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<?xml-stylesheet type="text/xsl" media="screen" href="/~d/styles/atom10full.xsl"?><?xml-stylesheet type="text/css" media="screen" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~d/styles/itemcontent.css"?><feed xmlns="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:openSearch="http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearch/1.1/" xmlns:georss="http://www.georss.org/georss" xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr="http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0" xmlns:feedburner="http://rssnamespace.org/feedburner/ext/1.0" gd:etag="W/&quot;DEYHRnw9fCp7ImA9WhRUEkQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5449254555745722171</id><updated>2012-01-22T21:22:17.264-08:00</updated><category term="unschooling learning math" /><category term="renaissance faire" /><category term="silly diaper" /><category term="homeschooling unschooling learning math" /><category term="housework" /><category term="internet" /><category term="costumes" /><category term="nose" /><category term="bike trailer bargain shopping" /><category term="dog" /><category term="sewing" /><category term="garb" /><category term="cleaning" /><category term="gardening organic beneficial insects" /><title>My three sons</title><subtitle type="html">Ramblings of a doctor, lawyer, accountant, secretary, CEO, veterinarian, horticulturist and mother</subtitle><link rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com/" /><link rel="next" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449254555745722171/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25&amp;redirect=false&amp;v=2" /><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12981608108180709305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2194/1556149588_c2257f95b9.jpg" /></author><generator version="7.00" uri="http://www.blogger.com">Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>98</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://feeds.feedburner.com/blogspot/kRYA" /><feedburner:info uri="blogspot/krya" /><atom10:link xmlns:atom10="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" rel="hub" href="http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/" /><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkIDSXo4eip7ImA9WhRXE00.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5449254555745722171.post-7370038013731406660</id><published>2011-12-19T07:22:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-19T07:29:38.432-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-19T07:29:38.432-08:00</app:edited><title>Stuff about recent...</title><content type="html">I'm not sure what I'm blogging about today so I'm just going to start typing and see where it takes me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend we went to visit my family in Rocky Mount, VA to celebrate Christmas with my brothers and sisters and parents. On the way down, my youngest son Jeremy asked me "Who is the girl at Grandma's house who just got back from the centipedes?" He meant Mary, who just recently returned from a mission in the PHILLIPINES but I guess he remembered it by the similar sounding creepy crawly thing. I was going to say insect, but I thought insects only had 6 legs so I have no idea what a centipede actually is...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I just went into the kitchen to find something to eat for breakfast and saw bagels so I decided to have one of those. So there's some sort of Murphy's law about food and husbands I've decided. Chris, my husband, likes to have bagels for breakfast. If I buy one bag of bagels, he will eat them every day and we will run out of bagels. However, if I buy TWO bags of bagels to prevent running out of bagels, he will not eat bagels in the morning and they will go bad. I can not win!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5449254555745722171-7370038013731406660?l=sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/kRYA/~4/jiIYyJ183UA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com/feeds/7370038013731406660/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5449254555745722171&amp;postID=7370038013731406660" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449254555745722171/posts/default/7370038013731406660?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449254555745722171/posts/default/7370038013731406660?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/kRYA/~3/jiIYyJ183UA/stuff-about-recent.html" title="Stuff about recent..." /><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12981608108180709305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2194/1556149588_c2257f95b9.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com/2011/12/stuff-about-recent.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C04ESXY7eyp7ImA9WhRQFk4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5449254555745722171.post-3222850009599107252</id><published>2011-12-11T11:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-11T11:31:48.803-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-11T11:31:48.803-08:00</app:edited><title>One more thing..</title><content type="html">I just have to add how proud I am of my husband and his amazing weight loss transformation. Now, I shall reveal photographs of him which demonstrate this transformation. And he will probably be rather displeased with me for posting them online. So without further ado, or before I get caught....&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1OltFNG_Jms/TuUEwRy3sSI/AAAAAAAAAPE/fjbrl5gDEjw/s1600/DSCF9482.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 241px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1OltFNG_Jms/TuUEwRy3sSI/AAAAAAAAAPE/fjbrl5gDEjw/s320/DSCF9482.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5684955332082118946" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chris on his 32nd birthday, 2010&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Nb5TljpgspA/TuUEwYNP6rI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/aJJ85uv33Hc/s1600/DSCF9964.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Nb5TljpgspA/TuUEwYNP6rI/AAAAAAAAAPQ/aJJ85uv33Hc/s320/DSCF9964.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5684955333803371186" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chris on his 33rd birthday, 2011, 60 pounds lighter&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5449254555745722171-3222850009599107252?l=sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/kRYA/~4/fjiznMdWL8Q" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com/feeds/3222850009599107252/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5449254555745722171&amp;postID=3222850009599107252" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449254555745722171/posts/default/3222850009599107252?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449254555745722171/posts/default/3222850009599107252?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/kRYA/~3/fjiznMdWL8Q/one-more-thing.html" title="One more thing.." /><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12981608108180709305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2194/1556149588_c2257f95b9.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-1OltFNG_Jms/TuUEwRy3sSI/AAAAAAAAAPE/fjbrl5gDEjw/s72-c/DSCF9482.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com/2011/12/one-more-thing.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0QASHw4cSp7ImA9WhRQFk4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5449254555745722171.post-3691155723761832464</id><published>2011-12-11T10:54:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-11T11:22:29.239-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-12-11T11:22:29.239-08:00</app:edited><title>Year-End Update</title><content type="html">&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UvIitCFGvlc/TuT-cv30w0I/AAAAAAAAAOs/NI5RNHlPHQQ/s1600/100_1497.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UvIitCFGvlc/TuT-cv30w0I/AAAAAAAAAOs/NI5RNHlPHQQ/s320/100_1497.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5684948399488811842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I tend to forget about blogging a lot, but every now and then I wander back to it. So I will recap our year's adventures here and who knows, maybe I will blog tomorrow too!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I said in a earlier blog post, I got married to a wonderful man back in March. It was awesome and just how I wanted it to be. I told Chris when we met that he would have to ask the boys if he could marry me, so he did and they said yes! We went to Buffalo, NY for an SCA event and then on Sunday after the event we went to a little church in Niagara Falls and got married! It was small, wonderful, and my dress cost $99. That was the best part IMO. Everyone looked so great, the boys all wore suits, it was a happy time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to lots of SCA events this summer with the highlight being Pennsic. The boys and I also did Laura Camp this year once again with my family. Unfortunately Chris had to work so he was unable to join us&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jsR6Dn7DSvE/TuT_AkTdymI/AAAAAAAAAO4/JKj2WQ0jeaA/s1600/DSCF9632.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jsR6Dn7DSvE/TuT_AkTdymI/AAAAAAAAAO4/JKj2WQ0jeaA/s320/DSCF9632.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5684949014858812002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;. We also got to go to a Baltimore Orioles game with Chris' work and we got to watch the game from a box I guess its called? There was catered food and free drinks and it was REALLY nice. Chris says now we have set the bar really high and the boys will never be satisfied with going to see a ball game in the "regular" seats now!! Here we all are with the team mascot who came to visit in the box.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was also lucky enough to be able to go to scout camp at Camp Rock Enon with Hunter and the other boys from his pack. It was a lot of fun and there Hunter became friends with Riley, his first ever real friend! They are still friends now and it is so cute. I was also asked to be the Tiger Cubs den leader, which I agreed to do and I have been LOVING doing all kinds of fun activities with the tigers!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have also been continuing my education working towards my Bachelors of Science in Accounting and Business Administration at Shepherd University. I am happy to announce that I have ONE semester to go and I will be finished with my degree! I am even happier to announce that by the grace of God I have been offered a job already, with good pay and benefits and I can't WAIT to get started, but that won't be until next fall. I have become involved at school by helping start the Accounting Club at Shepherd. I was actually nominated and voted in as President so I am now the President of the Shepherd accounting club!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have also volunteered every year that the boys have been in school to help out, but have never been contacted. However, this year ironically, I finally heard something and was made Nathan's first grade room mother! So on top of everything else, I've been the room mother for Nathan's class and have had the opportunity to go in to the school and do fun activities and crafts with the kids!  They are so cute and I love it!