photobucket.com/albums/tt94/memoriesbydesign/FridayFavesButton-1.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;div style="border: 2px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); overflow: auto; width: 125px; height: 55px;"&gt;&amp;lt;center&amp;gt;&amp;lt;a href="http://www.itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/"&amp;gt;&amp;lt;img src="http://i601.photobucket.com/albums/tt94/memoriesbydesign/FridayFavesButton-1.png"/&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/center&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/td&amp;gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back when I wasn't going to let my kids play with Barbie dolls or guns, I also wasn't going to let them watch TV. Pardon me a minute...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay, I'm back off the floor and the giggling has subsided.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Along with a wonderful husband, Mothers Day Out, and my mommy, TV has &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;saved me&lt;/span&gt; during these past few years. I could not have gotten through being pregnant over and over and over with toddlers and infants in my care without the beauty that is children's TV. And I ain't too proud to admit it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fortunately, in this glorious age of DVRs and On Demand, there is much high quality TV to choose from. Back in the olden days, with the exception of Saturday cartoons, we got Sesame Street and Mr. Rogers in the morning, and Electric Company in the afternoon, with little but banned soap operas in between. Sunday night came The Wonderful World of Disney, sandwiched between Wild Kingdom and Sixty Minutes. And - get this - you had to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;be there&lt;/span&gt; when they came on or you just &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;missed them.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is so much good stuff out there now for kids. PBS especially has come out with some phenomenal new shows in the past couple of years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some Naptime favorites:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Max and Ruby....RUBY and her LITTLE BROTHER MAX (do do do do do)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/SsX9MAHqG6I/AAAAAAAAztY/7J_87cZJdHI/s1600-h/hkBWjX0Wu1AVDER.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 200px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/SsX9MAHqG6I/AAAAAAAAztY/7J_87cZJdHI/s320/hkBWjX0Wu1AVDER.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5387990911851043746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all heart Max and Ruby. Shepherd claims it is for babies but even he will still stop building Lego bombs when he hears that theme song. Max and Ruby wins the longevity award hands down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Max and Ruby are bunnies, and the plot lines are sweet and innocent. No monitoring required. This show could have been written in the 1940s, and I love that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Poor Max and Ruby are among the millions of fairy tale orphans. No parents in sight - they are not even mentioned. Grandma does come to visit frequently, but soon leaves them to their unsupervised selves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This might inspire you to call CPS, but listen. Ruby manages to keep three year old Max fed and bathed and mostly out of mischief and the house clean, all  while getting her Bunny Scout cookies sold. And if that weren't enough, Baby Huffington's momma is constantly dumping him on her as well. As is Baby Shep, Baby Maggie, Baby Eva Rose and Baby Ike's momma.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At age eight, she's a far better woman than I am. Ruby is my &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;hero. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/SsYMzj6J6hI/AAAAAAAAztg/Nv4bE9pmNJU/s1600-h/Scooby-Doo-tv-02.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 177px; height: 167px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/SsYMzj6J6hI/AAAAAAAAztg/Nv4bE9pmNJU/s320/Scooby-Doo-tv-02.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388008084147399186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shepherd's favorite hands to the down. I have mixed feelings about the show, and not just because of the &lt;a href="http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/2009/04/those-meddling-kids.html"&gt;childhood trauma&lt;/a&gt; of always being cast as Thelma instead of Daphne. Maggie can't watch it at all - it is far too sca-wy for her. And hey Shaggy - we all know why you have the munchies, okay? Scooby is, however, a rock star, so it must make the list, my misgivings and all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Cailliou.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/SsYM0N6gSSI/AAAAAAAAzto/E5CDkQRGrSs/s1600-h/calliou-220x300.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 131px; height: 188px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/SsYM0N6gSSI/AAAAAAAAzto/E5CDkQRGrSs/s320/calliou-220x300.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388008095423154466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Calliou,  a little French Canadian kid with alopecia, is jumping for joy because he's back in the Naptime household after a two year moratorium due to the whining and baby talk he induced in our home. Calliou is pretty annoying and his mother is certainly tripling her prescription of Prozac. Seriously, the child could and perhaps someday will burn the house down, and she'd find a way to praise him for it. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Oh, Calliou, good job not splashing the gasoline!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why do we watch? Because Calliou is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;hypnotic&lt;/span&gt;. For twenty-eight minutes my children are riveted, motionless. And twenty-eight minutes is just about the the time it takes me to make a phone call or catch a power nap on the couch...or compose a blog post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Greatest Heroes and Legends of the Bible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, what a complicated relationship I have with TBN. While I think so many of their people should be burned as heretics for the abomination they promote called  the prosperity gospel, some of TBN's good shows are really really good. This is one of them. My kids love it and the bible stories stick with them. As do the songs by  the "aspirating woman/male" (Walker's description) like &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mvJxmoN8d8s"&gt;the one&lt;/a&gt; about Judas. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Oh Judas you sold Jesus out...you're a backstabbing sneaky twofaced crook...&lt;/span&gt; See? Catchy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have just discovered the Smile channel, which is Christian shows for kids. So far we like Sarah's Stories, Bibleman, and a couple others.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Others we love:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ul&gt;&lt;li&gt;Word Girl - Word Up, Word Girl is fabulous&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Curious George - classic&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Sid the Science Kid - especially the My Mom is Cool song, um &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;yeah.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Backyardigans - I wish my kids liked this show as much as I do. And I wish I had named Maggie "Uniqua."