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In news of the boys, Hunter and Nathan are both in cub scouts. Hunter is a bear and Nathan is one of my tigers. They are both LOVING scouts, Hunter has really gotten into it after attending scout camp this summer. He often wants me to come go through his bear requirements at night when he's in bed reading, and his Christmas list is nothing but camping equipment out of the scout catalog! He is also very interested in the SCA and still does youth fighting when we are able to pull it off. He seems to take an interest in whatever me, Chris or his dad are doing and is very much interested in fighting, ice hockey, ice skating and hunting. However he doesn't limit himself to those activities, he as actually learned to use the sewing machine and has sewn himself several pieces of garb for the SCA this year!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nathan has been placed on an IEP and is doing significantly better this year in first grade in contrast to the difficulty last year in Kindergarten. He really enjoys going to school and has made some friends there, which is very exciting! He also has several friends in Tiger cubs that he really enjoys being able to visit at scouts. He has a pet hamster named Debbie, who is a boy, that he got last year for his birthday. He really loves animals and is very good with his hamster. He is also interested in video games and loves doing craft projects.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jeremy started kindergarten this year and is definitely the social butterfly of the three boys! He has made all kinds of friends at school and when I've gone in to the school to pick him up he often has to give hugs to several girls before he is able to leave. Uh oh!! He seems to be Hunter's little shadow and wants to do everything his big brother does. He also enjoys crafts and has made me several cute craft projects over the year which I have stowed away for safe keeping! He is also our family comedian and keeps everyone laughing with the off-the-wall things he says and does. Its very difficult sometimes to discipline him for something that is inappropriate yet extremely funny!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And finally our latest addition to the family, Chris! Chris works for American Suzuki Motor Corporation at his office in Mechanicsburg, PA. He drives 1 1/2 hours each way to work every day, a sacrifice he decided he was willing to make in order to be married and live together as a family. In my opinion, and the boys, he is the best step-dad ever! He treats the boys like they were his own and is such a blessing to me and to them. He has also just recently accepted a position in our cub scout pack as the Webelos den leader and I am SO proud of him for doing that. I know he will do a great job with them and I am so happy that I have married a man that is willing to give of his time and serve others! He also is the Knight Marshal of the heavy fighting for our SCA group, which means he is in charge of the fighters and holding the practices. He also coached the t-ball team that I managed this spring, which was no small feat!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that about covers us for this year. Have a happy holiday season!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5449254555745722171-3691155723761832464?l=sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/kRYA/~4/-dvpPGm9Rh4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com/feeds/3691155723761832464/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5449254555745722171&amp;postID=3691155723761832464" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449254555745722171/posts/default/3691155723761832464?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449254555745722171/posts/default/3691155723761832464?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/kRYA/~3/-dvpPGm9Rh4/year-end-update.html" title="Year-End Update" /><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12981608108180709305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2194/1556149588_c2257f95b9.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UvIitCFGvlc/TuT-cv30w0I/AAAAAAAAAOs/NI5RNHlPHQQ/s72-c/100_1497.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com/2011/12/year-end-update.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0QBQXg9fip7ImA9WhdWFE0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5449254555745722171.post-2485452537807883878</id><published>2011-09-07T07:14:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-07T07:22:30.666-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2011-09-07T07:22:30.666-07:00</app:edited><title>Oops I forgot....</title><content type="html">I forgot to blog. For well over a year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this is what I've done since my last post:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;I got hitched to a wonderful man in Niagara Falls (I also brought him home with me).&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I managed a T-ball team.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I became a tiger cub den leader&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I found 9 stray kittens (no I didn't keep them)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I cleaned my house once or twice.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I made straight A's in college&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I became a senior in college&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I declared my Accounting/Business double major&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I went to Pennsic.... twice...&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I've hugged my boys 3,495,473,999 times.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I was an adult leader at Cub Scout resident camp&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I went to New York City.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I lost 30 pounds... and gained most of it back.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I quit an unmentionable dirty habit.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I bought a new van because my old van's transmission died on my way to school.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I got an ipad.. sort of.. (Its actually Hubby's work's ipad)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;I wanted to say I learned how to manage my time... but I didn't. Because I'm doing this right now instead of working on schoolwork.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;Maybe I'll blog again before another 1 1/2 years go by.. We'll see...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5449254555745722171-2485452537807883878?l=sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/kRYA/~4/PkWII5QJKHQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com/feeds/2485452537807883878/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5449254555745722171&amp;postID=2485452537807883878" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449254555745722171/posts/default/2485452537807883878?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449254555745722171/posts/default/2485452537807883878?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/kRYA/~3/PkWII5QJKHQ/oops-i-forgot.html" title="Oops I forgot...." /><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12981608108180709305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2194/1556149588_c2257f95b9.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com/2011/09/oops-i-forgot.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUIEQHc9cSp7ImA9WxBUEk0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5449254555745722171.post-306569975801135025</id><published>2010-02-26T09:59:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-26T10:05:01.969-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-26T10:05:01.969-08:00</app:edited><title>Our space ship houses</title><content type="html">So when Nathan gets big we are going to have houses that are very close to each other. His house is going to be made out of metal and mine is going to be next door. There will be skeleton hands and if y0u take out the skeleton hands the ship won't work because the house can turn into a ship. Inside the ship thats also a house are invisible hands. You don't even have to dress yourself because of the invisible hands. If you don't want to cook dinner the invisible hands will do that too and it only takes 1 second to make dinner. The flowers on my ship will be in dirt but they will never need water because I don't remember to water them. And even when my ship is flying the dirt and flowers stay there. And my house can make flowers for all of my friends.&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If I want a baby Nathan is going to make me a baby girl. He's going to start with the brain and make a baby and its going to be a girl because I'm a mom and I like babies. He's going to use his bridge power with his wand to carry heavy stuff.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Nathan will spray me with the invisible spray so that nobody else can see me. But he can see me because he has the special glasses. But if he loses his special glasses he will get the special invisible seeing people power and he will still be able to see me. And if I want to become visible again he's going to spray me with a hose.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;We are going to all have walk through power, so we can walk through anything. Nathan is going to be so generous he is going to give everyone walk through power when he's big, except for Jeremy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;If I grow up and have shape power I can change to any shape head I want to be, and then my face will be different. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;When Nathan gets big and we live next door to each other in our space ship houses, if I want to hold him like I do now he is going to turn back into a little kid so that I can hold him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5449254555745722171-306569975801135025?l=sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/kRYA/~4/0XS8NQIwcuY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com/feeds/306569975801135025/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5449254555745722171&amp;postID=306569975801135025" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449254555745722171/posts/default/306569975801135025?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449254555745722171/posts/default/306569975801135025?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/kRYA/~3/0XS8NQIwcuY/our-space-ship-houses.html" title="Our space ship houses" /><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12981608108180709305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2194/1556149588_c2257f95b9.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com/2010/02/our-space-ship-houses.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ak8CRn08fSp7ImA9WxBUEUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5449254555745722171.post-8364367151031635828</id><published>2010-02-26T07:26:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-26T07:41:07.375-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2010-02-26T07:41:07.375-08:00</app:edited><title>Back again..