&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Martha Speaks&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Dinosaur Train - new on PBS and great&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Olivia&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Sarah's Stories&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ul&gt;For the itty bitties, Barney and Blues Clues and of course, The Wiggles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shep is just starting to get into real TV. He loves How It's Made, and much to my delight, What the Victorians/Tudors/Stuarts Did for Us. Any other suggestions?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Next Week Friday Faves:&lt;/span&gt;Favorite Online Store /Etsy (uh oh, that should be good. And just in time to give a shout out to some friends before Christmas.) To see all upcoming Friday Faves, click &lt;a href="http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/2009/08/friday-faves.html"&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript" src="http://www2.blenza.com/linkies/autolink.php?owner=missydoll&amp;amp;postid=17Oct2009&amp;amp;meme=3367"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1455244974087269178-7598253398996216566?l=itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/ElTI/~4/5QcNp7CVAEE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/feeds/7598253398996216566/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1455244974087269178&amp;postID=7598253398996216566&amp;isPopup=true" title="20 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1455244974087269178/posts/default/7598253398996216566?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1455244974087269178/posts/default/7598253398996216566?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/ElTI/~3/5QcNp7CVAEE/fridaysaturdaymaybe-monday-faves.html" title="Friday/Saturday/Maybe Monday Faves - Favorite Kids' TV shows" /><author><name>Missy @ It's Almost Naptime</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11264845015930907294</uri><email>itsalmostnaptime@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="00395478587850420860" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/SsX9MAHqG6I/AAAAAAAAztY/7J_87cZJdHI/s72-c/hkBWjX0Wu1AVDER.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">20</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/2009/10/fridaysaturdaymaybe-monday-faves.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CEUMRnY6fCp7ImA9WxNWFUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1455244974087269178.post-1513172031521842836</id><published>2009-10-14T22:14:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-14T23:51:27.814-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-14T23:51:27.814-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="link love" /><title>Wednesday link love</title><content type="html">One of my favorite bloggers Megan and her sweet self has come up with a way to bless a family in need - just the cost of a Pumpkin Latte will make a difference. &lt;a href="http://sortacrunchy.typepad.com/sortacrunchy/2009/10/ready-set-go-bless-the-vega-family.html#comment-6a00e54fb985aa88330120a5e7b8c2970b"&gt;Please go here. &lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been raining all day. Thankful for &lt;a href="http://princesscoloringpages.blogspot.com/search/label/PRINCESS"&gt;this website&lt;/a&gt;, has been keeping my little girls occupied making their own coloring books.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.sandiegozoo.org/pandacam/index.html"&gt;The San Diego Zoo Pandacam&lt;/a&gt; - who knew you could spend so long staring at a baby panda sleep?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love Barbara's list of &lt;a href="http://mommylife.net/archives/2009/06/classic_movies.html"&gt;classic movies for boys&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the website of a guy that Walker went to high school with in Japan. Look at his &lt;a href="http://www.jonmozo.com/gallery/wa_hisworld.html"&gt;wave photos&lt;/a&gt; - &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;wow. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;God is so amazing. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;And lastly, this. Be blessed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/FmUGekcTuLM&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;"&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/FmUGekcTuLM&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=1&amp;amp;" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1455244974087269178-1513172031521842836?l=itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/ElTI/~4/QlTZvoXpPRE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/feeds/1513172031521842836/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1455244974087269178&amp;postID=1513172031521842836&amp;isPopup=true" title="4 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1455244974087269178/posts/default/1513172031521842836?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1455244974087269178/posts/default/1513172031521842836?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/ElTI/~3/QlTZvoXpPRE/wednesday-link-love.html" title="Wednesday link love" /><author><name>Missy @ It's Almost Naptime</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11264845015930907294</uri><email>itsalmostnaptime@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="00395478587850420860" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">4</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/2009/10/wednesday-link-love.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0cDQXo5eSp7ImA9WxNWFEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1455244974087269178.post-8317872455920408843</id><published>2009-10-12T22:28:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-13T23:37:50.421-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-13T23:37:50.421-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Missy's a little neurotic" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Missy loves her some books" /><title>The Missy/Pissy Project</title><content type="html">Apologies for the Schedule IV in the title.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Several weeks ago, my girlfriends and I all went to see the movie "Julie &amp;amp; Julia" together. You've probably seen it, because most people with ovaries in this country have. If you haven't, you should. Absolutely precious movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You wanna know why it was so precious? Because the Julie character was a complete fabrication.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You wanna know how I know this to be so? Because for the past week or so I have been reading the book that the movie was based on, The Julie/Julia Project, written by the Julie of the title. And y'all. Sweet, winsome, adorable Amy Adams she ain't. You bet your boeuf bourguignon she ain't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Real life Julie - well. Um. Whiney. Kinda boring. Drops a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;whole&lt;/span&gt; lot of Schedule Is, IIs, IIIs, IVs and Vs. Works in any opportunity to declare all Republicans inherently evil, and is royally on my nerves. It's abundantly clear to me why Julia had no desire to meet her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why can't I put this wretched book down?