</title><content type="html">Maybe I'll do better this time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well last night Hunter lost his second tooth. He was so incredibly excited about having lost a tooth and the prospect of the tooth fairy visiting and getting MORE MONEY that he could barely get his pajamas on. Seriously. He was half dressed giggling around his room talking about money and adding up what money he already has and speculating over how much he would have depending on how much the tooth fairy brought him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally he got dressed and we did our bedtime routine and the boys all went to bed. Well at 11 p.m. I realized that I almost forgot to tooth fairy. I had told Hunter that I needed to make him a tooth fairy pillow before he went to bed and he sounded really excited about that idea, so I decided to whip him one up. So I cut a couple squares, sewed a pocket on, serged them together on 3 sides, stuffed them and serged it closed. Super simple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I started hunting the house over for some cash.. all I could find were a couple of ones and a ten. Well.. last time the tooth fairy brought him $4 he told me and I knew he'd be disappointed if I only left $2 or $3. So I went ahead with the ten... yes, I've set the bar high now and all future tooth fairy visits will be a disappointment if she doesn't leave $10 but I'll cross that bridge when it happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well this morning at 5 a.m. I was awoken by a very excited boy with his tooth fairy pillow and $10. I told him, at 5 a.m., that I made the pillow but he didn't believe me. Then he went to sleep in my bed, with his head on the tooth fairy pillow. At some time between 5 a.m. and when we finally got up he asked me why it was so small, he was trying to sleep on it silly kid!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyway this morning he was telling me that he "didn't think I made it because of the airplanes on the fabric" but I told him I have the fabric downstairs and I can show it to him if he doesn't believe me!  How dare that darn tooth fairy take credit for something *I* made!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I was going to post pictures but I can't find my phone/camera. So if anyone is reading this give me a call so I can find my phone!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5449254555745722171-8364367151031635828?l=sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/kRYA/~4/pcobtiZ9pUw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com/feeds/8364367151031635828/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5449254555745722171&amp;postID=8364367151031635828" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449254555745722171/posts/default/8364367151031635828?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449254555745722171/posts/default/8364367151031635828?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/kRYA/~3/pcobtiZ9pUw/back-again.html" title="Back again.." /><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12981608108180709305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2194/1556149588_c2257f95b9.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com/2010/02/back-again.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkcMRXs7fCp7ImA9WxNSGE4.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5449254555745722171.post-7290927544535284595</id><published>2009-09-01T11:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-09-01T11:34:44.504-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-09-01T11:34:44.504-07:00</app:edited><title>I'm baaaack!</title><content type="html">I'm going to try to start posting again.. this one probably won't contain my usual, highly sought after wit because I'm just going to update..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, after 8 years of marriage, 3 children, owning 2 homes and moving 4 or 5 times my husband has decided that he no longer wants to be married. Now, he doesn't like me to blame it on him and I'm not giving him all the fault for the marriage not working out but he IS the one who decided to call it quits. So that IS his fault. I tried to get us to go to counseling, etc, etc... but he's just done. Which is sad, very very sad. But I am OK!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have my own place now in Hedgesville, WV. We moved up here right before he decided to end the marriage. Its a really nice townhouse with FOUR bathrooms.. yes I know, its crazy. Nobody needs 4 bathrooms but nevertheless I have them, they are there, and one of them is filthy because I pretend it doesn't exist. Its too many bathrooms to clean, plain and simple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am going to school full time, taking 18 credit hours this semester, in persuit of a degree in Nursing. I'll be graduating, God willing, in the fall of 2012.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jason and I are trying split custody of the kids where we swap weeks with them. I am not crazy about this plan.. ok I don't like it one little bit. But as far as I can read and can tell, this is the best arrangement for the kids. They will have equal (or relatively equal) time with each parent. I do believe that my kids need their dad. Although I'm not the most feminine girl you've ever met I don't want my boys to become pansy asses who bake cakes and sew their own clothes--well, they can do that but I don't want it to be their major ambition in life.. well... its ok with me if it is. BUT they need to learn to do manly stuff that I don't like to do, like hunt. And gut fish. And mow the grass. Because I'm darn tired of mowing the grass. Whats the minimum age you can put your son behind a lawn mower?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway. So thats a little update. I'll try and post something witty tomorrow. And a picture because nobody likes picture-less blogs.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5449254555745722171-7290927544535284595?l=sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/kRYA/~4/81Uj9RhiAjQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com/feeds/7290927544535284595/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5449254555745722171&amp;postID=7290927544535284595" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449254555745722171/posts/default/7290927544535284595?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449254555745722171/posts/default/7290927544535284595?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/kRYA/~3/81Uj9RhiAjQ/im-baaaack.html" title="I'm baaaack!" /><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12981608108180709305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2194/1556149588_c2257f95b9.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com/2009/09/im-baaaack.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkcCRXk8eyp7ImA9WxVXEkQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5449254555745722171.post-5897016369649464617</id><published>2009-02-10T12:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-10T12:34:24.773-08:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2009-02-10T12:34:24.773-08:00</app:edited><title>What to do with an unruly child?</title><content type="html">What did I do to deserve this? (Don't answer that Mom!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend Tracy used to lament to me over how her son would just get into EVERYTHING. And I would always (secretly) say to myself "Well there must be something wrong with her kid because MINE don't do that kind of stuff!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hrumph. God got me for that one, let me tell you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jeremy, my youngest, is payback for thinking such a thought! He is CONSTANTLY into EVERYTHING! Yesterday he filled the bathroom sink to overflowing with water and managed to get a good 1/4" of water all over the bathroom floor. He regularly takes chairs into the kitchen and climbs up on the counters to get into the cabinets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today he was yelling "I'm making popcorn!" and I decided to go see what he was doing... yeah he had gotten a bag of frozen DEER MEAT out of the freezer, somehow managed to open it (it had been sealed with the vacuum sealer!) and was happily playing with chunks of raw deer. Yuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clean that up, not an hour later I hear what sounded like beads being dumped out on the floor. Thought to myself "hmm thats funny, I didn't know they had beads" and didn't do anything til Nathan started screaming "JEREMY IS THROWING DOG FOOD AT ME!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yep. Jeremy got the bucket of dog food and dumped it all over the floor. Then was picking it up, two fistfulls at a time, and throwing it at his brother!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AGHHHHHHHHHHHH!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry Tracy, and God. I have put my foot in my mouth.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5449254555745722171-5897016369649464617?l=sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/kRYA/~4/N-FtYU9tJM8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com/feeds/5897016369649464617/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5449254555745722171&amp;postID=5897016369649464617" title="5 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449254555745722171/posts/default/5897016369649464617?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449254555745722171/posts/default/5897016369649464617?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/kRYA/~3/N-FtYU9tJM8/what-to-do-with-unruly-child.html" title="What to do with an unruly child?" /><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12981608108180709305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2194/1556149588_c2257f95b9.jpg" /></author><thr:total>5</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com/2009/02/what-to-do-with-unruly-child.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkQERng_fip7ImA9WxdUF0s.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5449254555745722171.post-3946366161668471968</id><published>2008-08-03T05:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-03T05:58:27.646-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-08-03T05:58:27.646-07:00</app:edited><title>Out from under the book...</title><content type="html">Well now that I'm out from under the book I can get back to my regularly scheduled blogging!  I read all 4 Twilight series books over the past 5 days. I couldn't help myself. They're really good!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also went to the Breaking Dawn (the 4th book in the series which was released August 2) book release party at Barnes and Noble with my sister and sister-in-law. We even made book t-shirts. I felt like I had stepped backwards in my life about 15 years. And then I realized while I was there that I am offically *old*. I was so out of place! So while the teenage kids chatted and giggled I shopped for homeschool supplies and birthday presents for my kids.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We ended up leaving before the actual book release and going to buy our books at Walmart. There was no crowd... we just walked up to the display, plucked our books off the shelf and paid for them. Incidentally the cashier told us that they had "had these for awhile" and we figured this backwards Rocky Mount redneck Walmart probably HAD stocked them before midnight and  we could have been well into our reading before the official release date! Oh well.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5449254555745722171-3946366161668471968?l=sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/kRYA/~4/5y80IC9dz2g" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com/feeds/3946366161668471968/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5449254555745722171&amp;postID=3946366161668471968" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449254555745722171/posts/default/3946366161668471968?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449254555745722171/posts/default/3946366161668471968?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/kRYA/~3/5y80IC9dz2g/out-from-under-book.html" title="Out from under the book..." /><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12981608108180709305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2194/1556149588_c2257f95b9.jpg" /></author><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com/2008/08/out-from-under-book.