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had this same issue a few months ago with Bret Lott's &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;A Stranger's House&lt;/span&gt;. Bret Lott is a great writer and the story was kind of interesting but I really hated the main character. For some of the same reasons I am not enthralled with Julie, come to think of it. I hated the book all the way to page 256. Then I told my mom how much I hated it. She borrowed it, hated it all the way through, and when she was done we had a little chat about how much we hated it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a sickness, I tell you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am not the type to commit to any project. My home is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;full&lt;/span&gt; of my fabulous ideas that puttered out. I am halfway through a cross stitched quilt that I began when I first learned I was pregnant - in 2002.  It shares a box with a incomplete cross stitch of Mary and Baby Jesus that I started in college. My little office under the stairs contains no less than three wreaths that were abandoned midcircle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My wedding scrapbook is not quite finished.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And please don't even ask about the baby books.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So why do I develop such a pesky case of sticktoittiveness when it comes to a book, even a book I deplore??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have about fifty pages left. Here's hoping I finish up tonight so I can be put out of my misery. My neurotic, voluntary, self-induced misery.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1455244974087269178-8317872455920408843?l=itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/ElTI/~4/BVMZ8Qm6P50" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/feeds/8317872455920408843/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1455244974087269178&amp;postID=8317872455920408843&amp;isPopup=true" title="12 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1455244974087269178/posts/default/8317872455920408843?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1455244974087269178/posts/default/8317872455920408843?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/ElTI/~3/BVMZ8Qm6P50/missypissy-project.html" title="The Missy/Pissy Project" /><author><name>Missy @ It's Almost Naptime</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11264845015930907294</uri><email>itsalmostnaptime@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="00395478587850420860" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">12</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/2009/10/missypissy-project.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUMGQX85cSp7ImA9WxNVGUg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1455244974087269178.post-9124905305434040336</id><published>2009-10-11T20:10:00.009-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-30T21:50:20.129-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-30T21:50:20.129-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="missy-laneous" /><title>Cussin</title><content type="html">Today I was in a conversation where one of the conversers mentioned the word Friggin. And another pointed out that Friggin, fricken, freaking, etc, is really code for that other word, and as followers of Christ, we shouldn't use any of those words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it's true. Sadly, I know it is true. I say sadly because I love to use the word freakin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm a word girl (word up!) I love words, I love new words, I love the etymology of words. One of my favorite classes in college was The History of the English Language, and I am rather proud that I can still recite the beginning of The Canterbury Tales in Middle English, which is almost a foreign language. If I were to win the lottery, one of the first things I would buy would be a big ole &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Oxford-English-Dictionary-Vols-1-20/dp/0198611862/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&amp;amp;s=books&amp;amp;qid=1255310518&amp;amp;sr=8-1"&gt;Oxford English Dictionary&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being that I love words, all words, I love local vernacular and I love slang. And I even love me some cuss words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To me, there are levels of cuss words: Schedule I: the ones that I have &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;never &lt;/span&gt;said, either because they are so foul or blasphemous; Schedule II: the bad ones; and Schedule III: the ones that you don't allow your kids to say, but sometimes you can, especially if you are referring to a donkey or the opposite of Heaven. Schedule IV are the ones which are the ones that aren't really bad, just tacky. You know, butt, fart - all the ones Shepherd loves at the moment. Schedule V are words that "someone" has determined to be bad, namely, "stupid." Which is stupid. But &lt;a href="http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/2009/02/on-cursing-or-not.html"&gt;I've already discussed that&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, no, I normally don't cuss, for three reasons. Number one, I think it is plain tacky and disrespectful. Even in my wild UT days, if a boy cussed in front of me on a first date, he would not get a second. Number two, I have these kids that I try and behave in front of. And then there's number three: because I love Jesus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are several verses, namely &lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=eph%204:29&amp;amp;version=NIV"&gt;Ephesians 4:29&lt;/a&gt;, that exhort that we simply aren't to talk like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I tell you what (verily verily I say unto you), sometimes, like when I trench my own yard &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;again&lt;/span&gt; or when I splash bleach on a favorite shirt, or even when I need to let my husband know that my anger is not pretend at the moment but very very real, it just feels very good to let one of those Schedule II's fly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not proud, y'all, I'm just honest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those times are fortunately rare. What is much more prevalent in daily life is the use of the substitutionary cuss words. Like friggin. We know what it means, and &lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=matt%2012:34&amp;amp;version=NIV"&gt;out of the overflow of the heart the mouth speaks, &lt;/a&gt;right? If our heart is saying the real F word, when we use a weenie version, we aren't fooling anybody.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even our kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of our "innocent" cuss words are easy to trace back to their blasphemous origins. A favorite of mine happens to be Jeez Louise. But Jeez is just short for Jesus. Dadgumit? Rearrange some syllables and consonants and it's a Schedule I.  Same with Gosh dangit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I hear someone swear &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Oh my God&lt;/span&gt;, I cringe. But what about Oh my gosh? Oh my goodness? Oh my heavens? Oh for Pete's sake? Let's be honest, all are euphemisms for God or his home or his disciple at the gate. The meaning is the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even the ones I do say in front of my kids: heck, darn, dern, dang, shoot, shikeys, holy guacamole - the mouth says Schedule IV, the heart says Schedule II.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then there's my favorite, the most innocuous sounding one of all: Oh my word. What does that mean? I think it probably means Oh my {insert cuss word here}.