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0IDSXg-eyp7ImA9WxdUFEg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5449254555745722171.post-7755422390812633703</id><published>2008-07-30T13:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-30T13:59:38.653-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-30T13:59:38.653-07:00</app:edited><title>Sucked in by Twilight...</title><content type="html">I too have been sucked in by the series. They're phenomenal!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.stepheniemeyer.com/twilightseries.html"&gt;http://www.stepheniemeyer.com/twilightseries.html&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I first saw one of the books in my sister's bathroom (I know, she reads on the toilet. Gross.. hahaha don't we all?) I opened it up and I read a few lines and thought to myself "Wow, this is really stupid. Its about teenage vampires" And I closed it without a second thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Months went by and somehow they came up in discussion with my sister and sisters-in-law and they told me that I just *had* to read them. Being the bookworm that I am, I took the challenge and before I knew it I was thoroughly engrossed. In fact my nose was stuck inside the books for three days straight (even well into most nights... I read til 3 or 4 a.m. until I could no longer keep my eyes open) and I LOVED them. Well at that point the 4th book, Breaking Dawn, was still along way from release so I went on my merry way and forgot about the books.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fast forward to this week--my sister and sisters-in-law remind me that the book is coming out THIS weekend. I remembered that I enjoyed the books but not so much the fine details, so I decided that I should reread them before this weekend so I can buy the 4th book and read it immediately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should point out at this point that it is *extremely rare* that I would pick up a book and read it a second time unless it is something like, oh a COOKBOOK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I start with the first book, &lt;u&gt;Twilight&lt;/u&gt;. By the end of that day, I have FINISHED the book! I couldn't believe how quickly I was sucked in on the second go round! So yesterday I picked up the second book and this morning I finished the last 50 pages. This afternoon I picked up the 3rd book and I am now halfway through it. They are SO GOOD!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now of course like all other &lt;u&gt;Twilight&lt;/u&gt; readers I have formulated my own theories of what will happen in &lt;u&gt;Breaking Dawn&lt;/u&gt;. But I'll save that for another blog post. Suffice it to say, I'm a die-hard Jacob fan. I'm going to be really mad if he doesn't end up happy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Stephenie Meyer, many kudos to you for your excellent writing skills! My hat is off to you... but you better make this last one GOOD for Jacob!!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5449254555745722171-7755422390812633703?l=sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/kRYA/~4/5qgrofOSaw4" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com/feeds/7755422390812633703/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5449254555745722171&amp;postID=7755422390812633703" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449254555745722171/posts/default/7755422390812633703?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449254555745722171/posts/default/7755422390812633703?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/kRYA/~3/5qgrofOSaw4/sucked-in-by-twilight.html" title="Sucked in by Twilight..." /><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12981608108180709305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2194/1556149588_c2257f95b9.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com/2008/07/sucked-in-by-twilight.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DEYFSXgyfyp7ImA9WxdUE04.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5449254555745722171.post-3265393642823979157</id><published>2008-07-29T05:42:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-29T05:55:18.697-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-29T05:55:18.697-07:00</app:edited><title>This is how it went down..</title><content type="html">A few weeks ago I was in WV visiting Jason. I had been drinking some Diet Dr Pepper on the drive and had bought some more and drank it while visiting him. That evening my chest began to hurt so badly that I could barely stand it. I went and laid down and over the next day or two the pain subsided and eventually disappeared. I didn't think much of it and went on with my life (but didn't drink more Dr Pepper, not because I made any connection but because as a general rule I try to avoid sodas)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_AM3OuJP5pMw/SI8TKRDDpbI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/DE9wNIeXcZQ/s1600-h/Diet-Dr-Pepper-Can1.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_AM3OuJP5pMw/SI8TKRDDpbI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/DE9wNIeXcZQ/s320/Diet-Dr-Pepper-Can1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228418759496279474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fast forward a week or two later.. I'm back at my moms and I had a headache, so while I was out I bought a 20 oz Diet Dr Pepper. Drank it all and about 6 hours afterwards I started having chest pains. At this point they were mildly uncomfortable and I went to sleep. The next day I awoke with the pains but they were bearable. I was busy outside for the majority of the day. Around 3 p.m. that day the pains got so intense that I had to go sit down and try to breathe. The pain intensified when I inhaled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later that evening I got another 20 oz Diet Dr Pepper, and drank the entire bottle. Still not making the correlation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day Jason was here and we took the boys out and went canoeing. That morning I bought another 20 oz Diet Dr Pepper and drank it while we were out. Later that evening the chest pains were so intense I was considering a trip to the ER.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started considering what was causing these chest pains. What changes had I made in my diet? Then it dawned on me. The common denominator in the two incidents of chest pain was the Diet Dr Pepper. I began to search the internet and found reference after reference of the dangers of aspartame. There are 92 documented known side effects of aspartame! The video I posted yesterday tells some shocking truths of aspartame. Heart arrhythmias, brain tumors, lupus, muscular sclerosis.. all caused by aspartame! SCARY SCARY STUFF!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning I have been ALMOST 48 hours without aspartame. The chest pains have decreased dramatically. They are almost gone. Needless to say, in the future I will avoid aspartame like the plague. I will encourage everyone around me to give it up and I will NEVER allow my children to have it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It sickens me that the FDA who is supposed to be protecting the public allows this poison to circulate throughout our society. And it saddens me that so many people don't know what they're getting into when they put it in their bodies.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5449254555745722171-3265393642823979157?l=sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/kRYA/~4/jS7-QQvLWxE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com/feeds/3265393642823979157/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5449254555745722171&amp;postID=3265393642823979157" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449254555745722171/posts/default/3265393642823979157?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449254555745722171/posts/default/3265393642823979157?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/kRYA/~3/jS7-QQvLWxE/this-is-how-it-went-down.html" title="This is how it went down.." /><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12981608108180709305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2194/1556149588_c2257f95b9.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://bp1.blogger.com/_AM3OuJP5pMw/SI8TKRDDpbI/AAAAAAAAAKQ/DE9wNIeXcZQ/s72-c/Diet-Dr-Pepper-Can1.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com/2008/07/this-is-how-it-went-down.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkUDSXYzcSp7ImA9WxdUEkg.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5449254555745722171.post-396753278557301996</id><published>2008-07-28T08:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-28T08:17:58.889-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-28T08:17:58.889-07:00</app:edited><title>Why haven't I been here? Aspartame...</title><content type="html">Aspartame is apparently not good for me--I've been down with chest pains as a result of my consumption of aspartame in Diet Dr Pepper. In fact, on further investigation, its apparently not fit for human consumption.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pop some popcorn, pour yourself a glass of non-diet beverage and take a look:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;embed id="VideoPlayback" style="width: 400px; height: 326px;" allowfullscreen="true" src="http://video.google.com/googleplayer.swf?docid=-566922170441334340&amp;amp;hl=en&amp;amp;fs=true" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5449254555745722171-396753278557301996?l=sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/kRYA/~4/NwZurVO5AWw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com/feeds/396753278557301996/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5449254555745722171&amp;postID=396753278557301996" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449254555745722171/posts/default/396753278557301996?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449254555745722171/posts/default/396753278557301996?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/kRYA/~3/NwZurVO5AWw/why-havent-i-been-here-aspartame.html" title="Why haven't I been here? Aspartame..." /><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12981608108180709305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2194/1556149588_c2257f95b9.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com/2008/07/why-havent-i-been-here-aspartame.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkEDSH09cSp7ImA9WxdVGUU.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5449254555745722171.post-91479263384991112</id><published>2008-07-25T05:12:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-25T05:24:39.369-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-25T05:24:39.369-07:00</app:edited><title>Middle Child Syndrome..</title><content type="html">Well today I had wanted to post a video of the aforementioned chicken running but I wasn't able to get a good clip. I'm going to try again today and  maybe tomorrow you'll see a running chicken.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So today I thought I'd discuss my curious middle child. Now, I've never been a middle child OR a boy myself so he and I have very little in common. He is very active and I am not. I'd rather sit on the couch. He lives in a happy little place in his head that I call "Nathan Land" .&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_AM3OuJP5pMw/SInDo9CYuyI/AAAAAAAAAKI/ORCdxU3cGuQ/s1600-h/DSCF9001.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_AM3OuJP5pMw/SInDo9CYuyI/AAAAAAAAAKI/ORCdxU3cGuQ/s320/DSCF9001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226923950886927138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This picture is a very accurate portrayal of Nathan visiting "Nathan Land". He's the straggler back there, just humming along at his own pace. He really does hum, whenever he's enjoying himself (be it playing or just in his thoughts)  he's humming. He  carries an assortment of toys with him everywhere he goes. Lately its been robots. I call them his "accessories". They go everywhere with him, from the toilet, to the dinner table and even to bed. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_AM3OuJP5pMw/SInDofmzg7I/AAAAAAAAAKA/asVFPOijQiY/s1600-h/DSCF9007.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_AM3OuJP5pMw/SInDofmzg7I/AAAAAAAAAKA/asVFPOijQiY/s320/DSCF9007.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226923942986613682" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Although he's in Nathan Land most of the time, he'll immediately come back to Earth if you ask him for a hug. He's the sweetest of all three boys. Now I love all my kids the same but if I had to pick a favorite... well.. I'm just saying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've read some stuff about middle child syndrome-insecurity and a bunch of other psychological rubbish about having hard time coping. I think he's going to be just fine! Of course I'm biased because I'm his mother. As it stands right now, I think he's perfect!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5449254555745722171-91479263384991112?l=sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/kRYA/~4/uUA7Z2o0V00" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com/feeds/91479263384991112/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5449254555745722171&amp;postID=91479263384991112" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449254555745722171/posts/default/91479263384991112?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449254555745722171/posts/default/91479263384991112?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/kRYA/~3/uUA7Z2o0V00/middle-child-syndrome.html" title="Middle Child Syndrome.." /><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12981608108180709305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2194/1556149588_c2257f95b9.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://bp2.blogger.com/_AM3OuJP5pMw/SInDo9CYuyI/AAAAAAAAAKI/ORCdxU3cGuQ/s72-c/DSCF9001.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com/2008/07/middle-child-syndrome.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0QHQ347fyp7ImA9WxdVGU0.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5449254555745722171.post-1090073777444867328</id><published>2008-07-24T04:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T05:08:52.007-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-24T05:08:52.007-07:00</app:edited><title>Here's a chick, there's a chick...</title><content type="html">&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_AM3OuJP5pMw/SIhuxjJ_-wI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hCt03w4qrVQ/s1600-h/DSCF9010.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_AM3OuJP5pMw/SIhuxjJ_-wI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hCt03w4qrVQ/s320/DSCF9010.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226549165093288706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mom has chickens.. LOTS of chickens. Most of them are running around pooping everywhere but some of them are in chicken tractors. Haha no they're not DRIVING tractors, its a movable cage for chickens with the idea that the chickens are fertilizing and cultivating the soil. Back to the point-- Mom has so many chickens that I've taken to calling her the Crazy Chicken Lady. You know like old ladies with hundreds of cats in their houses... well she can't have cats inside so she has chickens outside. She loves those chickens. They all know her and come running when they see her and if you haven't seen a chicken run you are really missing out. If you can imagine a fat lady holding up her dress and running as fast as she can.. even the mental image is hilarious!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_AM3OuJP5pMw/SIhux4RM9_I/AAAAAAAAAJo/o59-fTzky5w/s1600-h/DSCF9018.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_AM3OuJP5pMw/SIhux4RM9_I/AAAAAAAAAJo/o59-fTzky5w/s320/DSCF9018.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226549170760644594" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So anyway this year Mom was smart and put her broody hens in chicken tractors so she wouldn't double the pooping population running around the yard. One unruly hen slipped through the cracks and showed up a few days ago with TWELVE chicks that she had been hiding and setting on. Well Mom had already dubbed this hen an unfit mother for one reason or another and she proved once again that in spite of her ability to SET she still couldn't take care of them. Kind of like a teenager who gets pregnant who CAN have a baby but doesn't mean they SHOULD! Ha!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So Mom finds this chicken with her babies in a water bowl, about to drown. One had already drowned. So Mom starts operation chick rescue and takes the babies away. We get here (we had been out of town when this happened) and she tells us that we can have the chicks! My boys are delighted, as you can tell in this picture of Hunter! He really is happy... he just doesn't like strangers like you.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_AM3OuJP5pMw/SIhwnhr55_I/AAAAAAAAAJ4/bkWRs4-KQY0/s1600-h/DSCF9012.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_AM3OuJP5pMw/SIhwnhr55_I/AAAAAAAAAJ4/bkWRs4-KQY0/s320/DSCF9012.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226551191923189746" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;So now not only are we a displaced family that is pretty much homeless waiting for our house to sell, but we also are accumulating a menagerie-- a dog, a guinea pig and 10 chickens. What will I think of next?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5449254555745722171-1090073777444867328?l=sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/kRYA/~4/UiChqMSANpA" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com/feeds/1090073777444867328/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5449254555745722171&amp;postID=1090073777444867328" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449254555745722171/posts/default/1090073777444867328?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449254555745722171/posts/default/1090073777444867328?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/kRYA/~3/UiChqMSANpA/heres-chick-theres-chick.html" title="Here's a chick, there's a chick..." /><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12981608108180709305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2194/1556149588_c2257f95b9.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://bp3.blogger.com/_AM3OuJP5pMw/SIhuxjJ_-wI/AAAAAAAAAJg/hCt03w4qrVQ/s72-c/DSCF9010.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com/2008/07/heres-chick-theres-chick.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;AkQDRnw9cSp7ImA9WxdVGEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5449254555745722171.post-2383759514808794516</id><published>2008-07-23T05:37:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-23T06:06:17.269-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-23T06:06:17.269-07:00</app:edited><title>I'm in love</title><content type="html">and I don't think Jason will ever take me there again. Where you ask? Well to Jason's dads place. A year or so ago he bought 50 acres in some little town in the mountains in Tennessee. We visited him earlier this year (I think) and then just recently over the 4th of July weekend.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_AM3OuJP5pMw/SIcmi8fZgmI/AAAAAAAAAJY/epH2sL-Sscc/s1600-h/DSCF8942.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_AM3OuJP5pMw/SIcmi8fZgmI/AAAAAAAAAJY/epH2sL-Sscc/s320/DSCF8942.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226188274381980258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Well the last visit did me in. I went running while I was there and met this dog, but that isn't what made me fall in love. The views are SPECTACULAR. He lives in a valley and it is just gorgeous. I threatened to bring our travel trailer down and live in his field. I think he thought I was joking... haha he may get a surprise one day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So now I'm in love with the place. Not only am I in love with it, but I'm slightly obsessed with having my own little piece of the country. Yeah, I always wanted land before but after falling in love in TN I REALLY want a piece of land. Like it consumes my thoughts  all day long. And so of course Jason knows about my obsession, which leads me to wonder if I'll ever get to visit TN again... at least as long as we don't have our own little piece of the country.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are the boys with Jason and Don after fishing ON DONS PROPERTY! A river runs through it! See why I'm so jealous?&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_AM3OuJP5pMw/SIcmitt0g0I/AAAAAAAAAJQ/3qDARHk7OTo/s1600-h/DSCF8936.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_AM3OuJP5pMw/SIcmitt0g0I/AAAAAAAAAJQ/3qDARHk7OTo/s320/DSCF8936.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226188270415938370" 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/5449254555745722171-2383759514808794516?l=sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/kRYA/~4/pC4mDGKWlqY" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com/feeds/2383759514808794516/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5449254555745722171&amp;postID=2383759514808794516" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449254555745722171/posts/default/2383759514808794516?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449254555745722171/posts/default/2383759514808794516?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/kRYA/~3/pC4mDGKWlqY/im-in-love.html" title="I'm in love" /><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12981608108180709305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2194/1556149588_c2257f95b9.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://bp1.blogger.com/_AM3OuJP5pMw/SIcmi8fZgmI/AAAAAAAAAJY/epH2sL-Sscc/s72-c/DSCF8942.JPG" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com/2008/07/im-in-love.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0UGRHY5fyp7ImA9WxdVF0g.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5449254555745722171.post-7669908252360097952</id><published>2008-07-22T13:16:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-22T13:40:25.827-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-22T13:40:25.827-07:00</app:edited><title>The Evolution of the Mommy Mobile</title><content type="html">It all started when someone got this bright idea for a wheel.&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly, women didn't have to carry their kids anymore. They could cart them! But since horses were doing the pulling, moms would let their kids ride and they would walk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_AM3OuJP5pMw/SIZAky1Qu6I/AAAAAAAAAII/eO1G8j07DaU/s1600-h/firstvehicle.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_AM3OuJP5pMw/SIZAky1Qu6I/AAAAAAAAAII/eO1G8j07DaU/s320/firstvehicle.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225935418474675106" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then this genius came along by the name of Henry Ford, and he designed the horseless carriage! No more walking for mom! &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_AM3OuJP5pMw/SIZAR-MWyNI/AAAAAAAAAIA/MhKUnWDLId8/s1600-h/firstcar-fod.