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My grandma used to be friends with a lady named Jean Petty, which I thought was the most beautiful name ever. I remember her sitting at my grandma's table over dominoes, saying "Well I declare" in response to my grandma's stories. Except when Miss Jean said it, it sounded like "Well I. De. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Clare&lt;/span&gt;."   Is "I declare" okay, or is it the toned down version for &lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Matthew%205:34-37&amp;amp;version=NIV"&gt;swearing&lt;/a&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is it just as big a sin to say the real curse word as it is to say the weenie one?&lt;br /&gt;Or are some obviously not okay (freakin) while some truly are innocent (oh my word)?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what would one insert? How is "Oh my word" more toxic than "Wow" or "No way" or "Get outta town" or "Ooo chile"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y'all, I don't know. I just don't know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If it is, it presents a very big problem for me, a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Texan&lt;/span&gt; girl who is very &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;expressive&lt;/span&gt; and known to be &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;dramatic&lt;/span&gt; who&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; loves words&lt;/span&gt; and who&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; talks a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span&gt;For the love of Pete, what in tarnation am I supposed to do??&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1455244974087269178-9124905305434040336?l=itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/ElTI/~4/4b4IEBo5NH8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/feeds/9124905305434040336/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1455244974087269178&amp;postID=9124905305434040336&amp;isPopup=true" title="37 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1455244974087269178/posts/default/9124905305434040336?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1455244974087269178/posts/default/9124905305434040336?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/ElTI/~3/4b4IEBo5NH8/cussin.html" title="Cussin" /><author><name>Missy @ It's Almost Naptime</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11264845015930907294</uri><email>itsalmostnaptime@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="00395478587850420860" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">37</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/2009/10/cussin.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUYMQ3cyeCp7ImA9WxNWEEs.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1455244974087269178.post-876318724056161172</id><published>2009-10-08T22:06:00.011-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T00:46:22.990-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-09T00:46:22.990-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Friday Faves" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="reality TV addicts anonymous" /><title>Friday Faves - Favorite TV shows</title><content type="html">&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i601.photobucket.com/albums/tt94/memoriesbydesign/FridayFavesButton-1.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;div style="border: 2px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); overflow: auto; width: 125px; height: 55px;"&gt;&amp;amp;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;lt&lt;/span&gt;;center&amp;gt;&amp;amp;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;lt&lt;/span&gt;;a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;href&lt;/span&gt;="http://www.itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/"&amp;gt;&amp;amp;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;lt&lt;/span&gt;;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;img&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;src&lt;/span&gt;="http://i601.photobucket.com/albums/tt94/memoriesbydesign/FridayFavesButton-1.png"/&amp;gt;&amp;amp;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;lt&lt;/span&gt;;/a&amp;gt;&amp;amp;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;lt&lt;/span&gt;;/center&amp;gt;&amp;amp;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;lt&lt;/span&gt;;/&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;td&lt;/span&gt;&amp;gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh help me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How much time do you have?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because I heart me some television.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know it is not an admired virtue. I get wide-eyed and more than a little insecure when I come across women who say, "Oh, we don't have a TV in our home."  I nod and mumble, "Oh, good for &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;you&lt;/span&gt;" while my children pull on my skirt with panicked and confused looks on their faces. I swat them and shush them, but there is a woman inside my brain whose hair just stood on end as she shouted WHAT?? NO TV?? HOW DO THEY LIVE?? and I have to tell her to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;shhhhhh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; too so I can hear the TV-free woman proceed to tell me about the fabulous crop of organic strawberries she picked from her backyard that made some heavenly jam which she then delivered to a homeless shelter which counted as a social studies lesson for her eleven &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;homeschooled&lt;/span&gt; children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love that woman, I admire that woman, parts of me want to be that woman. But as that woman heads off to teach her Christian power yoga class, when I shout, "&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NsoS-RUEbqU"&gt;Don't be tardy for the party!&lt;/a&gt;" and she laughs uncomfortably, and then I know, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;heh&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;heh&lt;/span&gt;, that I've won the Coolness Contest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;TV makes you cool. There, I said it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I am So. Cool.&lt;br /&gt;Y'all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'll cling to that delusion until they pry my remote control out of my cold dead fingers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, where to begin. My favorites. Starting with the reality shows:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Judge Judy.&lt;/span&gt; Oh, sweet Judge Judy. My first reality addiction, after losing dear Judge &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Wopner&lt;/span&gt;. I admit it is an odd addiction. But a deep one. And a very educational one - I have a post brewing on all I have learned from years of Judge Judy. I've learned a &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;lot&lt;/span&gt;. Whew, law have mercy, have I learned a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Project Runway:&lt;/span&gt; absolutely one of the best shows on TV. So many people I know don't watch this show, and I just can't fathom why. It's like denying yourself a great book. It is probably my husband's favorite show - yes, my &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;husband. &lt;/span&gt;My 70-something &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;mom&lt;/span&gt; watches Project Runway. (how'd you think I got so cool?)  