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_AM3OuJP5pMw/SIZAR-MWyNI/AAAAAAAAAIA/MhKUnWDLId8/s320/firstcar-fod.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225935095106816210" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well it got kind of drafty in the old horseless carriage so eventually automobile makers decided to glass in the whole vehicle. Mom could keep her hairdo AND not have to walk. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_AM3OuJP5pMw/SIZA2d9ptvI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/S07Ghza8vsk/s1600-h/50swagon57squire.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_AM3OuJP5pMw/SIZA2d9ptvI/AAAAAAAAAIQ/S07Ghza8vsk/s320/50swagon57squire.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225935722110367474" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the 60's came along, and the standard glassed-in horseless carriage was fine for getting around, but if you were a mom who liked to have a good time you needed a mommy mobile that you would double as your home, since you were so busy traveling around and spreading the love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_AM3OuJP5pMw/SIZBUQ5ERJI/AAAAAAAAAIY/VqSevaIDMNc/s1600-h/60svwbus.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_AM3OuJP5pMw/SIZBUQ5ERJI/AAAAAAAAAIY/VqSevaIDMNc/s320/60svwbus.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225936233997550738" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Finally, Mommies realized that all this peace and love was great until you find out that you've contracted some nasty VD. So they decided to settle down and trade in the old love van for a more  respectable ride. But  they couldn't  be confined to the limited square footage of a  wagon, so they  moved into a 'conversion van'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_AM3OuJP5pMw/SIZBvhElLYI/AAAAAAAAAIg/MVlFXwk4VCA/s1600-h/80sconversionvan.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_AM3OuJP5pMw/SIZBvhElLYI/AAAAAAAAAIg/MVlFXwk4VCA/s320/80sconversionvan.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225936702197280130" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The conversion van was great for Mommies of the 80's, but the 90's came along and with it the development of the 'soccer mom'. Make room for the MINIvan. Which is not really very 'mini' at all, but compared to the conversion van I suppose it is a step down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_AM3OuJP5pMw/SIZC_AFqqqI/AAAAAAAAAIw/PbajUscWxFM/s1600-h/90sminivan.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_AM3OuJP5pMw/SIZC_AFqqqI/AAAAAAAAAIw/PbajUscWxFM/s320/90sminivan.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225938067732998818" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Well along came the 2000's and with it the bigger houses, bigger value meals, bigger highways, bigger butts, bigger boobs, bigger credit card debt, well... you get the picture. Now the minivan isn't big enough either. For heaven's sake, its called a MINI van! Nothing 'big' about that. So everyone's movin on up to an SUV. And thus, the Mommy Mobile of the 2000's becomes the gigantic, gas guzzling SUV. (Keeping in mind that while these status symbol vehicles seat 8, the average SUV-owning family has 1.8 children.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_AM3OuJP5pMw/SIZC_mQ9RdI/AAAAAAAAAI4/XQmwoUz_ONg/s1600-h/2006suburban.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_AM3OuJP5pMw/SIZC_mQ9RdI/AAAAAAAAAI4/XQmwoUz_ONg/s320/2006suburban.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225938077980902866" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BUT as  Mommies hurry to buy up the SUV's all over the country, an alarming thing happens. Oil prices start to climb at an alarming rate. And suddenly, people start to care about the impact of their SUV's on the world's non-renewable resources! Hahah gotcha. They only care about their SUV's gas tanks impact on their credit card balance I mean wallet.  So here we are in the late-2000's and bring in the HYBRID. The fuel efficient, runs partially on electricity status symbol of the later 1st decade of the 21st century.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_AM3OuJP5pMw/SIZC_r-CzCI/AAAAAAAAAJA/mb0BuKOh_d0/s1600-h/2008cooperhybrid.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_AM3OuJP5pMw/SIZC_r-CzCI/AAAAAAAAAJA/mb0BuKOh_d0/s320/2008cooperhybrid.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225938079512185890" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My prediction is that it won't be long before we're all taking a cue from Asia and traveling around in rickshaws. You oughta buy up some stock in Schwinn because I hear they are working on the American model rickshaw, complete with an MP3 player, global GPS and a cell phone charger. I bet we'll see a lot less Mommy Mobiles at the McDonalds drive through super sizing it when they're pedaling their babes around in one of these!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_AM3OuJP5pMw/SIZDk-S7d7I/AAAAAAAAAJI/HTf7cZpKzGU/s1600-h/rickshaw.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_AM3OuJP5pMw/SIZDk-S7d7I/AAAAAAAAAJI/HTf7cZpKzGU/s320/rickshaw.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225938720086783922" 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/5449254555745722171-7669908252360097952?l=sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/kRYA/~4/RKms8Nr6_QE" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com/feeds/7669908252360097952/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5449254555745722171&amp;postID=7669908252360097952" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449254555745722171/posts/default/7669908252360097952?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449254555745722171/posts/default/7669908252360097952?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/kRYA/~3/RKms8Nr6_QE/evolution-of-mommy-mobile.html" title="The Evolution of the Mommy Mobile" /><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12981608108180709305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2194/1556149588_c2257f95b9.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://bp3.blogger.com/_AM3OuJP5pMw/SIZAky1Qu6I/AAAAAAAAAII/eO1G8j07DaU/s72-c/firstvehicle.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com/2008/07/evolution-of-mommy-mobile.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D04BRHk4fyp7ImA9WxdVFEw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5449254555745722171.post-332279949837199219</id><published>2008-07-18T11:35:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-18T14:19:15.737-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-18T14:19:15.737-07:00</app:edited><title>A terrible sound...</title><content type="html">What is the worst sound a mother can hear, traveling along the interstate alone with her three (or more) children ages 5 and under? Well honestly the worst would be a "HUWAAAAAAAAAAH" which would be the sound of a child vomiting all over himself and his brothers. Which is, most fortunately, NOT what happened &lt;u&gt;this&lt;/u&gt; time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So lets say the second worst sound.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#2 screams &lt;em&gt;"I have to poo poo NOW or I'm going to poo poo in my pants!"&lt;/em&gt; Of course I start looking for the nearest bush to stop and let him squat behind. Darn the interstate, there ARE no bushes! So I settle for the next gas station. Unload all three kids, run inside and desperately ask the not-so-friendly man-woman cashier where the bathrooms are. He/she points down the hall to her left and grunts. "&lt;em&gt;Thanks"&lt;/em&gt; I say and run the kids to the bathroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course this bathroom is a one toileter. You know, just one big room with a toilet and a sink. No stalls, no additional toilets. Which is fine if you are alone and childless. Not so much when you have two kids who both have to go and who seem to be unable to hold it any longer once there is a target I mean toilet in view. Obviously my boys are better at resolving this problem than I. #1 lifts the toilet seat and side by side they both drop their drawers and pee in unison. Its like synchronized urinating. It was beautiful. If it were an olympic event, they would have won a gold medal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So after the olympic training, #2 hops up on the pot and takes care of his OWN #2. Thats over, we wash hands, leave the bathroom and then purchase some 'guilt candy' for using the gas station restrooms as a rest stop. (Don't tell me you don't buy guilt candy, are YOU one of those people who just runs out the door really quickly not making eye contact with the attendant? Shame on you!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Load up the kids in the van and get back on the interstate. So 10 minutes down the highway I hear another voice from the back seat, its #1 this time (remember the synchronized urination, he DID just relieve himself)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;"Mama! I have to go potty!" &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those dreaded words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not saying I MYSELF did this, but meaner moms than I might have just told their son they would have to hold it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;heh heh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'll hold off potty training #3 until he's leaving for college.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5449254555745722171-332279949837199219?l=sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/kRYA/~4/2EeKQaFbTcI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com/feeds/332279949837199219/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5449254555745722171&amp;postID=332279949837199219" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449254555745722171/posts/default/332279949837199219?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449254555745722171/posts/default/332279949837199219?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/kRYA/~3/2EeKQaFbTcI/terrible-sound.html" title="A terrible sound..." /><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12981608108180709305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2194/1556149588_c2257f95b9.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com/2008/07/terrible-sound.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;DUMCQXk-eSp7ImA9WxdVEkw.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5449254555745722171.post-1923318257693687012</id><published>2008-07-16T07:04:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-16T07:11:00.751-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-07-16T07:11:00.751-07:00</app:edited><title>Picky eaters.. made, not born</title><content type="html">This has been weighing on my mind a lot ever since I saw a post on a message board about this book called the &lt;a href="http://www.amazon.com/Sneaky-Chef-Strategies-Healthy-Favorite/dp/0762430753"&gt;Sneaky Chef&lt;/a&gt;. In this book a mom creates recipes like brownies with spinach, cookies with zucchini, and more and more of the like. Apparently parents in our country are so desperate to get their kids to eat vegetables that they cook them down into a mash, puree them and 'sneak' them into foods that their kids enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;WHAT THE HECK?? That is absolutely absurd. Maybe I've been blessed with non-picky eaters... no wait, thats not true. Because they've all gone through a picky stage. But you know what I DIDN'T do? I didn't cater to them. I didn't let them start a diet of chocolate milk and chicken nuggets. I continued to present them with what the rest of us were eating and let them sit there and huff and puff over how they didn't want it. Sometimes they ate it, and sometimes they didn't. We don't EVER make our kids eat a thing. If they're hungry-- they'll eat. Pure and simple. And they got over it. And you know what? Even the baby will eat brussels sprouts and broccoli now. Without it being pureed into his dessert. I think the picky eater phenomenon in America is being fostered by the parents. Google it, its an AMERICAN thing. Nowhere else in the world do they have this phenomena occurring.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bah.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5449254555745722171-1923318257693687012?l=sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/kRYA/~4/4zhSIhHIDzI" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com/feeds/1923318257693687012/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5449254555745722171&amp;postID=1923318257693687012" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449254555745722171/posts/default/1923318257693687012?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449254555745722171/posts/default/1923318257693687012?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/kRYA/~3/4zhSIhHIDzI/picky-eaters-made-not-born.html" title="Picky eaters.. made, not born" /><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12981608108180709305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2194/1556149588_c2257f95b9.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com/2008/07/picky-eaters-made-not-born.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;C0IGRHg-eCp7ImA9WxdXFUo.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5449254555745722171.post-8364120871363287270</id><published>2008-06-27T05:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-27T05:58:45.650-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-06-27T05:58:45.650-07:00</app:edited><title>Update on us:</title><content type="html">&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Well I haven't been blogging lately because our life is so incredibly hectic right now. Actually, I HAVE been blogging just not here. Mary (my youngest sister) and I have been blogging about our weight loss on &lt;a href="http://bruingtonbiggestloser.blogspot.com"&gt;bruingtonbiggestloser.blogspot.com&lt;/a&gt; I have lost 20 pounds so far! Hooray!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok on to our hectic life. We've had our house on the market for 2 months. We've had FOUR people look at it. So depressing. No offers or anything. Jason is working in WV during the week and living with a guy he works with. We see him on the weekends, usually. The kids and I are at my mom's house because the stress of keeping the house clean while I was home alone with three kids was about to send me into the looney bin. We miss our friends at home and hate that we're away, but where is home now anyway? I feel like we're practically homeless. Our house is for sale so its not the way we lived in it. Most of our belongings are in storage except for furniture. And a great deal of our furniture is in storage too! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bah. Its just depressing. Hopefully our house will sell and this will all be over soon. We're getting ready to drop the price, which means we'll be having to take out a loan to close when the time comes. HOPEFULLY the time will come soon.&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/5449254555745722171-8364120871363287270?l=sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/kRYA/~4/EGzocNwGfQk" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com/feeds/8364120871363287270/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5449254555745722171&amp;postID=8364120871363287270" title="1 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449254555745722171/posts/default/8364120871363287270?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449254555745722171/posts/default/8364120871363287270?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/kRYA/~3/EGzocNwGfQk/update-on-us.html" title="Update on us:" /><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12981608108180709305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2194/1556149588_c2257f95b9.jpg" /></author><thr:total>1</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com/2008/06/update-on-us.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CUUFQ3g-eSp7ImA9WxdTF08.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5449254555745722171.post-2497595361416728319</id><published>2008-05-13T16:55:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-13T17:00:12.651-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-05-13T17:00:12.651-07:00</app:edited><title>A MOST yummy snack</title><content type="html">Recently I was reading some health food magazine (I think.. I saw it SOMEWHERE anyway and the health food magazine seems the most likely source) and there was a snack mentioned that goes as follows, all measurements are guestimates, I didn't do any measuring and the magazine didn't give directions it just mentioned the ingredients:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grab 2-3 nice juicy apples. Cut the core out of the center (a bit tricky but do-able).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mix: 1/2 c peanut butter, 1/3 to 1/2 c rolled oats, 2 tbsp sugar (I used some natural fruit juice extract sugar stuff.. I forgot what its called) and a pinch or two of cinnamon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stuff peanut butter mixture into core of apple.&lt;br /&gt;Slice apple into rings so each ring has a peanut buttery center.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ENJOY! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is SOOOO yummy I made it tonight for a little after-dinner snack and we all loved it! Try it, you'll love it.  OH I just remembered, I think the original source said something about raisins. You could certainly add those too!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5449254555745722171-2497595361416728319?l=sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/kRYA/~4/7lYP5rq4Zrw" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com/feeds/2497595361416728319/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5449254555745722171&amp;postID=2497595361416728319" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449254555745722171/posts/default/2497595361416728319?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449254555745722171/posts/default/2497595361416728319?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/kRYA/~3/7lYP5rq4Zrw/most-yummy-snack.html" title="A MOST yummy snack" /><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12981608108180709305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2194/1556149588_c2257f95b9.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com/2008/05/most-yummy-snack.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0UFQnY6cSp7ImA9WxZaGU8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5449254555745722171.post-6852892509342033222</id><published>2008-05-04T11:14:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-04T11:20:13.819-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-05-04T11:20:13.819-07:00</app:edited><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="gardening organic beneficial insects" /><title>Nature rocks!</title><content type="html">Today I picked some fresh lettuce from my porch garden for my sandwich. As I was washing it I saw those little green bugs that are the BANE of my gardening existence!  APHIDS! NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!! Well I made sure I washed them all off (they do match the color of the lettuce perfectly so I may have inadvertently had a turkey, cheese, lettuce and aphid sandwich!) ate my lunch and then went out to inspect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ARGH!  I found SOME aphids on the lettuce but not a whole lot. I squished a few (ew. right between my bare fingers. ew.) but I kept spotting these bugs that looked very similar to lacewings but if memory serves, lacewings are green and these were brown. So I came inside to consult my crystal ball (aka the WWW) and found that YES there ARE brown lacewings and that is what I have on my lettuce plants, YAAY!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For those who don't know, lacewings are predators of aphids. But in GREEN lacewings only the larvae are aphid predators. BROWN lacewings are aphid predators in all stages of life!  WOOHOO! GO NATURE!  So I'm hoping the aphids will disappear and then I can relocate the lacewings to the garden.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other gardening news:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The stupid, stupid, stupid ants have already been farming their aphids on my pitiful little tomato plants. I don't even know if they will make it. And I found some suspicious eggs on TWO tomato plants today that look an awful lot like squash bug eggs...... AHHH! I had squash bugs SOOO bad last year. I am so upset to find those eggs. And unfortunately, lacewings don't do much about them :(&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5449254555745722171-6852892509342033222?l=sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/kRYA/~4/KlW4W9ju8u0" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com/feeds/6852892509342033222/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5449254555745722171&amp;postID=6852892509342033222" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449254555745722171/posts/default/6852892509342033222?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449254555745722171/posts/default/6852892509342033222?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/kRYA/~3/KlW4W9ju8u0/nature-rocks.html" title="Nature rocks!" /><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12981608108180709305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2194/1556149588_c2257f95b9.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com/2008/05/nature-rocks.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;A0QHQHw-fip7ImA9WxZaGEk.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5449254555745722171.post-7588678923969199420</id><published>2008-05-03T14:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-03T14:15:31.256-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-05-03T14:15:31.256-07:00</app:edited><title>It just seems wrong.</title><content type="html">Last night the boys and I went to Kroger and were restocking our fruits and veggies, as we tend to have to do about twice a week. I have been letting the boys each pick a new (or sometimes 'old') veggie to try and they really seem to enjoy it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So as we're going through the produce department making our selections I had FOUR different people comment on how cool it is that my kids are interested in vegetables. Umm... yes I suppose it is cool that they are interested in good food. But what is so sad is that they even thought that it would be UNUSUAL for a kid to be interested in the produce department! I mean seriously, it is the most interesting, most ALIVE part of the grocery store. We LOVE the produce department. All the colors, discussing what kind of a plant or tree or root the veggie or fruit grows from and how you cook it, etc..