I wish Tim &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Gunn&lt;/span&gt; were my grandpa. Even though that's, um, highly improbable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Top Chef.&lt;/span&gt; Again, so many of my friends love cooking, but don't watch Top Chef. Don't be put off by the tattoos or the bleeps (I've worked in the food industry - chefs cuss like &lt;span style="text-decoration: line-through;"&gt;sailors&lt;/span&gt; chefs.) What those people can do in thirty minutes with three words from a shot machine never ceases to amaze us. Winner prediction: keep your eye on the gorgeous brooding guy, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;as usual.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;4. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;SuperNanny&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;. I love the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;SuperNanny&lt;/span&gt;, and so do my kids, and I love to say, "If I didn't discipline you, that is &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;exactly&lt;/span&gt; how &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;you&lt;/span&gt; would behave. Say 'thank you Mommy'." For the most part, I agree with her discipline tactics. Mostly I agree with the fact that she tells children &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; parents that their behavior is unacceptable. I don't think enough of that goes on these days. Preach on, Jojo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Real Housewives.&lt;/span&gt; Okay, I know, it's awful, I know. I know, okay? I know. Educational TV. Truly. Talk about some women who need some Jojo. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Don't be tardy for the party (whoa oh oh whoa oh oh)&lt;/span&gt; (by the way, I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;really&lt;/span&gt; like &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;Kandi&lt;/span&gt;. I could hang with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;Kandi&lt;/span&gt;. So nice to have a normal chick on there.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;6. Flipping Out. &lt;/span&gt;I love Jeff Lewis. I can't explain it...I just accept it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Non-reality:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before y'all get all on me for Real Housewives (whoa oh oh whoa oh oh) just know that I do now not nor have I ever watched an episode of Grey's Anatomy or Desperate Housewives. And Sex in the City? I tried. It literally&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;made me nauseous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My point is, we all have our television weaknesses :)&lt;br /&gt;Except for Organic Strawberry Jam lady. She has no television weaknesses, because, you know, she has no TV. Good for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;1. The Office&lt;/span&gt;. Of course. We go way back with The Office - Walker loved the British version and was so excited when it was announced there would be an American version. Yes, he was the &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NN50ZU6jVwM&amp;amp;feature=PlayList&amp;amp;p=903D930B88FC9756&amp;amp;playnext=1&amp;amp;playnext_from=PL&amp;amp;index=66"&gt;Barbara &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;Mandrell&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; of The Office. If you have not gotten into it, please let us convert you by loaning you our DVDs of Season 1, as we have done with so many former naysayers. Watch three of them, and you will be hooked. The Office brings us so much joy. And Walker frequently gets told that he reminds people of Michael, and I never quite know how to take that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Big Love&lt;/span&gt;. Oh, we have big love for Big Love. So well written, well acted, feeds our Mormon fascination - what's not to love big? And always leads to interesting conversations regarding the pros and cons of bringing some sister wives into the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;Naptime&lt;/span&gt; household. Plus we love the &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g_tdyISAylE"&gt;opening&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, gee, that's about it for the non-reality. Huh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A word about &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Mad Men&lt;/span&gt; - I can't say I love it because I am not caught up. I will, I promise, I will. I do love the clothes. For Walker's birthday last month we had a Mad Men party. I wore &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;pantyhose&lt;/span&gt; for the first time since my &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;wedding&lt;/span&gt;. That's how devoted I am to someday becoming devoted to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Ss64_z3R4SI/AAAAAAAA05w/KI7wOLars6Y/s1600-h/DSC06836.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Ss64_z3R4SI/AAAAAAAA05w/KI7wOLars6Y/s320/DSC06836.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5390449210402398498" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yes, I borrowed that hair bow from my daughter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My all time favorite show:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;1. Drive &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;Thru&lt;/span&gt; History&lt;/span&gt;,  on History Channel International and sometimes in the middle of the night on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;TBN&lt;/span&gt;. This is a wonderful show starring Dave &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_24"&gt;Stotts&lt;/span&gt; that looks at history without censoring the Christian influence. It started out as a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_25"&gt;homeschool&lt;/span&gt; curriculum, but then Focus on the Family picked it up and History Channel started showing it. Season 3, The Holy Lands, is in the works. It's funny and informative and well written. Really, really well written, &lt;a href="http://vimeo.com/3990645"&gt;especially the American ones&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm not just saying that because the writer of Season 2 is really hot and snoring in my bed right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_26"&gt;Okey&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_27"&gt;dokey&lt;/span&gt;, your turn. Fess up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Next week - favorite kids' TV shows. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;script type="text/javascript" src="http://www2.blenza.com/linkies/autolink.php?owner=missydoll&amp;amp;postid=09Oct2009&amp;amp;meme=3367"&gt;&lt;/script&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1455244974087269178-876318724056161172?l=itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/ElTI/~4/RBLT0G0Cq1Q" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/feeds/876318724056161172/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1455244974087269178&amp;postID=876318724056161172&amp;isPopup=true" title="27 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1455244974087269178/posts/default/876318724056161172?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1455244974087269178/posts/default/876318724056161172?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/ElTI/~3/RBLT0G0Cq1Q/friday-faves-favorite-tv-shows.html" title="Friday Faves - Favorite TV shows" /><author><name>Missy @ It's Almost Naptime</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11264845015930907294</uri><email>itsalmostnaptime@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="00395478587850420860" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/Ss64_z3R4SI/AAAAAAAA05w/KI7wOLars6Y/s72-c/DSC06836.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">27</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/2009/10/friday-faves-favorite-tv-shows.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DU8GQ3szeCp7ImA9WxNXGEU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1455244974087269178.post-5806729501339553864</id><published>2009-10-06T21:15:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-06T22:57:02.580-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-06T22:57:02.580-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Eva Rose" /><title>Help us Lord.</title><content type="html">Today Eva Rose was pushing her dolly around her baby carriage. The doll was wrapped tightly in a blanket. I watched as she carefully placed another blanket over the entire basket, as if to keep out the sun or the mosquitoes, or the swine flu germs. She looked so precious. Images of her future danced through my brain and my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I smiled adoringly at my sweet girl. "You are &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;such&lt;/span&gt; a good mommy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She looked at me with an odd, slightly menacing little grin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm not pretending to be a mommy. I'm pretending to be a baby stealer!"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1455244974087269178-5806729501339553864?l=itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/ElTI/~4/ll8hr25TTCA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/feeds/5806729501339553864/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1455244974087269178&amp;postID=5806729501339553864&amp;isPopup=true" title="32 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1455244974087269178/posts/default/5806729501339553864?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1455244974087269178/posts/default/5806729501339553864?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/ElTI/~3/ll8hr25TTCA/help-us-lord.html" title="Help us Lord." /><author><name>Missy @ It's Almost Naptime</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11264845015930907294</uri><email>itsalmostnaptime@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="00395478587850420860" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">32</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/2009/10/help-us-lord.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEAMQXw5eCp7ImA9WxNXF0U.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1455244974087269178.post-4017710877919491644</id><published>2009-10-05T17:21:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-05T18:53:00.220-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-05T18:53:00.220-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Shepherd" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Proverbs 32 Woman" /><title /><content type="html">Dear TF,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before we get started, I just want to ask if you are well? Perhaps you have the swine flu. If so, can I leave some chicken soup out for you tonight?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or perhaps the recession has hit you too. If you are having trouble coming up with the money, we can help. Things are tough all over. We're struggling like everyone else, but we could cover you, just this once. You don't have to be embarrassed. Just ask.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe you, like so many, have had to reduce your workforce. Are you short staffed? Was there a big layoff recently at TF Inc?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe there was some other misunderstanding. Perhaps Shepherd wasn't clear enough about what he wanted from you. One might think that this would be very clear:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/SsqEYu7wOqI/AAAAAAAA04Y/DW0PZjCYW94/s1600-h/DSC07036.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/SsqEYu7wOqI/AAAAAAAA04Y/DW0PZjCYW94/s320/DSC07036.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389265464552602274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what with the written word &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; the visual aid drawing of a dollar bill, with the little pyramids and all. Perhaps not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am assuming that one of these scenarios has befallen you. I refuse to believe that you simply &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;forgot&lt;/span&gt; to visit Shepherd's room last night and leave him some money in exchange for his tooth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, as gracious as I am trying to be, I must remind you, Fairy, that this is not the first time this happened. You forgot last time too. Then, I went back upstairs while he ate breakfast and pretended that it had just gotten lost in the sheets, and came back down with his reward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You still owe me a dollar, by the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I am letting you know right now, I am getting fed up with covering your sparkly little behind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what the problem is. I thought that with Obama in the White House, these type of things wouldn't happen anymore?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And listen, Fairy, your job here in our home has just begun. You'll be making at least 96 more visits to our home over the next few years. Two words for you, Sparkles: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;step up.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have informed Shepherd that each time he loses a tooth, I am going to email you a reminder. I have asked him to remind me to email you many, many times during the day. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Repeatedly&lt;/span&gt; I have told him to remind me that you are due to come. Over and over. And every time he does, I will be emailing you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope that we can resolve this civilly, woman to woman. I would hate to have to file a complaint with your superior. But you should be aware that I have Santa's number programmed into my phone, and I'm not afraid to text him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look forward to conducting successful business with you in the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sincerely,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Shepherd's Mom&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/SsqEX2SrKII/AAAAAAAA04Q/Q66fCeaboOc/s1600-h/DSC07037.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/SsqEX2SrKII/AAAAAAAA04Q/Q66fCeaboOc/s320/DSC07037.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5389265449347917954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;ps -  that's pizza on his teeth. As opposed to rot and decay. FYI.&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/1455244974087269178-4017710877919491644?l=itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/ElTI/~4/_ws1cFXnYhA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/feeds/4017710877919491644/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1455244974087269178&amp;postID=4017710877919491644&amp;isPopup=true" title="27 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1455244974087269178/posts/default/4017710877919491644?