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So pondering that led me to thinking about some rotten injustices in our country. For instance-- you have to be 18 to buy cigarettes in this country (19 in some states) and for good reason. They MAY cause cancer. MAY, not in everyone's case. Ignoring the fact that they're disgusting and can cause fires, just the health risks. But in the SAME country a FIVE YEAR OLD can go to the counter at McDonalds, order a 1/4 pounder a super value fries and a 44 oz soda. That meal is GUARANTEED to increase their cholesterol levels, their sugar levels, and very LIKELY will cause diabetes and heart disease later in life. And the diabetes are occurring at younger and younger ages.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the rare occasion that my kids and I go to McDonalds (ok we are guilty of the drive thru about once every other month) I am so saddened to see what parents let their kids eat. We went to McDonalds last week to get out of the house (yucky rainy week) and I let the kids play in the playplace. Now I'm certainly NOT saying that I am the poster child for model eating (I'm 40 pounds overweight after all!) but when we go places like McDonalds I _never_ let the kids have soda or french fries. I am SO happy that they offer juice boxes and apple slices as an alternative. And that is what my kids _always_ have and they don't even think to ask for fries. Actually only one of them even LIKES fries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So.. while we were there this lady came in with her daughter who was almost 3. She went and got the little girl a cheeseburger kids meal with fries and a soda. A typical McMeal. Then she proceeded to MAKE her child finish the food before she could play--not finish the amount that she WANTED to eat, finish it all. "You still have 3 fries left". Ohhh on so many levels this bothered me!  The worst and most sad part is that I bet that woman doesn't even truly realize how bad the food she is MAKING her child eat is for her. Then theres the whole "clean your plate" argument. I NEVER force my children to eat anything, particularly if it is something that isn't even REMOTELY good for them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway so I was thinking that there needs to be some serious change in this country. Like a cholesterol check to determine what menu items you are eligible for at fast food restaurants. Or a scale! That alone would keep quite a few patrons out of McDonalds. Different weight categories make you eligible to purchase different items.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I think the biggest thing that is WRONG with this country is awareness. I am aware, but I still struggle. But if it was more of a joint effort, if EVERYONE wanted a change then things would start happening. I hope that day comes before my kids are grown and have over the limit cholesterol levels of their own.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5449254555745722171-7588678923969199420?l=sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/kRYA/~4/0wUg2TGz8zQ" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com/feeds/7588678923969199420/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5449254555745722171&amp;postID=7588678923969199420" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449254555745722171/posts/default/7588678923969199420?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449254555745722171/posts/default/7588678923969199420?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/kRYA/~3/0wUg2TGz8zQ/it-just-seems-wrong.html" title="It just seems wrong." /><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12981608108180709305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2194/1556149588_c2257f95b9.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com/2008/05/it-just-seems-wrong.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;D0INQn44fSp7ImA9WxZaFko.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5449254555745722171.post-5164273990285295361</id><published>2008-05-01T13:58:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-05-01T13:59:53.035-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-05-01T13:59:53.035-07:00</app:edited><title>I'm bored.</title><content type="html">I shouldn't be. There is really a lot that I *could* be doing. Well, actually thats not even true. There are a few things that I *should* do but not a LOT. The house is practically empty, the for sale sign is in our front yard. Its been there for 48 hours now. AND NOT ONE CALL! I figured they should be beating down the door by now, the bidding war should have started.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Know anyone who wants to buy a house?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5449254555745722171-5164273990285295361?l=sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/kRYA/~4/TEnhIeFmqws" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com/feeds/5164273990285295361/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5449254555745722171&amp;postID=5164273990285295361" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449254555745722171/posts/default/5164273990285295361?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449254555745722171/posts/default/5164273990285295361?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/kRYA/~3/TEnhIeFmqws/im-bored.html" title="I'm bored." /><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12981608108180709305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2194/1556149588_c2257f95b9.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com/2008/05/im-bored.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;CkUFQn47cSp7ImA9WxZaFUQ.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5449254555745722171.post-1808087856256545028</id><published>2008-04-30T14:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-30T14:16:53.009-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-04-30T14:16:53.009-07:00</app:edited><title>Montessori Math</title><content type="html">Lately Hunter's biggest questions/concerns have been how much is one hundred and how much is one thousand. I think these questions started after we read the Usborne book "&lt;a href="http://www.ubah.com/ecommerce/details.asp?sid=U2510&amp;amp;gid=49356154&amp;amp;title=How+Big+Is+A+Million%3F+%28with+poster%29&amp;amp;sqlwhere=submit%3Dsearch%26search%3Dhow%2Bbig%2Bis%2Bmillion"&gt;How big is a Million?&lt;/a&gt;" (shamelessly spamming myself! It really is a neat book, hardback and has a HUGE poster in the back with a.. well, I don't want to give away the ending but lets just say it has a million of something!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So since most EVERYTHING is packed up I've been racking my brain trying to figure out how to illustrate 100 and 1000 for him. One of the ladies on my diapering message board is into Montessori teaching and I had seen her post pics of her homemade montessori materials before so I asked her about it. I ended up making 10's bars out of pipe cleaners and pony beads, total cost $4.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I put 10 beads on a half pipe cleaner and twisted the ends back into the beads to keep them from falling off. I made 10 of these. Then with Hunter we counted out 10 individual beads. Then I showed him how we could replace 10 of those beads with a 10 bar, and then did 11-20, 21-30, etc.. you get the picture. When we got to 100 he got a huge grin on his face and it was like a light bulb went off. He could SEE 100 and actually understand how we got there!  AMAZING!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5449254555745722171-1808087856256545028?l=sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/kRYA/~4/wTe1mKggkt8" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com/feeds/1808087856256545028/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5449254555745722171&amp;postID=1808087856256545028" title="0 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449254555745722171/posts/default/1808087856256545028?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449254555745722171/posts/default/1808087856256545028?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/kRYA/~3/wTe1mKggkt8/montessori-math.html" title="Montessori Math" /><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12981608108180709305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2194/1556149588_c2257f95b9.jpg" /></author><thr:total>0</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com/2008/04/montessori-math.html</feedburner:origLink></entry><entry gd:etag="W/&quot;Ak8DRHo5cCp7ImA9WxZbFk8.&quot;"><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5449254555745722171.post-4686279504883873762</id><published>2008-04-19T11:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-04-19T11:14:35.428-07:00</updated><app:edited xmlns:app="http://www.w3.org/2007/app">2008-04-19T11:14:35.428-07:00</app:edited><title>5 going on 15...</title><content type="html">&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_AM3OuJP5pMw/SAo143vi56I/AAAAAAAAAHQ/YHFccWiV-WU/s1600-h/huntersign.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_AM3OuJP5pMw/SAo143vi56I/AAAAAAAAAHQ/YHFccWiV-WU/s320/huntersign.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191020771650234274" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_AM3OuJP5pMw/SAo15Hvi57I/AAAAAAAAAHY/PnA4dinY_Dk/s1600-h/huntersign2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_AM3OuJP5pMw/SAo15Hvi57I/AAAAAAAAAHY/PnA4dinY_Dk/s320/huntersign2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5191020775945201586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning I get up to find Hunter's door closed with a sign on his door. I look closely at it and see that it is a collection of letters.. sounding them out I was able to surmise that "dotgonher" was to my learning-to-read 5 year old "Don't go in here" so I open to door to see what is going on and he informs me that the sign is for Nathan, because Nathan apparently bit him this morning. Later on he added more info-- "wouldn't bite me in here" and then some more words which I am not sure if they are intended to be words at all because Hunter doesn't know what they say either. Then he added the picture of Nathan with the circle and line through it to signify that Nathan wasn't allowed. So later today I informed him that it is THEIR room and not just "his" room so he removed the mean signs and put up nice ones. I asked him if I could have the signs for posterity. Jason and I really got a kick out of them!!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5449254555745722171-4686279504883873762?l=sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/blogspot/kRYA/~4/0YR8UXf2hHc" height="1" width="1"/&gt;</content><link rel="replies" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com/feeds/4686279504883873762/comments/default" title="Post Comments" /><link rel="replies" type="text/html" href="http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=5449254555745722171&amp;postID=4686279504883873762" title="2 Comments" /><link rel="edit" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449254555745722171/posts/default/4686279504883873762?v=2" /><link rel="self" type="application/atom+xml" href="http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5449254555745722171/posts/default/4686279504883873762?v=2" /><link rel="alternate" type="text/html" href="http://feedproxy.google.com/~r/blogspot/kRYA/~3/0YR8UXf2hHc/5-going-on-15.html" title="5 going on 15..." /><author><name>Sarah</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12981608108180709305</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail" width="32" height="24" src="http://farm3.static.flickr.com/2194/1556149588_c2257f95b9.jpg" /></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://bp1.blogger.com/_AM3OuJP5pMw/SAo143vi56I/AAAAAAAAAHQ/YHFccWiV-WU/s72-c/huntersign.jpg" height="72" width="72" /><thr:total>2</thr:total><feedburner:origLink>http://sarahtmomof3.blogspot.com/2008/04/5-going-on-15.html</feedburner:origLink></entry></feed>