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1455244974087269178/posts/default/4017710877919491644?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/ElTI/~3/_ws1cFXnYhA/dear-tf-before-we-get-started-i-just.html" title="" /><author><name>Missy @ It's Almost Naptime</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11264845015930907294</uri><email>itsalmostnaptime@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="00395478587850420860" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/SsqEYu7wOqI/AAAAAAAA04Y/DW0PZjCYW94/s72-c/DSC07036.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">27</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/2009/10/dear-tf-before-we-get-started-i-just.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0cGRn04eyp7ImA9WxNXF0w.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1455244974087269178.post-790313670675709649</id><published>2009-10-04T22:36:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-04T22:57:07.333-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-04T22:57:07.333-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="guest post" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="walker" /><title>Time for a guest post</title><content type="html">&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10pt;"  &gt;Hello all. Missy is braindead (her words, not mine) and asked me to wax philosophically on the old bloggy blog. Glad to oblige. Let's see, what can I wax about?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10pt;"  &gt;How about the enigma that is woman? Specifically the enigmatic woman that is my wife?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center; font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10pt;"  &gt;Three interesting things about Missy:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10pt;"  &gt;Missy is a creature who loathes silence.  She abhors a noise vacuum.  She often gets “bored” while showering and always calls me in to the bathroom under some false pretense to talk with her while she languidly washes her hair or shaves her legs.  And then gets mad at me when I leave because it's &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;hot&lt;/span&gt; in there. "Why are you leaving? Stay and taallllk to meeeee!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10pt;"  &gt;After some party, dinner, or social event we both enjoyed, on the way home she’ll always ask, “So what did you learn?” as if I am debriefing the CIA regarding some covert spy mission I had just executed.  She also can’t sleep unless there is a sound machine emitting static white noise or there is a constant drone of a TV turned on nearby (usually Judge Judy). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10pt;"&gt;Once she went on a road trip with a girl who did not turn the radio on while Missy slept, and she couldn't stop talking about it. "She drove the whole way back from San Antonio! In silence! SILENCE! How? Why?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10pt;"  &gt; Recently I’ve noticed that while Missy is doing housework and there are no kids or husbands to keep her company she will download podcasts to her iPhone and listen to them while she folds laundry or cleans dishes.  How does she do this while also keeping her hands free?  Well she ingeniously jerry-rigs the cell phone in between the center of her bra and her clavicle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/SsltUTjGsxI/AAAAAAAAzuo/78UDxpFnZ7M/s1600-h/DSC06954.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/SsltUTjGsxI/AAAAAAAAzuo/78UDxpFnZ7M/s320/DSC06954.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5388958624737833746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10pt;"  &gt;Voila, problem solved!  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10pt;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10pt;"  &gt;Missy is also the ultimate multi-tasker.  She routinely starts multiple concurrent projects at the same time, working on them to where they reach various states of completion, only to start a few more newer projects, leaving the “older projects” for another day, the aggregated affect being that most of the projects are rarely completed “on time”.  This, of course, only adds to a general feeling of her feeling “overwhelmed”.  The concept of starting one project, steadily working to complete that one project, then starting a second project only when the first project is 100% done is completely foreign to her.  I mean, who works like that?  Only a lunatic would do something like that!   &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10pt;"  &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10pt;"  &gt;Missy is a “good eater”.  What I mean is that not only is she very adventurous in what she eats, she also eats lots of it.  I don’t mean this as a slam, far from it.  Our good friend Shelly’s husband Billy once described Missy as someone who “eats like a guy”.  How true that is.  Missy just loves to eat and isn’t dainty and reserved about it, especially in public.   I have seen her do a super-cute, gleeful Arm-Wiggle-Chair-Dance when being served a plateful of mouth-watering cuisine.  At buffets she will do back for seconds and thirds, without batting an eye.  There are a couple of exceptions to this, however.  She doesn’t have a sweet tooth (like I do) and she doesn’t like Japanese food, in general.  Other than that, she’s game!  Mediterranean platters of odd, nutty hummus-like porridge?  Check!  Strange pickled Korean vegetables?  Check.  Numerous bowls of Indian curries and spiced oddities?  Double check!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10pt;"  &gt;She's a strange, strange woman. But she's &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;my&lt;/span&gt; strange strange woman.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"  &gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10pt;"  &gt;(Did that sound too much like the opening of Jon and Kate?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;-Walker&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1455244974087269178-790313670675709649?l=itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/ElTI/~4/GF4QXstyTww" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/feeds/790313670675709649/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1455244974087269178&amp;postID=790313670675709649&amp;isPopup=true" title="14 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1455244974087269178/posts/default/790313670675709649?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1455244974087269178/posts/default/790313670675709649?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/ElTI/~3/GF4QXstyTww/time-for-guest-post.html" title="Time for a guest post" /><author><name>Missy @ It's Almost Naptime</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11264845015930907294</uri><email>itsalmostnaptime@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="00395478587850420860" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_1ZkUfbFgMnc/SsltUTjGsxI/AAAAAAAAzuo/78UDxpFnZ7M/s72-c/DSC06954.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">14</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/2009/10/time-for-guest-post.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0UMR3o6fSp7ImA9WxNXFU4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1455244974087269178.post-597750842623370094</id><published>2009-10-02T19:46:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-02T21:01:26.415-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-02T21:01:26.415-05:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="Ethiopia" /><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="adoption" /><title>Testing testing...Philippians 4</title><content type="html">So today officially begins it. We sent our application to Gladney, and this morning we did the phone interview. Now we need to fill out a longer application, and begin a huge gigantic paperchase that will result in us getting a baby girl or a baby boy - tentatively named Bethlehem (Beth) or Gideon (??) - in Spring of 2011.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After we fill out that longer application, we will write our first check.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today Judy from Gladney went over the costs for us. First $300 here, then $660 here, then $2,225 here, then $1,550 here, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;ad nauseum&lt;/span&gt;...and I got a little lightheaded. After the phone call, my emotions ranged from giddy with anticipation to dizzy with panic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Only an absolutely crazy fool would look around at our too small for us, messy, damaged home full of very young children, and say, "Let's go to Africa - AFRICA - and get another one. No clue how we're gonna pay for it. But there are orphans who need families - and family is the one thing we've got. Let's do it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am that fool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And let me tell you, with tears in my eyes, how my soul praises the Lord I am married to just as big a fool. A fool who holds my shaking hands and says, "God's gonna provide, baby. No worries."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For as long as I can remember, it has been my soul's desire to do only three things: get married, have babies, and adopt orphans.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How blessed am I that in Walker, God has given me not my soulmate, but my Spirit mate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And what just occurred to me is this: this adoption will cost almost exactly as much as our wedding did. Oh, how the Lord encourages me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Let's do it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;No worries.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;God's gonna provide.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1455244974087269178-597750842623370094?l=itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/ElTI/~4/bhU8p4of60E" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/feeds/597750842623370094/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1455244974087269178&amp;postID=597750842623370094&amp;isPopup=true" title="30 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1455244974087269178/posts/default/597750842623370094?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1455244974087269178/posts/default/597750842623370094?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/ElTI/~3/bhU8p4of60E/testing-testingphilippians-4.html" title="Testing testing...Philippians 4" /><author><name>Missy @ It's Almost Naptime</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11264845015930907294</uri><email>itsalmostnaptime@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="00395478587850420860" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">30</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/2009/10/testing-testingphilippians-4.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DkIBRHY7fSp7ImA9WxNXFEQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1455244974087269178.post-539093894355580993</id><published>2009-10-02T09:42:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-02T09:42:35.805-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-02T09:42:35.805-05:00</app:edited><title /><content type="html">&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/"&gt;&lt;img src="http://i601.photobucket.com/albums/tt94/memoriesbydesign/FridayFavesButton-1.png" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;div style="border: 2px solid rgb(0, 0, 0); overflow: auto; width: 125px; height: 55px;"&gt;&amp;lt;center&amp;gt;&amp;lt;a href="http://www.itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/"&amp;gt;&amp;lt;img&lt;br /&gt;src="http://i601.photobucket.com/albums/tt94/memoriesbydesign/FridayFavesButton-1.png"/&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/a&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/center&amp;gt;&amp;lt;/td&amp;gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;will be back next week&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1455244974087269178-539093894355580993?l=itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/ElTI/~4/Cygp1oDd4Xc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/feeds/539093894355580993/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1455244974087269178&amp;postID=539093894355580993&amp;isPopup=true" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1455244974087269178/posts/default/539093894355580993?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1455244974087269178/posts/default/539093894355580993?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/ElTI/~3/Cygp1oDd4Xc/hrefhttpwww.html" title="" /><author><name>Missy @ It's Almost Naptime</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11264845015930907294</uri><email>itsalmostnaptime@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="00395478587850420860" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/2009/10/hrefhttpwww.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D04GQXw9eCp7ImA9WxNXFEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1455244974087269178.post-228903245171034391</id><published>2009-10-01T20:12:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2009-10-01T20:12:00.260-05:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-10-01T20:12:00.260-05:00</app:edited><title>God bless Texas</title><content type="html">&lt;embed src="http://c.brightcove.com/services/viewer/federated_f8/716758716" bgcolor="#FFFFFF" flashvars="videoId=42889665001&amp;amp;playerId=716758716&amp;amp;viewerSecureGatewayURL=https://console.brightcove.com/services/amfgateway&amp;amp;servicesURL=http://services.brightcove.com/services&amp;amp;cdnURL=http://admin.brightcove.com&amp;amp;domain=embed&amp;amp;autoStart=false&amp;amp;" base="http://admin.brightcove.com" name="flashObj" width="486" height="412" seamlesstabbing="false" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" swliveconnect="true" pluginspage="http://www.macromedia.com/shockwave/download/index.cgi?P1_Prod_Version=ShockwaveFlash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/1455244974087269178-228903245171034391?l=itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/ElTI/~4/Oq-Csj2yQac" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/feeds/228903245171034391/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=1455244974087269178&amp;postID=228903245171034391&amp;isPopup=true" title="7 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1455244974087269178/posts/default/228903245171034391?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/1455244974087269178/posts/default/228903245171034391?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/ElTI/~3/Oq-Csj2yQac/god-bless-texas.html" title="God bless Texas" /><author><name>Missy @ It's Almost Naptime</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/11264845015930907294</uri><email>itsalmostnaptime@gmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty name="OpenSocialUserId" value="00395478587850420860" /></author><thr:total xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0">7</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://itsalmostnaptime.blogspot.com/2009/10/god-bless-texas.html</feedburner:origLink></entry></feed>
